Parties, and cancer.
Jun. 1st, 2009 07:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slowsculptureOn Saturday, I went to a party thrown by my buddy Chris, who I've worked with for the last couple of years. She was celebrating being finished with the treatments for breast cancer she's been going through, for most of the past year - I can only rely on other people's descriptions of that process, thank God, but ending it sure sounds like a good occasion to celebrate, and she went all out. There was a bouncy house, guys. No fooling. More specifically, she called it a Thank You party, from her, to all the people she considered her moral support during the treatments. I thought that was sweet - Chris is, among other things, a very tough person, outwardly, so I think she just wanted to be sure and say 'thanks for being there' in a way that no one could miss.
The party itself was interesting - she invited people from a few different circles she runs in, so there were a lot of new people to meet. But around the fourth or fifth Komen Foundation/pink ribbon/"Peace - Love -Ta-tas" t-shirt that I saw, I was struck with what a moment it's become for breast cancer, lately.
I mean, you really can't throw a stone without hitting one of those ribbons these days, can you? There is a lot of campaigning going on, and it's an odd thing, sometimes. (I mean, really - is someone 'on the fence' about cancer? I there someone who is not, strictly speaking, aware of this disease?) Fundraising for research is going on, obviously, but there's something else happening, too, and it's fascinating, to me: people are actually out campaigning for compassion, and trying to end the isolation that so often accompanies severe illness. That's not a vocabulary we use much among strangers, in this culture, and I am fascinated by the way the conversation is unfolding.
And most surprising of all, it's having an effect. I am cold on imagining heroism where only misfortune has actually happened, and breast cancer awareness campaigns do teeter on that line, occasionally. But, I approve whole-heartedly of anything that lets hurt people look past their own pain, and place themselves in a bigger story. And I'm amazed by the change that's come about in the experience of cancer, just in the last decade or two. It's gone from something that happens in a tiny little hospital room, cut off entirely from the rest of human life, to something that can be the subject of public discussion - even a party. That's an accomplishment, isn't it?
The party itself was interesting - she invited people from a few different circles she runs in, so there were a lot of new people to meet. But around the fourth or fifth Komen Foundation/pink ribbon/"Peace - Love -Ta-tas" t-shirt that I saw, I was struck with what a moment it's become for breast cancer, lately.
I mean, you really can't throw a stone without hitting one of those ribbons these days, can you? There is a lot of campaigning going on, and it's an odd thing, sometimes. (I mean, really - is someone 'on the fence' about cancer? I there someone who is not, strictly speaking, aware of this disease?) Fundraising for research is going on, obviously, but there's something else happening, too, and it's fascinating, to me: people are actually out campaigning for compassion, and trying to end the isolation that so often accompanies severe illness. That's not a vocabulary we use much among strangers, in this culture, and I am fascinated by the way the conversation is unfolding.
And most surprising of all, it's having an effect. I am cold on imagining heroism where only misfortune has actually happened, and breast cancer awareness campaigns do teeter on that line, occasionally. But, I approve whole-heartedly of anything that lets hurt people look past their own pain, and place themselves in a bigger story. And I'm amazed by the change that's come about in the experience of cancer, just in the last decade or two. It's gone from something that happens in a tiny little hospital room, cut off entirely from the rest of human life, to something that can be the subject of public discussion - even a party. That's an accomplishment, isn't it?