C. The big 1. Not me this time, for which I am selfishly, guiltily grateful. 2 dear sweet friends are dealing with it, currently. 1 who caught it early and has an excellent prognosis. Good thing, because she is also pregnant. 2 lives. The other is losing a sister. Rapidly. There is no hope. Hospice starts tomorrow.
I'm not going to out anyone - they know who they are. My heart hurts for them all. I've been there.
It's why whenever I can I do the walks. Why I donate, when I can. Why I admire the shit out of people who do "The Pink Thing" every chance they get. It's why I'm angry as hell when I hear of bullshit government spending on million dollar vacations for polititions and a ton of other crap we don't need when a majority of breast cancer research comes from private funding. Yes. Look it up.
So do "The Pink Thing" every chance you get, because it could be your sister, or mother, or brother (yes, guys get breast cancer, too), or it could be you.
I know I'm supposed to throw in a snark or two here, because, well, I'm me. But I don't seem to have one.
I'm sure I'll make up for it.
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