Now, before you read the title and think I am starting a fury about the pink ribbon campaign, please read on as I am mad. I am so tired of opening my Facebook page and seeing yet another friend, another friend of a friend or even a complete stranger being diagnosed with breast cancer. It breaks my heart to see young children being left behind as their mother loses her battle. I am sad when I see another woman say it was detected at her first mammogram when she was forty. We need to push the laws to change.
Young girls are reaching puberty at a much younger age. They are developing at a faster rate and are hit with all within our foods and environment that are likely toxins. Simply sit back and remember your Granny frying up chicken if you are over 45. It was a delicious dish where you may have grabbed seconds or even thirds. Why? They were not produced chemically. They were not doused with antibiotics that made them four times their normal size. It was likely it came from the backyard, not some cramped chicken farm. It was simply chicken…
No one can convince me that even the free range chicken are actually pure. They started somewhere. You cannot tell me that somewhere in their line their great grand daddy chicken was not induced with some growth hormone somewhere down the road. So, here we are today with young women dying from breast cancer in their 30s and 40s at alarming rates. Pink ribbons are everywhere. They have become big business on their own, but where is the fight to change the laws to have women beginning to get mammograms at 30?
Think about it, if young girls are developing breasts at an earlier age would it not make more sense to bring the age down from the age of 40? Would it not seem to be the right thing to do in order to start saving more women rather than waiting until they are fighting a stage 3 or stage 4 battle, fighting for their lives?
I long to see the day when I see less pink ribbons, less blue ribbons and yes, less yellow ribbons. They are all signs of battles. Battles that could be prevented. Emory Austin once said “Some days there won’t be a song in your heart. Sing anyway.” I don’t want to sing. I want to yell. I want to scream. I want to take the pain away from friends, families, a complete strangers just by one ounce of prevention by allowing mammograms at an earlier age. Won’t you yell with me??