Knit your own knockers V2 — have someone knit them for you! I found a lovely resource on etsy to get some soft & comfy mastectomy prostheses. I’ve been wearing these instead of the heavy silicone ones since my surgery and they are really comfortable. They fit perfectly into the Anemone Bra, which has a handy little pocket in each cup — http://www.amazon.com/PACK-Seamless-Removable-Strap-Black/dp/B00D3672OK/ref=sr_1_2?s=apparel&ie=UTF8&qid=1376415485&sr=1-2
…….Preferences…….
i prefer no outpouring of grief
when I die
no rending of garments
or tearful recriminations
i prefer no memorial service
held by my colleagues at the office complex
for which i worked for 30 years
(with only incremental advancement
and short shrift-ed raises)
if you must gather
out of some sense of duty
or flailing regret
at moments not made
whole or half-measured
i prefer you do it at someplace awkwardly chaotic
like Disneyland, or Vegas
or better yet the bar in Ypsilanti after the drag show
midnight on a snowy Thursday
so the tipsy tiara-ed moirologists
wreathed in sequins and feathers
can cry their sable colored river of tears
at the prize announced in my name
i prefer you wear red
with shiny black party shoes
that pinch just slightly
in such a way that you grimace
and think of me
i prefer that anyone who says they admired
my dedication or spirit or courage or
humor in the face of adversity
be pelted unmercifly with the skittles
thoughtfully provided on every table
i prefer that all discuss in detail
the catch phrases i annoyingly overused
the stories too often repeated
my willingness to laugh at my own jokes
and my decided decline in sartorial splendor
as i aged in to a certainly flannel flavored dishabille
unrelieved by a discernible waistline
i prefer the poems be funny
and the elocutionists aware that
reading them in an accent not their own
will reap them merits in whatever
unearthly meadow i now graze in
(i prefer they also know that earning a boon
from my current location
has only a 50/50 chance of being a good thing)
i prefer the conversations be giggly
and by those who truly admired the wonder that was me,
drunken and at minimum inappropriate to the
solemnity of the gathering on at least two occasions
i prefer that it is remembered
marked well and underlined
that i preferred to hate you all
save those that i preferred to truly love
I finished what was hopefully my last surgery of this particular cruise and after a month of recovery returned to work at the beginning of May 2013. What I haven’t found much discussion around in my cancer research is the post traumatic stress associated with an experience like this. I’ve been working on it with my naturopath who did an adrenal panel and discovered that my cortisol levels were totally opposite of what they should be — something one sees in trauma victims or individuals returning from active combat. It explains a lot about why I wasn’t sleeping and was beginning to go slightly insane. I’ve started some adrenal support herbal therapy along with acupuncture and craniosacral massage therapy and am feeling much more like myself. While sleep is still somewhat elusive, I am feeling much more rested and centered. I think it will still be a long haul to get all the way to full superpowers, but I’m well on the way.
Every day I am grateful for friends and family both furry and shaved. Your delightful support has formed the boat that carried me to this shore. Namaste.
Bubbaluv
Pink Ribbons Inc. on Netflix Instant
Hello all, just a quick post to say I’m doing fine. I have been struggling a little to get through the days now that I’m back in the office full time. I have just about enough energy to get me through the day and then go home and do the basics and in bed by 8PM (sad, sad, sad, old lady). I am feeling like I am getting my juice back slowly though.
I also wanted to share this great documentary I ran across, Pink Ribbons Inc. It’s based on a research book and I found it fascinating. It explains the vague distaste I had for the whole pink ribbon tyranny that got pushed on to me the minute (literally) I was diagnosed. This documentary discusses how womens’ cancer has been marketed and dumbed down and co-opted for corporate profit, often by the same corporations that are putting chemicals & elements in to the environment that cause cancer in the first place. I highly recommend watching it.
My love goes out to all trying to regroup after hurricane Sandy.
Sincerely,
Princess Feh, daughter of Senorita Crankypants (hi PK!)
Greetings all. Apologies for not writing more often, but I have been feeling a little overwhelmed with the post-cancer shenanigans exhaustion and a little anxiety/depression. I’m physically feeling pretty good, still exercising daily and trying to eat right. The heat has been a challenge because it tires me out a bit faster then I normally would be. I’m dealing with some post traumatic stress disorder-like symptoms, but have gotten some help through my doctor to address them. I think all emotions are somewhat amplified by the Tamoxifen induced menopause. The hot flashes are doable and not too sweaty (just a nice flush-y glow, like you just kicked a yard gnome and skipped away in the sunshine. . . ), so that’s a blessing.
My friend Larry has been a delightful purveyor of fine cashmere boobs that are so much more comfortable than the prosthesis. I also found a comfortable little t-shirt bra that already has a nice little built-in pocket that perfectly accommodates my knitted boobs. The brand is called Anemone, style IW4540. Larry is helping me to figure out how I can fix a different, front closure bra to hold the cashmere boobs securely — the front closure would be better for deep v shirts. The Anemone is great for t-shirts or scoop neck stuff. It’s funny how my life is starting to be divided in to things that require me to wear boobs, and things that I can do happily flat chested (mostly everything but work falls in to the second category).
