Earn the Pink: A Breast Cancer Awareness Month Challenge

I find myself dreading October 1, the day the world turns pink.

The month-long campaign for breast cancer research and education is an astounding success in terms of raising awareness and money. That I will admit. But it has become an event. A celebration. Pink, pink pink.

Everywhere I look, I see pink.
It’s hard to witness when my sister is on her third battle with breast cancer, which has now invaded most every part of body. Cancer will be her constant companion. She will spend the rest of her life beating it back whenever it threatens to establish primary residency.

I cringe at the constant reminders.

I wish I could turn off the lights for just one month so I wouldn’t have to see it.

 The pink.

But I can’t do that. I have to experience this month, regardless.

So I started thinking about what I can do to ease the stress, what all of us can do.

How about this?

Instead of posting ribbons to our Facebook profiles, crying over survivor stories and wearing pink t-shirts, sneakers and hats, why don’t we do something about it? Do something to help save ourselves, our relatives and our friends?

Why don’t we each make a positive change and become an example?

It doesn’t have to be a huge change. It can be as small as doing a few crunches in the morning to tighten those abs, or switching out a morning bagel for a bowl of oatmeal, or promising to start each day with one positive thought.

It’s that easy.

Those are the little things that can make a big difference. They can make us healthier – less likely to become victims, and stronger in battle should it break through our defenses. These are changes we can talk about with others, encouraging them to follow our leads.

Post it on Facebook, chat about it in the office, tweet it.

We don’t know what caused my sister’s cancer.

She’s always taken good care of herself. I suspect environment played a role. She lives in Southern Jersey in an area where cancer rates are unusually high. But even as she holds her head to stop the pounding, or clenches her stomach to ease the nausea, she’s trying harder. She’s working to improve her way of living – her diet, her attitude and her fitness.

She is fighting with everything she can.

So go ahead and cheer her on with pink flags, pom-poms and ribbons.

We all want to know someone is thinking of us, and I’m certain that helps.

But jump in and fight, too. Prepare for battle and arm yourselves well. Don’t let breast cancer have it easy. Wear the pink glow that comes with a brisk walk, or after a good night’s sleep or when you look in the mirror and tell yourself life is good.

Make pink the color of your battle uniform, not just your décor.

Bye-bye Kindle Fire; Hello Kindle Paperlight: In search of a mentally healthier diet

I thought I was done with e-books, that for me, they were a passing fad.
My Kindle Fire often lost its charge due to lack of use. I found myself attracted to it only when I had writer's block and, even then, I ignored the books I'd bought, seeking something more mindless. I played Angry Birds, determined to get three stars on each level.
Then, one day, one of our seven-year-olds burst into tears. His refurbished Kindle Fire has lost its ability to take a charge. He'd been playing Minecraft with his twin. I let him use mine, figuring I didn't really need it.
And that got me thinking.
My sweet husband had bought me a Kindle nearly seven years ago, soon after they were first introduced. He wanted me to have something I could throw in my diaper bag and take anywhere when the twins were babies. I was starving for mental stimulation at the time. I devoured book after book.
The end came when he replaced my simple reader with a Kindle Fire.
Suddenly, I had all kinds of distractions at my fingertips. Yes, I could read, but I could also play games, check my email and surf the Web. Each time I picked it up, I had to make a decision and, when my brain was exhausted from writing, I chose mental junk food.
I chose Angry Birds.
I fully returned to physical books for reading, but I read only when I consciously made the time, when I knew it was safe to pull myself out of reality and let my mind drift in another universe. With four children and a traveling husband, I found it harder and harder to give myself permission. I read less and less.
My Kindle Fire, I realized, had become a bad habit, much like the handfuls of semi-sweet chocolate chip morsels I would grab from the pantry when I was tired. Angry Birds was junk food for my mind, the temporary boost that left me mentally malnourished.
What would happen, I thought, if I eliminated the temptation?
I took the plunge.
Without allowing myself time to think, I gave my Kindle Fire to my son and ordered the Kindle Paperlight, a lightweight version of the device that does nothing but allow owners to read. With it, I ordered a cover that turns the Kindle on instantly when it is opened.
From the moment I first held it in my hands, I was in love.
This devices calls me. With nothing else to do, it begs for an unread book, forcing me to buy a new one when the last one is complete. I can't help but to comply. It reloads in an instant, and then sits there within reach, begging me to read that book, the only thing it has to offer, even as I sit at my laptop and write.
It's a trick of the mind.
I know that.
But it's gotten me reading again.
I'm floored by the time I wasted on other distractions. With the new Kindle, I worry less that I will become too immersed to read just a few pages at a time because it saves my place when I close the cover and reopens to the very same spot, shouting, "Read me! You have no choice!"
No finding my place when a bookmark slips out. No finding a bookmark when I want to stop. No waiting until bedtime to read because I don't want to be bothered. And, most important, no "home" button that offers a plethora of other choices.
Simple.
I've read three full novels since I received it two weeks ago and I'm also reading a physical book that I keep on my treadmill. The balance between physical books and e-books is back as is the joy of escape.
Perhaps my battle with chocolate chip morsels inspired me. That habit was born with the twins, a product of exhaustion. A few weeks before I ordered the new Kindle, my sister Kathy persuaded me to add two ounces daily of eighty-six percent cocoa bars to help prevent cancer (She is on her third battle and determined to beat it.).
After just a week of healthier chocolate, I realized I hadn't touched the morsels. The craving was gone. I ran out of dark chocolate two weeks ago, forgetting to replace it, but I still have no craving. Nor do I have a craving for Angry Birds.
I have a healthier body and a healthier mind.