Fighting the War in My Rack

They were pink camouflage, and the words on the front said “Fighting the War in My Rack”. And it had a little pink ribbon in the corner.

We were at a party for a friend. She needed us to rally and so, we all did. In pink t-shirts. Even our guys.

She found out through a routine mammogram that she had to have a mastectomy – possibly a double. And that it was going to happen quickly. She was overwhelmed by it all and was feeling very vulnerable; especially since she found out she had cancer while her husband was out of town.

So we all came, brought food and wine and hugs, and showed her how much we care – and told her that we will do whatever it takes to help her, her husband and her two young kids get through it.

“My doctor says one in eight women get it”, she said as she looked around the table. “You can all thank me; I am ‘the one’ in this group of eight.” Even in the gray light of cancer, she still was a beacon of brightness. Her humor was still intact, her smile showing through her tears.

It’s the fear of the unknown that is getting her down. It is the not knowing how she will look, how she will feel, how she will handle this big change in her life.

Knowing her as I do, I can pretty much guarantee that in a few months, when it’s all finished and she is mending and her rack is new and improved, she will have realized that she needn’t have been so fearful. But for now, fear is what is over-riding the calm.

On the way home, my husband was very silent. He finally reached over and patted my knee and said, “This was quite a learning experience for all of us men. We really didn’t realize how much breast cancer can challenge your femininity. And no matter what, if we tell you it doesn’t matter to us – I guess what we do have to realize is that is does matter to you – to a woman.” He was silent again but then said, “Just do me a favor. Remember that your rack is not why I love you. It does not make the woman that you are.”

He’s quite amazing my husband. And I hope that someday very soon, our friend will discover that we love her no matter what size or shape she is. It’s hard for us to remember that, isn’t it? It’s hard to keep in mind that no matter what hair color, clothing size, age, shape, weight or bra size we are, it’s the beauty inside that truly defines us.

In the meantime, we will all keep Fighting the War on My Rack, and show her that we love her through good times and through bad – and know that thankfully this war – at least for her – will soon be won.