By Melanie Bates
As I sit here drinking my sixth cup of java, my best friend is walking sixty grueling miles across San Francisco with a gnarly head cold. It’s hard for me to fathom putting foot to pavement like that when I have to motivate myself to rise and patter to the coffee pot each morn, but she’s been inspired to help put an end to breast cancer. So, when Save the Ta-tas – an organization simply slathered in Awesome – asked me to be a guest blogger for Breast Cancer Awareness month I knew this was my unique chance to help women and earn a pink ribbon while still drinking my coffee.
I like boobs. I’m particularly attached to my own but I’ve never had breast cancer. I’ve only known a few tough birds who’ve had it and they knocked it on its ass. However, I have had to strike a bargain with thyroid cancer and that’s close enough for me. Not to mention that I once found a lump in my breast and had to lay on an ultrasound table while a stoic technician squirted cold goo on my chest and proceeded with a New York style photoshoot sans heavy make-up or the pretty poses. Don’t think for a moment that I wasn’t laying there mentally arranging the calla lilies at my funeral and picturing my family keeling over in grief. Fortunately, for me, I’m just cyst-y.
Breast cancer is a savage beast and I imagine it wearing a ruby red Luchador mask lined with golden swirls and silver glitter sporting a name like La Cobra Más Macho. It wrestles women to the ground, it pile drives them, it pulls out its aerobatic fancy and it double nelson’s them into submission.
But I would prefer “sometimes” to become “never.” So I’m offering up five unique strategies for wrestling breast cancer into submission: