The Bra-ha-ha

Regarding my previous post My Bra? Color Me Furious, which has clocked in at 1,000+ comments: I guess I hit a nerve.

My initial headline was "My Bra? Color Me Dubious." But who would click on that? Not me. Writers can be so dramatic. (Besides, furious sounds kinda like dubious.)

In truth, I'm not so furious anymore. Mostly I'm grateful. And I'm sad about friends who were not so lucky. I miss them. I still love them.

My colleague Frances Tobin wrote an excellent post on the Facebook bra-color meme. We bloggers on Politics Daily try to support and respond to each other. Since memes can come and go quicker than strawberry season, I thought I'd better step it up.

Can o' worms? Oh yeah!

As a rule, I don't read the comments on my posts, but with the social media machine that is facebookgoogletwitterblog, every now and then a stray comment wends its way through the system to my screen.

One reader thought I should "shut up."

I can sympathize. But telling bloggers to shut up is like telling a river to stop flowing. As long as the paychecks clear, the chance of them shutting up is slim to none.

Another reader wrote: "If you take everything in life so very seriously, I feel sorry for you."

Have our cancer walks, slogans, teddy bears (as noted by author Barbara Ehrenreich in "Welcome to Cancerland") and now bra colors trivialized breast cancer to the point that people have forgotten what a nightmare it is?

I replied, "Cancer is very serious. As serious as it gets. It's about being cut, poisoned and then dying anyway. It's about young mothers saying goodbye to their children."

My reader protested that anything that raises awareness inherently saves lives, and therefore should not be criticized.

"That's just the problem," I wrote back. Buying pink merchandise "doesn't save lives. Awareness of breast cancer is already higher than just about any disease on the planet. I'd be more impressed if there was a specific goal."

For instance, working to pass a law requiring insurance companies to pay for mammograms after the age 40. My friend Sherri got her first mammogram at age 40. They found cancer, but at least she got six years, which she would not have had if she'd waited.

I asked my reader if she realized that for ovarian cancer there is no early-warning test, no equivalent to the mammogram. I asked if she understood that ovarian cancer survival rates have barely budged in 50 years. I asked if she knew the symptoms of ovarian cancer.

She replied, "Perhaps we should start a post for ovarian cancer: What color is your underwear?"

Not a bad idea.

Someone else wrote to me: "You are entitled to your opinion. I am entitled to tell the world the color the bra that covers what used to be called my chest (italics mine)." Indeed she is!

One reader tracked down my 2002 essay "Everything Changed," originally published in The Kansas City Star and now posted on the Johns Hopkins site.

She wrote, "I want to thank you. I now know the symptoms of ovarian cancer (& will be posting them on my Facebook). Maybe instead of criticizing the way people spread breast cancer awareness on Facebook, you should be 'taking action' by spreading awareness about ovarian cancer."

Oh, I've soooo been there. And I'm still there, obviously.

I don't believe in angels or heaven, but lest my friend Kay strike me with an imaginary thunderbolt, let me just say:

A symptom of the so-called "silent killer" ovarian cancer is gastro-intestinal distress, usually caused by an ovarian tumor pressing on the bowels. If a symptom persists, tell a doctor and consider getting a CA-125 blood test. It's not foolproof, but it's one of several diagnostic tools.

Learn more at Ovarian Cancer National Alliance and National Ovarian Cancer Coalition.

Hey, I'm all for fun, flirty Facebook memes as long as no one tries to disguise showing off as "helping." How long does it take to type a color in a status line? A few seconds. When those concerned women follow up their color confessions with a year volunteering at hospice every weekend, then I'll give them all the credit in the world.