Think Pink!

October is a very important month to me. When I was ten, my Grandma Teri was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. She battled it on and off for ten years before she finally succumbed to it. I remember sitting in her living room when she told the family about her diagnosis, and not understanding what was happening, but knowing, somehow, my world had changed and not for the better. Ten years is a long time…to live with cancer, and to be a survivor. I feel like if she were diagnosed with cancer today, things would be a lot different, and she would survive.

My grandma’s battle with cancer was something the whole family dealt with, and I often think, how most of my siblings never knew her without cancer. The chemo made her grumpy and tired—the chemo killed her to give her a little extra time. To her, it was worth it. To me, it wouldn’t be. As I watched her go through her treatments, I decided I would never use chemo if I was diagnosed with cancer (I have a strong possibility of this because of family history). And then I saw the movie 50/50 (I highly recommend it, if you haven’t seen it), and I knew I wouldn’t ever use chemo. I don’t like the idea of poisoning myself. I would just want to live my life as happily as I can in the time I have, and there are other options. You just have to research and find what’s out there.

I spent the summer before my grandma died with her, and even then, my grandma wasn’t herself. I was not in Minnesota when she died. At the time of her death, I was angry at my mom because she had changed my flight, and I wasn’t with my grandma during her last moments. As time has gone on, I am glad I wasn’t there. I don’t think I could have handled it emotionally. I talked to Grandma Teri on the phone right before she passed. I talked and listened to her breathe. She couldn’t speak. I knew it was the end. Still, a short time later, when my dad told me she had passed, I called him a liar and cried like I have never cried before—probably since. Her funeral was very hard for me because everyone said they could feel her spirit, but I couldn’t. And I wondered why…why she wasn’t with me, the person who might have been her favorite person in the world? I didn’t understand it. And I was angry. I was angry at God for taking her away. I was the angriest at people at the funeral, who kept telling me Grandma had to talk to me before she could let go. Those words made me feel as if I had made her suffer longer. Honestly, my grandma loved me, and she probably did want to hear my voice before she died. For some reason, she loved me deeply—even before I was born. (I have read her journal entries she wrote about me). I have since realized people were saying it to comfort me, not hurt me. Late at night, the day of her funeral, I felt her with me. And since then, I feel her close by.

My biggest fear is that I will forget her. How could you forget someone who was close to you? Who you were named after? It’s been fifteen years, and I don’t think about her as often as I used to. The pain has subsided some, though it will never fully go away. There are some days—when something important happens in my life, that I wish I could share with her—that the pain is unbearable. That I sit in my room, and I cry and allow myself to miss her. Other days, I listen to The Phantom of the Opera or Abba music to feel close to her. I sing Toto’s Rosanna (she sang Morganna) or Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock.” She loved music, and I love listening to the music she loved. After all, Abba said, “Who found out that nothing can capture a heart/ Like a melody can? … Thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing / Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing / Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty / What would life be? / Without a song…what are we? / So I say thank you for the music / For giving it to me.” She instilled that love of music in my mom, who gave it to me. I know Grandma’s close to me when a robin flies near, or the sun hits my face in a certain way—the sun feels like when she would gently touch my chin. She did call me her sunshine, and I try hard to live up to that nickname, though some days I feel I greatly fail. I think of her when I shop at Target. She loved Target. She worked at the Headquarters for years, and even took me there on several occasions. Target treated my grandpa well when my grandma passed. So, I will always be a Target shopper.

Four years ago, I had my first thermal scan on my own breasts because I had reached the magic age of 30 and have a family history of cancer. My scans came back with some trouble spots. When I was told about them, I wasn’t worried. I knew if they turned out to be the big “C,” that I would be okay. I am Morgan Laine, and I have the spirit of Teresa Elaine Morgan in me. I am a fighter. My second scan came back clear, so I am good. Next year, I will have another check, but I am not worried. I have learned the power of positive thinking. I tell myself I am not going to get cancer. I know I won’t. I don’t worry about it. I am healthier now than I was then. Grandma, taught me about being positive, too. When Grandma was fighting her battle, she found a four leaf clover on the roadside, and she kept it in her baseball cap. Now, I have a four leaf clover necklace I wear to remind me of how lucky I am.

Although I don’t support cancer research charities—mostly because the money doesn’t go to cancer research, but to the people running the companies (Do your research before you donate. This is not true of all charities), I do wear pink once every day in October to support all the people I know who have been impacted by breast cancer. Obviously, I have been impacted. It is important to me that research is performed to end breast cancer. I don’t want to see another family go through what mine went through.

I will admit…I think I have great breasts. They are the perfect size for a lot of girls. I think they are too big for me. I wish they were smaller. They used to be bigger, so I can’t/shouldn’t complain. I make jokes about them; like they are great for catching food I drop while I am eating (it happens a lot), or they are a nice resting spot for Bambalina (she likes to lay right there, haha!) I am glad they look good in no matter what I wear. Still, I have taken precautions to protect them. I try to wear an underwire as little as possible (If you are a girl research why that is so important); I drink a bunch of water, and I exercise. I also eat pretty healthy—a Reese’s every now and then won’t kill me! It’s important to be informed and get checked. Don’t forget:  men can be diagnosed with breast cancer, too, so it’s important for them to know what to look for. So, think pink in October, and protect yourself and the ones you love. Do it in the memory of my grandma. It would mean a lot to me.