This post is written by Kate Williams, who is an estate planning attorney. This is not to be construed as legal advice, but just some good practical guidance to anyone who is having a procedure of any kind done in a medical setting.

Legitimize your pink-out game by donating to a 501(c) non profit organization that directly impacts breast cancer survivors and thrivers.

Corporate America knows the value of a good public relations campaign. They love to appear charitable. What could be easier than putting a pink ribbon on a product? The appearance of saving women. After all, everyone knows someone who has had breast cancer. They claim a percentage of profits go to a breast cancer charity.

A lot of folks say that fretting about your hair at a time when you are facing a potential death sentence is vain. A little bit, yes. But that sentiment is overly dismissive. It’s more about control.

With cancer, you lose control of so many aspects of your life. You lose your freedom, your time, your hopes and dreams are all hanging in the balance and suddenly you are not even sure if you can see your kids go to kindergarten or graduate high school.

It’s about control. It’s about privacy. It’s about options. It’s about dignity.

Port access and a newborn is not the Netflix and chill we hope for, and as it turns out, we’ve yet to see a “managing your chemo treatment during postpartum recovery” in the pamphlet section of our respective cancer treatment centers.

Kate Williams was 37 years old and her kids were ages eight, five, and nine weeks old when she was diagnosed with Triple Negative Breast Cancer in 2019 while on a family vacation in Disney World during her postpartum season following the birth of her third child, Penny Lane. Her active treatment and surgery continued into the beginning of a global pandemic, which greatly altered her cold-capping experience.

We are so happy you are taking your health into your own hands, and we are so happy you heard us and learned from our experiences with breast cancer.

I couldn’t imagine spending more than one shower crying because another clump of hair was falling out on cancer’s terms - and not mine. Add on weeks of picking up hair all over the house, and I’m not on board for those kind of shenanigans.

That’s a hard unsubscribe for me.

Cancer showed up uninvited, so I’m not giving it any wiggle room to run the show. That seems rude, honestly.