Donate wisely

I cant stand using the word lucky and cancer in the same sentence.

There is no luck in cancer.

I read the obituaries.
I know.
It's weird.
I've read them for probably over 20 years.
My Dad read them and used to tell me it was to make sure his name wasn't in there.

God I miss my Dad.

I read them and it makes me literally sick to my stomach when I read of people dying of cancer.
Especially people close to my age.

Mothers.
Fathers.
Or even worse.
Children.

CANCER SUCKS,

It sucks so bad that there's an actual hashtag #cancersucks.
There are so many telethons and charities and fundraisers that's how badly it sucks.

But here's the thing.
And I've said this before.

Buying pink earmuffs is not curing cancer.
Helltober is around the corner.
You know. The month where you're supposed to wear pink to raise awareness to breast cancer.

Please do not send me a shirt saying save the ta ta's.
The money for that t-shirt did not save my ta ta.
(Is it just a ta when you only lose one?)
(Things that make you go hmmm)

So yea.

Research upon research will hopefully one day cure cancer.
Not the facebook message that you pass onto 682 of your closest friends with a pink heart.

I PROMISE you that is not making anyone more aware of breast cancer.
You know what makes people aware?

Losing a breast.
Losing your hair and not being able to stomach the smell of chicken for 12 weeks.
Stupid blue pin dots of tatoos where you got beamed with radiation.
That's the reminder.

So forgive me if Im ranting about helltober before it even happens but todays obituary sent me over the edge.


Don't think because you have no family history you're safe.
Am I scaring you?
Good. I hope I am.

I hope I scare you so much that you are scheduling your mammogram right now.
And then do self checks.

And for my last PSA..

Choose carefully when you donate.

Donate to real people who are doing real things to help cure this god forsaken disease so that I can stop reading about mothers and fathers and children dying.

Thank you.