By ANA FERGUSON
Yesterday, I had to go on a little shopping adventure. A pretty normal excursion, you would say. Nothing uber exciting. A bit of retail therapy normally puts a smile on any woman’s dial. Traditionally, I find wandering through the shops and focusing on something other than cancer, a great way for me to take my mind off my woes. I like to lose myself in all the sights, sounds and activities going on around me and just roll along with life.
BUT NOT IN OCTOBER.
In October, I can’t escape the pink. There is Pink Pink Pink – everywhere. Pink cardboard figurines are over enthusiastically scattered all around the stores. Pink ribbons on lapels. Pink merchandise at the counter. Every way I turn my head I can see pink pink pink and I hate it.
As a mother of four daughters pink used to be such a part of my life. When the girls were younger it was pink everywhere and the lovely colour used to generate a warm fuzzy feeling inside as I reflected on the memories of pink tutus, pink shoes, pink fairy wands, pink rooms and generally just the joys of being a mama to little girls.
Now I despise it. Pretty powerful words I know, but I know I am not alone. There are a lot of us Stage 4 Breast Cancer patients out there walking amongst you who feel exactly the same.
On my shopping outing, the well-meaning sales girl approaches me and whilst trying to flog me a certain type of floor board, she throws into the conversation how they are assisting breast cancer and I can feel my fist start to clench. I am not a violent person, but I wanted to deck the poor unassuming girl right there and then.