The Keep A Breast Foundation is a non-profit organization working to help eradicate breast cancer by exposing young people to methods of prevention, early detection, and support. Art events, educational programs, and fundraising efforts are used to raise awareness, because you know what? Catching folks when they’re young and teaching them to develop healthy habits is way smart.
100% of the funds raised through the sale of these edgy bracelets go to the Keep A Breast Foundation.
Hats For You offers hats, caps, and scarves for those suffering hair loss due to cancer and chemotherapy, and from the looks of this online store, there are many options, which is a big thing in the chemo game.
Hair loss is a biggie. I mean, a B-I-G-G-I-E, and sometimes even worse than the cancer itself. Just look at what some readers had to say in response to my post, “Hair Loss: How Did You Handle It?”
I did not look at myself in the mirror while I had no hair unless I was wearing a hat and then only rarely. / Caroline
I so want to keep my hair. It took so long to get it where it is, it’s really screwed up to have to start over from zero. / Tracy
This too has been one of the hardest things I’ve endured during this adventure in “cancerland!” / Lisa
I still don’t know how exactly to describe how I felt about my hair loss. I told myself and anyone that asked that losing my hair was the least of my concerns and I really believed that I would be okay with it. I mean it’s just hair, and it does grow back. I had my hair cut short for the first time in my adult life 2 weeks before it was scheduled to dissappear. Someone told me that this might make the transition easier. Many compliments and thank-yous later I found myself in the shower with large clumps of hair in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I had a complete meltdown that morning, the first. Privately. And I so shocked myself with my reaction and the ensuing fear that my legs gave out on me in that shower. This made it real. / Liane
Yes, options are good. See what you can find at Hats For You!
There are 12 bloggers out there partnering with Eggland’s Best for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and I am one of them. Eggland’s Best Pink Dozen is what we’re called, and the plan over the upcoming weeks is for the dozen to be spotlighted on the EB website. Well, my turn is right now, and the photo above is a screenshot from the front page of the website. It’s not clickable, so nothing will happen if you hover your cursor over it, but you can click here to land at the page, and browse around.
Coming soon on the egg front: A cooking segment (and by that, I mean, a video!), featuring two boys and a mom making Heart Healthy Pumpkin Bread. Two EB pink ribbon eggs included.
Jean was one of the first people to reach out after I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2004. She’s the one who left a stack of books on my front porch — one turned out to be a favorite: Love, Medicine & Miracles, by Dr. Bernie Siegel. And she was the one who counseled me at a playgroup in her living room that day I was so sick and nearly incoherent from chemo. I contacted her days later to share that I wasn’t just crazy, but that my blood counts were terribly low and I’d been admitted to the hospital.
I hadn’t seen Jean in years. But I learned last night that she just died of a brain aneurysm. She leaves behind her husband and five children. The oldest is 9, the youngest is 18 months.
My heart is broken.
And somehow, cancer doesn’t seem so bad right now.
If you’re a White House Black Market kinda girl and you can get your hands on a pretty pink WHBM “Give Hope” coupon, you might want to mark your calendars for Thursday, October 7. On this dedicated day, 15% of your total purchase goes to Living Beyond Breast Cancer, a national, non-profit organization dedicated to empowering all women affected by breast cancer to live as long as possible with the best quality of life.
Now, I assume you need the coupon in order for this contribution to be made, but why not ask if you can go without.
WHBM has been supporting LBBC since 2004, and the corporation has donated more than $950,000 to the cause, helping more than 150,000 women who have been diagnosed with breast cancer.
I’m in no way suggesting that you go out and shop just so that 15% can be sent to charity, but if you’d already planned to throw down some cash on some trendy black and white gear, you might want to make October 7 your day. Just sayin’!
This is a really good deal — a pink flat iron (the GVP version) for $59.00, plus a free pink and black cosmetic case. Sally Beauty Supply is the spot, so head into a store near you, or you can order online. Your call — just keep in mind, these are limited-edition items, and they’ll only be around while supplies last. Hurry!
You don’t have to get the flat iron if you need other hair care gear — there are pink traditional curling irons and blow dryers, too — I just have flat irons on the brain, because mine fell on the bathroom floor two days ago and cracked into a bunch of little ceramic pieces, which lead me right to Sally’s, where I got myself a shiny new one!
Don’t worry if you don’t have a hair on your head right now, or your locks are tumbling from your head, because it will grow back, and you might end up with curls in a few months, and you might hate those curls, and you might need to straighten them. That’s how it happened for me, anyway, which is why I crank up that iron every morning, and why you should get yourself one now, while the price is right.
Over the next 31 days, you will find all sorts of pink thrown around this place, and I want you to know where I stand on the whole matter of breast cancer and its prominent color, so that you can make sense of why I share what I share.
