Well, here we go again.
It's October, which means the internet is about to turn pink. Pink ribbons,
pink logos, pink T-shirts, pink cakes and enough pink social media posts to
make you wonder whether the colour has somehow been elected mayor.
Yep. It's Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
And if you've been around for a while, you'll know what usually comes next...
Check your boobs. Know the signs. Go for your screening. Know your family
history. Look after yourself.
Blah, blah, blah.
And here's the thing. We know.
We've heard the message so many times that it's very easy for it to become
background noise. The same thing happens with almost every piece of health
advice. Eat better. Exercise more. Drink less. Sleep more. Drink more water.
Reduce stress. Get enough fibre. Wear sunscreen.
I'm exhausted just writing that list. I've been doing it here for a decade now and sometimes it feels like it achieves nothing.
So this year, rather than another lecture, let's just have a conversation.
Can we talk about boobs without making it weird?
Breasts are everywhere. They're sexualised, photographed, advertised and joked
about constantly. Yet somehow, saying "I've noticed something unusual with my
breast" can still make people feel awkward.
It shouldn't.
You don't need to become obsessed with checking yourself, and you certainly
don't need to spend your evenings conducting a forensic investigation in front
of the bathroom mirror.
You just need to have some idea of what's normal for you. Because bodies
aren't diagrams. Breasts come in different shapes and sizes and can change
throughout your life. Hormones, age, pregnancy and plenty of other things can
affect them.
The useful question isn't "Do mine look like the picture? "
It's "Do mine normally look and feel like this? "
And no, you don't have to diagnose yourself
One of the worst things about having the internet in your pocket is that every
unusual symptom is approximately three searches away from convincing you that
you've developed a rare condition last seen in a fishing village in the
deepest, darkest corner of the rain forest.
If you notice a change, you don't need to work out what it is. Your job isn't
to diagnose cancer. Your job is simply to notice something that isn't normal
for you and get advice if you're concerned.
A change doesn't automatically mean cancer. There are plenty of things that
can cause changes in the breasts that aren't cancerous. But "it's probably nothing " isn't a diagnosis either.
Sometimes it is nothing. Sometimes it isn't. You don't know until you find
out. And you don't need to be certain something is wrong before asking for
help. "This is different for me and I'm not sure whether I should be worried " is enough. You're not wasting anyone's time by asking a question about your
own body.
The statistics are important. But they're still just numbers.
Every year we're given statistics about how many people are diagnosed with
breast cancer, how many survive and how the numbers are changing.
Those figures matter. But behind every number is a person. Someone with a
family, a partner, friends, a job, pets, plans and somebody waiting for them
to come home.
Breast cancer doesn't just affect the person who receives the diagnosis
either. It affects the people around them, from partners and families to
friends and colleagues.
That's why awareness matters. Not because we need another frightening
statistic thrown at us, but because those statistics represent actual human
lives.
Risk isn't destiny
There are things that can influence someone's risk of developing breast
cancer, including age, family history, genetics, alcohol, physical activity
and body weight. Making healthier choices can reduce the risk of some cancers,
but nothing provides a guarantee.
You can do everything "right" and still get cancer. Getting cancer isn't a
punishment for not eating enough kale, which is a good job for me because I
fucking hate kale.
And eating a salad doesn't give you a magical forcefield. Health is
complicated. That's why the goal shouldn't be perfection. Small, realistic
changes are still worthwhile.
You don't have to become a wellness influencer just because it's October.
Screening isn't a pass or fail
It's surprisingly easy to put screening off. You're busy. You forget. You
don't feel ill. You tell yourself you'll sort it next week. Then next week
becomes next month.
Screening is designed to look for changes that may not have caused symptoms
yet. It isn't perfect and it can't guarantee that cancer won't develop, but
it's an important part of detecting breast cancer earlier. And being called
back for further tests doesn't automatically mean you have cancer either.
So if you're eligible for screening, know when you're due and don't simply
ignore the invitation because you feel fine. And remember, screening isn't a
replacement for paying attention to changes in your own body.
Maybe we don't need more pink
Maybe we don't actually need more pink. Or at least, we don't need
only more pink.
There's nothing wrong with pink ribbons, fundraising campaigns or companies
temporarily discovering that pink has always been their favourite colour. But
what happens after we see it?
Does it remind someone to book an appointment? Encourage somebody to learn
more? Start a conversation? Make someone supporting a loved one feel a little
less alone?
That's where awareness becomes useful. The pink ribbon is the signpost. It
isn't the destination.
So, no lecture. Just a nudge.
I'm not going to finish this by shouting, "GO CHECK YOUR BOOBS RIGHT NOW!"
You already know you're supposed to. Instead, just ask yourself a few simple
questions.
Do I know what's normal for me?
Do I know when I'm due for screening?
Do I know my family history?
Have I noticed a change I've been ignoring?
Have I been putting off an appointment because I'm worried I'll be wasting
someone's time?
You don't need to panic. You don't need to Google yourself into oblivion. You
don't need to assume the worst.
Just ask. Check. Book. Find out.
If everything is fine, brilliant. If something needs investigating, you've
started the process of finding out what it is. Either way, you've replaced
uncertainty with information.
And perhaps that's what Pink October should really be about.
Not more lectures. Not more fear. Not another wall of statistics that everyone
scrolls past.
Just a reminder to pay a little attention to ourselves, have the conversations
we're sometimes reluctant to have, and look after the people around us.
The internet can turn pink for a month. That's fine. But if that little pink
ribbon makes somebody stop and think, "When was the last time I actually paid
attention to me? ", then it's done its job.
Happy Pink October. Now go eat something that isn't pink. Unless it's a
doughnut. In which case, carry on!
