What's wrong with the pink ribbon anyway? I've been asked this question more than a few times. It seems like a fair question, so I thought I'd share some thoughts about why the pink ribbon has lost its appeal to many, including me.

Twenty-five years ago, I sat in my doctor's office and heard these words: You have breast cancer. That was in 1987, when the world's population reached five billion, a gallon of gas was 89 cents, Ronald Reagan was president and the FDA approved AZT for AIDS.

The Illinois State Rifle Association (ISRA) has announced its second annual Shoot for the Cure next Sunday. The event will benefit the Susan G. Komen ...

You'd never drive a car without a seatbelt or bolt across a street without looking both ways, right? These steps help you avoid potentially devastating risks. But did you know that when getting a mammogram, you can do one simple thing that may sidestep a potential side effect?

Breast cancer enters our bedrooms. It comes with us to fitting rooms. It's with us at weddings when our mothers or sisters are not.

The color pink has pissed me off since 2001, when I was diagnosed with second stage breast cancer.

My breasts didn't define me before they were removed. My breasts don't define me now. But every scar and imperfection does serve as a daily reminder of the strong, unstoppable force I am.

It is time we disrupt the business and system of breast cancer. It's time we disrupt the status quo. We must create an innovative environment for breast cancer research that will lead us toward the eradication of the disease.