Colorectal cancer is not a pink-ribbon disease. I don't mean to diminish the efforts of those who have brought breast cancer research to the forefront, but let's face it: rectums are well, rectums.

Don't like mammography? How about a sigmoidoscopy? Ouch.

My maternal greatgrandmother, a Pennsylvania farm wife and mother of seven children, died of colorectal cancer in the late 1930s. My grandmother and great-aunts were haunted during their lives by the memory of the pain their mother went through, undiagnosed until the final stages of her disease.

She never complained, they said. She always put us first.

According to the American Society of Colon and Rectal Surgeons, colorectal cancer is the second most common cancer in the United States, striking 140,000 people annually and causing 60,000 deaths. That's a staggering figure when you consider the disease is potentially curable if diagnosed in the early stages. In Georgia, the American Cancer Society estimates that 1,300 men and women will die of the disease this year.

It also is an inherited disease. One of my great-aunts was diagnosed later in her life. My mother is now religious about being checked for the disease. My turn comes next year when I hit 45.

Colorectal cancer isn't considered a "women's disease," yet it is as prevalent a health care concern today as it was 70 years ago.

Of course, times were different during my greatgrandmother's life. The medical profession often trivialized women's complaints, chalking them up to hysteria. In my relative's case, that practice was perpetuated by the woman herself — a Germanic stoicism that "strong" women bore pain in all its ugly forms without complaint.

And, of course, there was that modesty thing. Colorectal cancer first appears as blood in the stool, not a dinnertime conversation starter.

Today we know better, right?

Let's just say the medical profession is beginning to be aware of all that it doesn't understand about women's health concerns — and that's a great leap forward, because it is trying.

For example, heart disease — the No. 1 killer of women — finally is beginning to be recognized as a serious health problem that must be addressed during annual physicals.

But while the medical profession is starting to take women's heart health seriously, women often don't — ignoring exercise and dietary guidelines. To top that off, the symptoms of heart disease in women often present differently than those of men, leading diagnoses down the wrong path.

This issue of Pulse examines women's health needs. Over the past 30 years, women's health has evolved into a complex and specialized field that can be challenging to health care providers.

Sarah Freeman, director of the Family and Women's Health Practitioner programs at Emory's Nell Hodgson Woodruff School of Nursing, believes the primary difference is that women's health has gone beyond the "navel to the knees" practice of gynecology and obstetrics to include a more holistic approach.

"As we move into [practicing] more evidence-based medicine, research shows us that women's health issues are different from men's," she said. "New data comes out all the time; it's challenging to keep up with all the new information."

But while information avenues have improved, there also is a fundamental problem that has grown worse in the past three decades: poverty among women.

"Many women don't have health insurance and have not had a total good checkup," said Grace Nteff, a nurse practitioner and teacher at Clayton College & State University. "Their dental health is poor, their cardiovascular health is poor — they are not following through with regular health maintenance to keep their heart healthy."

During community health screenings, she reports that many women in their mid-to-late 40s have high total cholesterol and elevated blood pressure, but don't seem to make their own health a priority.

"I believe they are overwhelmed with their day-to-day demands," she said. "Their priority is placed toward their kids, but there's no balance."

I think that sounds too much like my great-grandmother's situation. So I wonder. How far do we still need to go?

Do you have any story ideas for Pulse? Please e-mail me or call me at 404-526-2617.