My lovely friend and neighbor Jen took me thrift store shopping yesterday to try and sort out some work clothes. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if thrift store shopping out here in amerika would be able to rival the great finds I was lucky enough to get on a regular basis in NYC, but let me tell you we did great. I took home 15 pairs of pants, several tops and a fabulous rain coat for under $90. My new work wardrobe was achieved for less than the full price pair of pants at Talbots. Jen knows her stuff, let me tell ya.
Anyway, all is well here. As always, I’m carried along by the prodigious amount of love and luck given graciously to me by my friends, neighbors, family and dog — by the bucket full, chickadees, by the bucket full.
Namaste
I just watched an amazing documentary that I highly encourage everyone to see. “Busting Out” by documentary film maker Francine Strickwerda is a moving personal portrait of her own feelings about her breasts after her mother’s death from breast cancer interwoven with insight into the meaning of breasts in western culture (an anomaly worldwide — the vast majority of cultures do not sexualize the breast. Of course, they usually have their own substitutes like thighs, buttocks, back of the neck. . . .).
Make your own radical beauty! Bald, hairy, big breast, small breast, one breast, no breast, fat, thin. . .wear it with all the joy of an existence in this big freakshow of a world, and blaze the trail for all of us glorious defectives coming after. The waves you make, the minds you change, are a precious gift to all of us.
http://movies.netflix.com/WiMovie/Busting_Out/70237056?trkid=7728646
It’s hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head. ~Sally Kempton,Esquire, 1970
The final countdown begins. If all goes well, I’ll be done with radiation by this coming Tuesday. My skin has given up a bit, but is still valiantly trying to hold on. I’m going through a tube of calendula creme a day. I think the daily exercise & nutrition stuff has done a lot to help bump my energy up. I keep chanting to myself the statistic I read somewhere that said that the body heals 7 times faster when you exercise. Everything is moving along and I’m happy to be near the end of this long, crazy road. Truthfully and daily I am happy to be alive. Bubba and I are both looking forward to a lazy Saturday filled with opportunities to lay very still in a prone position. . . .
Namaste my friends, have a wonderful weekend!
I’m just starting the last two weeks of radiation and doing fine. Exhaustion hits early and sometimes unexpectedly, but I’m feeling pretty good. My skin is getting fairly red and sunburned looking, but so far still holding together. There may come a moment where clothing becomes uncomfortable, but so far not there yet. I’ve been slathering up with calendula creme by Boiron and that seems to be speeding up the healing. The creme is great. After all this is over I think I will keep using it as a hand creme — it does a great job. All is going well! The weather is gorgeous! I’m feeling OK! Lot’s to be grateful for!
Namaste
Today as Bubba and I were taking our evening walk, we were set upon by one of Ypsilanti’s most notorious girl gangs, The American Gangsta Girls. I had been warned about the rough youth element in Ypsi before I moved here, but sadly I thought any ruffians would hesitate to take on both a nearly bald shuffling old lady AND a Rottweiler. Alas, I was terribly, terribly wrong. The AGGs set a trap to distract Bubba by grinding liverwurst in to the sidewalk in front of their lair. As I attempted to draw Bubba away unsuccessfully, they fell upon me like a band of midget jackals and forced me to sew clothes for their American Girl dolls in sweat shop conditions while listening to songs by a male gang they called “The Jonas Brothers” and used their sharp tiny fingers to scratch at my ankles while gleefully emptying my pockets of lifesavers. It was a harrowing experience, and not one I thought I would survive. Bubba finally used all his tremendous cuteness quotient to subdue their leader, Kitty “Fangs” McBride (pictured left) by melting to the ground and rolling on to his back. This cadre of angry scrapers couldn’t resist and fell to their knees in tribute to their vanquisher. We have at last arrived home, bent, emotionally bruised, but luckily not broken by our brush with this frightening local criminal element.
This is an interesting article from Dr. Mercola’s website on early stage breast cancer and the dangers of over treatment. My first mammogram was last year at age 44 (when I was diagnosed with stage IIIB inflammatory invasive ductal carcinoma – a.k.a. the “you are screwed” version of breast cancer). I would have done thermography, but it’s expensive and wouldn’t be covered by insurance, plus if there is an anomaly in your results you must have a mammogram anyway in order to get the insurance to pay for subsequent treatment. While I don’t necessarily agree with all aspects of this article, it is good food for thought and I feel strongly that the anti-cancer diet they discuss really worked for me. It has helped my health a great deal to cut out refined flour, sugar, soda, factory farmed meat and snack foods. Eating well is a challenge, but how good I feel as a result makes up for it.
Namaste from The Great Baldino. Be well, live long and prosper!
Baubo's Ride 