Pink

Yellow is my favorite color. Although yesterday, pink was making a strong impression on me. Not because I watched Legally Blonde (who can resist Elle Woods?), and not because I was feeling especially girly. The color pink made a strong impact on me because I had the opportunity to scrub in on a mastectomy.

The woman I met yesterday had a viscous case of breast cancer, requiring surgical removal of her entire breast. It was very sombering to feel the walnut-sized mass in her breast, and to realize how such a seemingly small insult could lead to such a life changing event. The surgery involved making a large incision around the borders and carefully dissecting out the entire breast. When we eventually liberated the breast, we transferred it into a container to be sent to pathology. It was so strange to see her femininity sitting there in a jar, and to look down at her, sedated, with a huge hole in her chest. I was in such a medical mindset at the time, but as I pause to reflect, it all seems so personal, so sad. As we stiched up her chest and began to wake her up from surgery, I looked down and just thought that there was, strangley, something beautiful, something so very courageous about this woman. I have fortunately never known anyone who has tackled breast cancer. But to the 182,460 women who were diagnosed just last year, and the millions of breast cancer survivors out there, I pray that you continue to have strength, faith, and hope for a cure. After this experience I will view the pink ribbon with a whole new perspective.