The game of Breast Cancer

I spend most of my Sundays during football season, watching football.  All day long.

You can take the girl out of Pittsburgh, but; you cannot take the Pittsburgh out of the girl.

I love football.  I am so glad my dad taught be all about football. 

I have seen numerous guy hit by really big guys.  I have seen legs broken, noses busted and blood flowing.  After the injury, they are driven off in the medic golf cart and sidelined until they are cleared for play. 

They stand on the sidelines, or sit, whatever the case may be.  I find that so interesting.  They stand on the sidelines until they are cleared for play.

Today, on the bottom the of the screen, the scroll is all about the NFL supporting Breast Cancer.  Flashing the pink.

Currently, my nanny has cancer again, after surviving breast cancer, two of my friends are "wrapping up" breast cancer, my neighbor's sister has breast cancer, my neighbor's mom has throat cancer, my dear friend has cancer, and my neighbor just got cleared from her breast cancer.

They didn't flash any pink, they walked around as bald as could be and participated in everyday life.  They didn't stand on the sidelines after being tackled in the heart, mind and gut with the words, "you have cancer."

They go on power walks, go to work, run the sweeper, clean the fridge, do the carpool turn, sit at ball games, walk dogs, put the coffee on and go on doing what they do.  No sidelines.  No returning until they are cleared.


My one friend, who is "wrapping it up"  told  me that she had a bad day and was miserable and cranky.   Really?  You had a bad day, one?  And you are beating yourself up?

Could it be that you are just sick of being sick?  Tired of people looking at your bald head, sweating, being sick, having no appetite, no energy and still having to go on?  Really, maybe that is why you had a bad day.

I don't know but I think if I asked all of these ladies if they could chose, would they pick being tackled by some big football player, like Gronkowski or having cancer?  I am pretty sure they would pick the tackle.

But yet, most have a treatment season, longer than football season, and yet they still participate in their own lives, no sitting on the sidelines.

Instead of scarves, I have always thought that women going through any of this should get to wear crowns.  REALLY PRETTY crowns.  Who cares about hair when you have a crown of jewels on your head.  And when you were well, you passed the crown on.   It would mean hope to the new receiver.    Wigs make you sweat.  Crowns make you dazzle.

Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that the NFL is doing something and doing that something very well.  I love the awareness,, I love the bright pink and I love that it can only help and not hurt. 

I just find it so ironic that with a sport that is all about being big and strong and mighty, the mightiest, the strongest and the people who give it all that they have got, are the ladies with the bald heads staying strong every day.  And I cannot help but think that most of those big old football players, are just mamma's boy who know that their mom's never had a chance to stand on the sideline, regardless of the situation.

So, here's to strong, bald women who don't stand on the sidelines.  The get prodded and probed and pricked and examined.  You are the ones who should be going to the SuperBowl.