No Pink Ribbon For Me

By Camila Sayf

I have a scar. It itches, aches, feels uncomfortable to a touch though it's been already five years. The tissue underneath the scar is numb & hollow. To get this scar is not easy. You actually need to go through a lot of pain, agony, frustration, disbelief, loss of personal integrity & humiliation of your own soul. One day my scar wispers to me - hey, look at ya, ya'r still here! On another day my scar would shout - don't you get it? YOU'RE ALIVE! And the other day it went on screaming - YOU LIVE, DAMN IT, DO SOMETHING USEFUL!

I learned to live with my scar. It still hurts, especially when the weather changes or when a sudden cold wind blows. Or when my hormons give me a kick. Then I can't sleep on my right side - my scar is there & it takes advantage of my body on those lovely days of the month.

When I went in to get that scar, I remember, it was cold & they gave me an extra blanket. They wore green robes & masks. But I saw one, who took her mask off & then put it back. Beautiful smiling Irish face, she told me that my scar is on his way & we gonna be just fine. I have a flash-back, my GP calling me & telling me to sit down...Mammos came in, something strange, looks like calcifications, lots of them, but they couldn't get a clearer picture. They want them removed. I am concerned. I have a good reason for being that way. My dearest friend, my mom, had been tried with a stage two. She has a scar now. And she has a wig somewhere in her closet - a small reminder of her big ordeal. Well, my masks were concerned too. Remember that - truth is out there..somewhere? So they went in to search for that little personal truth of mine. Bye-bye, sweety pie, mommy will be right back! She couldn't walk back then, she crawled at my cart right before they were about to pull me through the doorway. Kisses, hugs...I love you, sweet heart! And you, my brave man, I LOVE YOU TOO!!!

We don't say those words much in our daily life. It's a shame we don't. And now I have a scar to remind me about it. When it hurts, aches, feels sore, I know - it's time to give my love to people who love me.

My scar is pink. Like that ribbon, so beautifully folded. I wear that pink ribbon for my dearest friend, my mom. I wear that ribbon for my sisters around the world who went through this devastating life exam. I wear that ribbon for those who do not know about the pain it takes to get those scars. All over the world. But I do not wear that ribbon for me. Because I do not have a breast cancer...

...instead I wear my pink scar, my Brave Heart Medal, the reminder of the deep gratitude I feel for being here, for being who I am, for not losing it when I was tried, for having a moment of silence for the victims & for holding the pink banner for all breast cancer survivors.

In my cyber writing projects I go by the name Camilla Sayf. Some people know me as the author of Lebanese Chronicles. I am a former language teacher, currently trying to work from home as a free-lance writer & taking care of my family, children. I am a convert to Islam, & in this find my greatest inspiration.