An Advocate Emerges
I’ve never been much of an advocate. I’d dabbled in causes but not really adopted them. I’ve adopted others briefly only to leave them in the dust. I went through the Earth Day phase and the Take Our Daughter to Work phase (an attempt at faux feminism), but these were fleeting and I was a woman without a cause.
At times it bothered me as I pondered the grand and somewhat grandiose questions of the meaning of life. The spiritual side of me said that there was greater meaning than earning a paycheck and striving for a pension. The flip side of me said that being that I was one of billions on Planet Earth, it would be most practical to simply focus on the things I could control and change. Perhaps making a difference meant focusing on my own back yard.
“It is over and done with, as far as I’m concerned you are cancer free,” the husband says. He is right. Every time I go through another routine six month exam with the oncologist or the breast surgeon it’s like I have a second lease on life, but that isn’t enough, I feel like I should do more. On the bright and blessed side, I am now a woman with a cause. Who would have thought.
I now find myself excited and eager to “make a difference.” I went through a young advocate training with Living Beyond Breast Cancer, a U.S. non-profit that educates women about breast cancer. I volunteered to be a panelist for an upcoming breast cancer conference targeted at young women. I enthusiastically signed up for the “Pink Thrivers Cruise,” which takes myself and hundreds of other survivors on a cruise a la Love Boat-style from southern California into Mexico (hey nothing wrong with offsetting the seriousness of cancer with a little fun). I share these things not to boast or brag, but to note that in surviving and living with cancer I feel a great urge to remain in the mix and idealistically make a difference.
The other day I received a call from a volunteer at the Susan G. Komen Foundation who asked if I would sign up again for the annual 5K Race for the Cure. “Yes, of course I will,” I said. How could I say no?
Being an accidental activist for a cause I’d never imagined is both a curse and a blessing. A curse in that I can never totally forget my own ordeal. A blessing in that I have a purpose and that feels good. It is in this spirit that I board the grand cruise ship in my festive flowery dress and pink bling. Do these acts truly make a difference? Do they extend my cancer-free existence? Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe I was overthinking it and I simply needed to take a step back and enjoy believing that advocacy starting with one person mattered. Maybe it was all about just enjoying the moment, advocate or not.
