Normally I’m not big into the ribbons for awareness, but I also don’t feel super comfortable sharing difficult things, so I’m not going to be putting decals on my car. I think knowledge and awareness are absolutely crucial to getting more cures and more people involved in helping each other, but I’m pretty selective about what I share, and I think it’s better that way. Like, I don’t like telling people I have Celiac because I don’t like going through the questions…with everybody.
Yes, I can eat potatoes. No I can’t eat one bite of pizza, even if it only has “just a little flour.” I’m not going to feel sick and “pay for it” afterward: I’m not going to breathe afterward. And I’ve found that that makes people feel uncomfortable, so I prefer to not talk about it; in general. I mean, if it comes up it’s not that I avoid admitting it…but in general, it isn’t something I talk about.
Same with epilepsy.
I don’t appreciate snarky comments, I don’t like backhanded comments, and I don’t tolerate jerks very well; and it seems some people just can’t resist being a jerk about this kind of stuff. I’m also quite adverse to pity (“ohh, you poor thing.“) Sooo, I just try to avoid situations where my eyebrows may raise and well calculated words may come out of mine mouth. I think it’s best for humanity and such.
This all being said, I was quite surprised this morning to see a ribbon that I am firmly in favor of sharing:
The reason why it interested me is because ovarian cancer looms on my horizon.
My father’s sister died of ovarian cancer, and my mother’s mother died of ovarian cancer. That covers my lineage for both sides.
They both lived for about a year and a half of agonizing chemotherapy and constant physical and mental torment after the diagnosis before succumbing to it entirely, and it was agonizing to watch. There was nothing we could to do help them, and they were going to die…and they did die.
So, I keep an eye on things. Because I want to live, just as they wanted to live. I want to see my children grow up and raise their children. I want to live a long life with Ben.
Ultimately, there isn’t a magic wand to protect ourselves from anything…diseases happen, accidents happen and death happens.
Ultimately, I don’t know if there is anything we can do for this. There was nothing I could do for my family.
But damn it, we have to try.