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The Rice Thresher
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Lizzie Taishoff Features Editor I remember it was a rainy and unseasonably cold day in April of 1992. The sky was steel gray and a chill hung around my shoulders like a mantle. It was the day my aunt told me she had breast cancer. Cancer - the word lingered in my mind like thick, dark smoke. She was going to have a mastectomy in two weeks, because her illness had gone undetected for so long. I remember putting my arms around her in disbelief. She was a vegetarian, she jogged daily, she never smoked. She was full of life. And cancer meant death. Or, so I thought then. Looking back now, almost nine years later, I see how her battle with the disease - beginning with surgery, then treatment and now the daily process of recovery - brought out the best in those around her, and, I like to think, in me too. Still, I never believed I had a way to help her and other women - and men - fight the disease. That is until this past Saturday. The weather was much the same: chilly and raining with gusting winds. With other Rice students and over 20,000 others around me, I jogged shivering toward the starting line. Together we were on a 5-kilometer journey as part of the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation's Race for the Cure, a yearly road race held in cities around the nation to raise both awareness of and money for research into breast cancer. All around me was a sea of pink shirts and visors worn by women who were survivors. A startling number of women in the crowd showed the visible ravages of radiation and chemotherapy: bald heads and withered figures. Yet they were literally moving forward, with a determination and a force that would rival a hurricane. Families ran together, men ran alone - for ill or departed sisters, mothers and wives - in pink shirts personalized with heart-wrenching messages on the backs. And some men ran as survivors themselves. Seeing those men made me stop and think. So often breast cancer is seen as only a women's disease. And for good reason. By the year 2010, almost 1.8 million women and 12,000 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer, according to the Komen Foundation. While the figures are staggeringly higher for women, 12,000 diagnoses for men is hardly an easy figure to ignore. Breast cancer is a disease that can and does affect every kind of person, every race, every culture, every ethnicity. The risk factors and early detection methods and interventions should be known by everyone, but sadly many women go for years without mammograms because they are seen as painful and annoying hassles. Men are not educated about their risk for the disease either and are thus particularly likely to go undiagnosed longer. Additionally, minorities and lower-income women and men often do not have, within their communities, the resources needed to provide adequate early detection and educational information. What I saw last Saturday as I crossed the finish line, soaking wet and triumphant, was a celebration of life all around me in the faces of the other runners and the bystanders. Before me was an acknowledgment that there is no shame in confronting the reality of a disease that, with early detection and treatment, can be beaten. We have resources on campus from Health Services and the Health Education Office to the Women's Resource Center that can provide information to get us started learning the truth about breast cancer. While college-aged women and men are not the highest risk group for developing breast cancer, starting routine exams early creates personal body awareness and builds good habits of self-care for the future. My aunt isn't lower-income, a minority, in a high risk group or even genetically disposed to the illness. Rather, she is a middle-aged, suburban teacher, wife and mother who missed two mammograms. And she is only one case. Her story could be that of your mother, father, aunt, uncle, sister, brother, grandparent or friend. It could be yours or mine. So educate yourself and take care of your body no matter who you are or how little you believe your risk to be. Do it as a celebration of life - your life. Lizzie Taishoff is features editor and a Wiess College senior.
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