I’ve said it all here before, I weighed in over at AOL Health last year, and my mind has not really changed at all. Still, I’ll sum it up for you again, as we embark on a month that can be a little overwhelming.
I’m a fan of the color pink. I liked it long before breast cancer meant anything to me.
I’m grateful to anyone who donates funds to the cause, because the way I see it, every penny counts. So, I’m not mad at any company offering to charity just $5 per purchase of something that costs much more, because, hey, $5 is $5. And if someone caps their donation at oh, say, $20,000, that’s OK, too. It’s still a hefty donation, and more than I could ever give. Yea, when .10 cents is the magic number, I admit I do kinda judge.
Of course, I think donating 100% is ideal, and I’ll feature this month a rare gem or two generous enough to give everything they’ve got.
While I am thankful when anyone donates funds to help women like me survive a nasty disease, I will not personally back a product that is not healthy or has been shown to contribute to obesity, illness, or disease. Like alcohol, or fried chicken, or well, you know what I mean, right? Eggs, I can do, and my partnership with Eggland’s Best (EB) feels right. Eggs are nutritious, plus EB’s eggs are cage free, and the organic hen diet consists of healthy grains with no animal fat, no animal byproducts, and no recycled or processed food. No added hormones, antibiotics, or steroids either. Good news: EB is donating $50,000 to Susan G. Komen for the Cure. Which brings me to another point.
I like to know where the money is going. No generic claims of “will be donated to breast cancer research.” If it’s legit, a specific charity should be named.
I have a few other thoughts on the matter — for example, If I’m going to buy a product anyway, and one brand gives to the cause and the other doesn’t, and both items cost the same, I’ll probably buy the pink one.
The pink ribbon has been popping up all over the place in anticipation of Breast Cancer Awareness Month — you know it starts tomorrow, right? Everything from hair dryers to toilet paper to Sharpie pens are turning shades of pink.
Just about as neat-o as a pink version of the iconic “EB” stamp appearing on individual eggs.
Kinda makes you not want to crack open that pretty little shell, doesn’t it? Well, you should, because what you’ll find inside is a powerhouse of nutrition. More to come on the nutrition front (I’ll be back with nutritionist and author Jonny Bowden, who will weigh in on the incredible, edible egg), and stay tuned over the next month or so, because I’ll be spouting out all sorts of other eggs-travagant information.
For now though, I just want to say Thank You to EB for the $50,000 they’ll be donating to Susan G. Komen for the Cure (the world’s largest breast cancer advocacy organization), and for the opportunity to help spread the word about the health benefits of the good ‘ol egg. (Honored, I am, to have been chosen as one of the Eggland’s Best Pink Dozen bloggers.)
This post is sponsored by Eggland’s Best. I received monetary compensation for my participation, but my review and opinions are my own.
I’m not sure which I like more — the hair or the hat.
But the hair, well, that’s where the story is.
That pretty blond hair is a wig. It’s mine, and because I never did find the courage to rock my bald head during chemo, I wore it every single day for months and months. It was perfect.
Made of human hair, and with a soft cotton top, my underhair was made by Hip Hats With Hair. It’s intended for use with hats, or scarves, or something that covers the top of the head, and there’s nothing itchy or scratchy about it.
I think she’s going to enjoy how easy it is to care for, too. She just needs to wash, condition, brush, comb, curl, spray — anything she’d do to the hair that once sprouted from her head.
Tina — whom I’ve come to know via a common friend — shaved her head just this week because the darn stuff was falling from her head in clumps. The wigs she’d tried were uncomfortable, and so I mailed her mine. She received it today.
Tina’s not the first person who has used this hair, my friend Carmen borrowed it, too — twice. It just sits in a box on the floor of my bedroom closet, and since I plan to never need it again, I am happy to share. Tina’s friend calls it the “Sisterhood of the Traveling Wig,” and that pretty much sums it up. Connected by cancer, we girls must stick together.
It won’t be long now until the the world as we know it turns pink. I know, it’s kind of annoying for all sorts of reasons, which I won’t dive into right now, but I do sort of like October for the mere fact that I commit myself to blogging more than usual, and that makes me happy. It just seems like a good time to spotlight some special people, some truly charitable products, some giveaways, and more.
So keep your eyes peeled over the next few weeks for little nuggets of breast cancer goodness! It all starts this Friday, October 1, 2010, and you’ll need to stop in for about 31 days to see what I’ve got in store. Teaser: Julie Clark will make an appearance, Dawn from Out of the Blue Delivered will offer something fancy (and free), and did you know October 13 is National Face Your Fears Day? I’ll tell you about it, plus so much more.
“My Mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had surgery along with several hard months of chemo,” says Donna, who is the lucky winner of the Ovarian Cancer Marble Pendant.
