A long-time friend told me recently that she had detected an anomaly in her breast; medical tests revealed that she had cancer, and she subsequently had a double mastectomy. She is recovering well and will soon began chemotherapy. Her breast cancer diagnosis and subsequent surgery is a reminder of how common the disease is, and how vigilant we must be in its detection.
I have been an advocate for breast cancer awareness for several years, primarily because of two good friends, both female and both survivors. I shoot pool for recreation and a few years ago I bought a pink pool cue case; I would carry the case each year in the month of October. In some of the bars and pool rooms that I used to compete in, there were men who took a dim view of a grown man carrying a pink pool case. As someone who had worked in fashion for years and who has long ago shed the antiquated notion of color as a gender indicator, I had occasion to respond to unkind cuts and snarky comments about my hardware. I spent some valuable time trying to educate those men — few women ever commented on my pool case — and then, I made up a series of business cards printed with American Cancer Society breast cancer statistics. I would pass the card to the snarking Cro-Magnon and pocket the eight ball in the corner pocket. The American Cancer Society estimates that in 2023, “about 297,790 new cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed in women.” Statistics like made me realize that breast cancer awareness should be a year-long event, not just October. Those sobering statistics made me decide to carry my pink pool case everywhere, all the time.
In a recent foray to my neighborhood bar, I was shooting pool when a man, seated with a woman at a table near me, made a comment about my pool case. I knew the man on a casual basis and had competed against him. I stepped away from my game, went to my pool case and pulled out two of the informational cards I had printed. I turned to the couple and said to the man, “I carry this case for your mother, your sister, your aunts, your wife and daughters.” I handed each of them a preprinted card that had a statistic about breast cancer and returned to my game: “8 ball, corner pocket.” During a subsequent visit to the bar, I overheard the man making positive comments to another man about why I carry a pink pool case.
I’m happy to explain the reason for the color of the case I carry, so that I can make a case (see what I did there?) for educating people about breast cancer. At a recent social event, I wore a pink shirt emblazoned with a pink ribbon, and the caption “For the Love of her Life.” A woman at the event noted the shirt and showed appreciation for me wearing it. But it should also be pointed out in the bars and pool halls I frequent, that although rare, men get breast cancer too. In 2022, it was estimated that 2,710 men would be diagnosed with breast cancer in the U.S. and approximately 530 would die. That’s the kind of statistic that might sober up my pool hall junkies.
When I am carrying a pink pool case past my neighbors (one couple thought that the case was for carrying artwork and materials) I am going to the hall to address the balls, and maybe, continue my education program.
cjon3acd@att.net