Little Red Hearts Don't Save Lives, But Mammograms Do

Happy Sunday! This morning, my pastor preached from the pulpit. He does not normally do that, but he had a lot to say about the many references in sacred scripture to lambs. While he was taking the congregation through this long, but edifying, theological discourse, I must confess my mind started to canoodle off a bit, as it is wont to do. I found myself thinking about all of the little red hearts that have been popping up in my social media feed over the last week to remind me that it was “breast cancer prevention week.”

Forgive me, I thought that breast cancer owned the rights to the whole month of October with its festoons of pink ribbons and such, so I am not sure why or how breast cancer hijacked another part of the calendar. Yet, here we are. Can we all agree, at this point, that we are aware of breast cancer and should do what we can to avoid it? Without thinking too hard, I can count ten women I know who have dealt with or are dealing with breast cancer, and I am sure I am missing a few.

Statistically speaking, about 1 in 8 U.S. women (12%) will develop breast cancer in her lifetime. In 2017, it is estimated that approximately 255,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed, along with another 65,000 new cases of non-invasive (in situ, to use the medical term) cancer. Further, 85% of breast cancer occurs in women with no family history of the disease. (U.S. Breast Cancer Statistics, http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/understand_bc/statistics,visited 1/15/2017).

As I have almost circled back around the sun to the fateful day when my “junky cyst” was discovered during my annual, routine mammogram and ultrasound, I feel compelled to respond to all of the “Hello, can you put a heart on your wall?” requests. No, I won’t. I do not do the cut and paste thing on social media to support any cause or to receive an abundance of puppies and kittens raining showers of gumdrops into my life. I don’t type “Amen” in response to someone else’s prayer.  I don’t “Like” posts to prove that the Internet works or that I love my sister.

More importantly, however, I will not post a little red heart because not one single red heart on social media is going to save a life. Do you know what will? Regular high-quality screening mammograms and clinical breast exams.  That means breast exams done by a medical professional.  I didn’t say that, but the National Cancer Institute did. (Mammograms, https://www.cancer.gov/types/breast/mammograms-fact-sheet, visited 1/15/2017).  

But what about breast self-exams?  Actually, according to the National Cancer Institute, regular breast self-exams are not specifically recommended for breast cancer screening. Sad to say, but in clinical trials, such screening alone was not found to reduce breast cancer deaths.  Of course, this does not mean that women should not do regular self-exams, but women should do them so that if something is not quite right, they can go straight to their doctors. Do not pass “Go.” Do not collect $200.

During my 350 day sojourn thus far, I have spent more than my fair share of time with medical professionals -- my gynecologist, my breast surgeons, my oncologist, physician assistants, nurses -- talking about, yes, breast cancer. Do you know what these highly educated, experienced folks (who are not prone to hyperbole, by the way) say when they talk about breast cancer? Things like, “Chris, you would not believe how many times a day I get another call . . .” and “It’s epidemic.” Or, “I can’t believe I had six of you in treatment at the exact time, for the same type of breast cancer. It’s not supposed to be that common.” (I guess it is, though.)

Do you know what these same folks say when they talk about what makes the difference in success rates from treatment? (That’s medical speak for continuing to live.) Early detection saves lives. They mean it. I am the poster child for routine screening. I would not have found my “malignant neoplasm of the right breast” with a breast self-exam. It was not palpable, meaning no one could feel it, and plenty of people tried, believe me.

Ladies, enough with the little red hearts.  Have your annual mammograms. Make friends with your breasts, your boobs, your tits, your tatas, your lemons, your cans, your girls, whatever it is that you call your lovelies. If something looks or feels weird or different, no matter how small, call your doctor. Don’t ignore it. It’s not going to go away or get better if you pretend it is not there.  I have never heard a single doctor say, “Gee, it was kind of stupid for you to come in and have me look at this.”

Is all of that sad, scary, or even terrifying? Yes. Yes, it is. Do you know what’s even more sad, scary, and terrifying?  Doing nothing and ending up as a memory, as a little red heart on someone’s wall. 

I am glad I got that off my chest.