“She lost her beautiful hair (she is mistaken for Barbara Bush so you know how beautiful her white hair was). She was a trooper, went through all of this and is cancer-free and living proof that technology is getting closer to finding a cure for ovarian cancer! I would love to give this pendant to my Mom. She is one strong woman who now cares for my Dad 24/7. Unselfish love is my Mom.”
Congrats, Donna, on your big win! I’m guessing your mom is really going to love this awesome gift.
Big thanks go to Dawn at Out of the Blue Delivered! This giveaway would not have been possible without her generosity. And guess what? She’s going to offer a freebie for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, too, so stay tuned.
Five and a half years ago, I sat in this exam room, after being shuttled over from the hospital room in which I’d been living for five days with chemo complications. The radiation folks deemed it necessary to prep me for my next therapy, which takes a lot of planning and precision, so they borrowed me from the oncology floor, and put me here.
Then they transported me to a special table, where they taught me to recline against several different molded pillow-like things, tattooed me (little dots mark my radiation area), and schooled me on how to breathe with a special tube (to move my heart out of the way of radiation beams).
In this room, back in 2005, I was in a wheelchair, sick, bald, and feeling quite blah.
Today, I sat in this room again. Not sick, not bald, and feeling quite spunky. Today, I walked out of this room thinking about what my doctor had just told me:
I know this pre-radiation photo is revealing, and I’m sorry if it offends you in any way. I am a pretty modest person overall, really (no bikinis for me!), but I don’t spare any details when it comes to breast cancer. I figure it can only help to be totally open and honest about the realities of a very frightening disease. I mean, if just one woman sees this pic and feels better prepared for her breast cancer journey, then I know baring my breasts was a wise move.
And so here they are, the boobies I saved with a lumpectomy, the boobies I’ll remove if cancer comes back, the boobies that will be evaluated during a follow-up tomorrow by the oncologist who five years ago delivered 30+ doses of external beam radiation to my left side over a six-week timeframe. As a result of this time-consuming and fatigue-causing treatment, I have a bunch of tiny blue tattoos, a possibly-affected heart, a weak rib cage, a fair amount of armpit numbness, and limited range of motion in my arm.
But I also have my life, and so, I will bounce right in to see my doctor in the morning, thankful she scorched and burned me all those years ago, and hoping like mad that she finds nothing suspicious or scary lurking under that skin that was once marked up all pretty by black by red Sharpie pens.
I turned 41 and knew I needed to set up my mammogram — 40 went by so fast, and I had not done it yet. (I’d had a diagnostic mammogram when I was 35 due to a milk discharge, and everything was OK.) So, I went for my mammogram and got called back in for additional views. I was not scared at all, I knew a lot of times people need extra views. So, I went back in and had those views taken, then an ultrasound, and then a biopsy. The doctor said “usually masses that look like this are not benign.” That’s when I knew I was in trouble.
Five days later, I was told I had breast cancer. Invasive ductal carcinoma, two spots, maybe three. The next day, I went to a surgeon, he told me no chemo and a lumpectomy — that is if my MRI didn’t find something different. Well, the MRI showed a shotgun effect in my left breast. There was cancer “splattered” all around my left medial breast. This means a mastectomy. Fortunately, no lymph node involvement could be seen.
The doctors could never feel the masses in my breast — even when the surgeon held the tissue in his hands, he could not feel a mass.
I had my mastectomy on August 31, 2010, and being the master of this game, my cancer tricks us all again, and there is lymph node involvement, three out of 33 lymph nodes are positive. Great, I just got a free ticket for chemo! I had my bone and CAT scan, and thank goodness, those both are negative.
I get to go in Tuesday for my port surgery. I am so scared about chemo — not the sickness, not the fatigue, but the hair loss, and I feel stupid for admitting that, but it’s what keeps me covered. My hair keeps me warm, it keeps me hidden, and now I am going to be totally open. I am also concerned that my son will have trouble with that. He has never seen me without my hair flowing down my back. But I will make it. I have to. There is no other way, because I will do anything to be able to see him grow and have children. So, chemo will start in a two to four weeks, and I will put on those boxing gloves once again because I will not let “C” win.
And now, here’s where I weigh in with a few thoughts:
First, the hair. I know. I know. I know. It’s almost worse (OK, it is worse) than the disease. Please don’t feel stupid, Lisa, for fearing the bald. We all worry. It’s totally normal, and completely expected!
Second, thank you, Julie Clark, for writing this book, and for making it possible for Lisa to win a copy. I know it will warm her heart and help her son cope.
Third, best wishes to you, Lisa, as you begin this horrible and wonderful journey. You’ll find the wonderful along the way. It just takes time!