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Trivializing Breast Cancer for the Transgender Agenda
In December 2020, I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and in February 2021, I had a single mastectomy. It was a stunning diagnosis, because I had been in great health, had regular mammograms (which would not have detected this lump) and had no history of breast cancer in my family. Prior to the surgery, a team was organized for my treatment. I was also encouraged by my surgeon to speak to a doctor who could do reconstructive surgery, but when I went to schedule an appointment, I decided against it. My husband and I agreed that the less surgery I had, the better. When my surgeon asked me if I had talked to the plastic surgeon, I said no, and that was the end of the discussion. The cancer team, including the surgeon and the oncologist, were compassionate and were devoted to my care and to answering my questions. The chemotherapy nurses in particular were beyond kind and considerate.
So when I learned recently about how the transgender movement is essentially trying to coopt breast cancer detection and treatment, I was angry. That movement has already disrupted the health and well-being of girls and women, boys and men, to such a degree that I was baffled that they were trying to corrupt breast cancer treatment. How was that possible?
For nearly four decades, the country has recognized October as Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Sadly, this year we must draw attention to how activists and even some medical professionals are exploiting the complex disease. Breast cancer treatment is the latest medical field to be ‘queered.’
Two people-watching episodes this past week brought into focus the real crisis in public health. WuFlu is not a public health crisis, in itself. Rather the grossly politicized exploitation of this novel respiratory disease virus, in service of the lab coat left system, advocated by Woodrow Wilson in the late 1890s and starkly warned of in President Eisenhower’s farewell address, has corrupted and effectively silenced real public health advocacy. Consider two real public health perennial campaigns, largely lost in the noise of COVID exploitation.
Many of you have heard my saga about my bout with cancer and chemotherapy; that is only marginally what this post is about. As a result of my experience, I realized that I had made a major change in my perspective about my own agency in a way I’d never known. It was partly inspired by my husband, who is a skeptic about many things but is big on taking responsibility. But I also began to realize that beyond his support, I had to, wanted to, take charge of my own medical decisions, which meant that I was taking charge of my life in a whole new way.
Clever title, isn’t it? Of course, I’m not a doctor nor a medicine woman, and over the last few weeks I’ve learned how inept I am at diagnosing just about anything.
