I guess I’ve never been a big fan of the color PINK.
I was a bit of a tomboy growing up. I wasn’t one of those little girls who was afraid to get dirty. I learned to gut a fish at a young age. In elementary school, I wore shorts under my dresses so I could play the sports the boys were playing. Once in Mrs. Compton’s first grade classroom, a tiny, lost lizard sent everyone (teacher included) into a shrieking frenzy; I calmly caught the little reptile and freed it outdoors. I remember borrowing a dress for a formal dance in high school- a pink, ruffled, fluffy thing- and matching my shoes, nails, even lips in that dreaded color. I declared then that I hated all things PINK. I maintained this stance for years.
Then, two Januarys ago, I experienced one of the most frightening times of my life.
I found a lump.
You know, the scary kind. I conveniently had my annual appointment with the ‘girl’ doctor that week, and after a more-detailed-than-usual breast exam, he confirmed what I feared (his brow furrowed in an unsettling way). It wasn’t my imagination. Something that wasn’t normal was there.
I should mention that I was a mere 4 months into a separation from my then-husband, which is probably the most insecure and unstable place in my life I’d ever been. It also meant that I walked myself, trembling, into the building where I was to receive a mammogram and ultrasound and learn what this mass meant to my future. At 35 years old, I had never wanted to hold someone’s hand more, just like a child.
Today’s Photo-a-Day prompt is simply, “Pink“- a color that is now aligned forever with the fight against breast cancer. I could have photographed the stunning pink peonies that are dressing up the island in my kitchen. I could have taken an artsy picture of my yoga mat, a dusty blush color. I could have shot an image of the pinkish coral earrings hanging on my dressing table, or the brand new bright fuchsia dress hanging in my closet (we all know I love a new dress).
Instead, I dug through my stacks of unfiled paperwork to find the letter that I saved because it meant everything to me- a simple note from the Breast Imaging Center affirming that things were ok. No matter what turmoil I was going through in my life at that time, that reassurance really mattered most. It still does.
Maybe you noticed that I just listed quite a few pink things, all around my house.
It turns out, PINK is quite pretty, after all.
For more information about the fight against breast cancer, please visit Susan G. Komen for the Cure.
the usual bliss 
I am happy to hear you got the good news. I was not so lucky.
It’s amazing how time stops and nothing else matters at that time. I send you every good, healing vibe and hope you are ok!
Yes, that is true. It has been more than a year now, I went through hell and managed to get out and although it will sound completely nuts, but I am happy it happened…in a way. It changed everything about my life in a positive way. It is amazing how your priorities change and you learn to appreciate and enjoy every moment. Too bad it takes something like this for most of us to wake up. Anyway…. I read your story and I remembered that day, when I had my test…didn’t mean to write this whole thing. I usually keep it bottled up. 🙂
Me, too. It felt good to write about it. Thank you for sharing your story with me. 🙂
“I had never wanted to hold someone’s hand more, just like a child.” You put that feeling of so desperately needing some comfort perfectly. I had a brush with Ovarian Cancer when I was a sophomore in college. That, exactly as your described it, was how I felt. Old enough that I knew I should handle it like adult business, but scared enough that I wanted nothing more than a hug from my mom. So glad you are healthy and happy and sharing your story with us!
It’s just funny that it’s the first thing I thought of when I saw the word “Pink”- I’m lucky it was just a scare and nothing more. It was a good ‘keep life in perspective’ moment!