Earlier in March, Angelina Jolie thrust cancer back on the global agenda by announcing that she has had her ovaries and her fallopian tubes removed. Forgive me if I wasn't overwhelmed.
You see, just two years ago she sparked the same feverish fanfare when she revealed she had undergone a double mastectomy, to prevent the onset of breast cancer, boldly declaring she could finally tell her children "they don't need to fear they will lose me to breast cancer".
Her second round of preventative surgery came in March when the Maleficent star, who possesses the genetic mutation called BRCA1, which significantly increases your chances of developing breast or ovarian cancer, underwent what is medically known as an laparoscopic bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy.
The radical approach means her child-baring years are behind her and she will go into early menopause. With six children to raise and Brad Pitt for a husband, it's easy to understand why the 39-year-old actress wants to stick around as long as possible.
As a woman and someone who has witnessed first-hand the crippling devastation that cancer leaves in its wake, I respect her brave decision. But something about her delivery doesn't quite sit well with me.
Cancer is emotionally draining
Simply put - cancer is a bitch. You can educate yourself with all the studies, watch all the documentaries and compete in all the charity 5km runs as a way of "doing your part". But none of it can truly prepare you for the diagnosis that could potentially leave your loved one at the mercy of drugs and oxygen machines - physically, mentally and emotionally drained - before unrelentingly chipping away at their body until death becomes a welcome respite.
Although the BRCA1 gene mutation is actually quite rare, history has showed us cancer itself doesn't discriminate. Some victims of the debilitating disease have been some of the biggest stars of the 20th and 21st century. Apple's Steve Jobs, Shirley Temple Black and Patrick Swayze to name a few.
The power of celebrity status can be a dangerous thing, even if your intentions are good. When Jolie made her first bold statement to the masses in the 2013 open letter to the New York Times entitled, My Medical Choice, she became a poster child for preventative treatments as well as people living with the cancer gene.
It may have not been a role she initially desired, but by telling the world that she wanted to "tell other women that the decision to have a mastectomy was not easy", she opened a debate and committed herself to the cause. A campaign that would require the same level of dedication and commitment she had shown to combating violence in conflict in her role as UN ambassador.
But within weeks, she had gone silent and cancer had taken a back seat to more glamorous pursuits. Sadly, I can already see history repeating itself following her latest announcement.
For the next few weeks, Jolie getting rid of the majority of her reproductive organs will no doubt be a talking point and awareness will spike with a predictable upsurge in the number of women getting screened. But just like with the fickle nature of showbiz, interest will soon start to dwindle.
New priorities for Jolie? Hopefully
Although I resent the idea of having to eat humble pie months from now, for the sake of the millions of women that idolise her and are looking to her to lead by example, I hope I am wrong.
While there's a good chance she has shied away because cancer is so close to home - her mother, grandmother and aunt died of the disease - I hope her latest health scare pushes her to reconsider her priorities and expand her influence.
Maybe consider working alongside a cancer charity or launching a non-profit cancer foundation. Either way she must strive to continue flying the flag and raising awareness, even when people lose interest and another celebrity story starts dominating headlines.
Don't get me wrong. I applaud her bravery, her ability to relate to the woman next door who is contemplating removing her own breasts or ovaries to buy herself more time with her children. Or the teenager, who is too scared to find whether she bares the genetic mutation after the trauma of watching her mother become a frail shadow of her former self.
Rent-a-gob Katie Hopkins branded Jolie's move "smug", claiming she was "filling her boots with preaching, only to fill her lungs with tar", in one of her latest predictable, attention-seeking rants. That couldn't be further from the truth.
Jolie's actions are commendable but her work is not yet done. She has left much to be desired and this is the time to act.