Buying underwear has never been high on my list of favorite pastimes. And I would never darken the door at Victoria's Secret even when I HAVE to shop for unmentionables. In fact, my underclothes are so boring that they ARE mentionable. Say "cotton," "plain," "opaque, not see-through." In fact, I'll go ahead and say it: "Hanes Her Way" cotton underpants along with the least expensive bra I can find which will make my clothes fit.
Since my mastectomy, I have had to purchase my topside underclothes at a specialty shop for women in my condition. The store offers quite a wide array of styles, but I have been muddling along with a few "plain Jane" bras for my oh-so-lovely silicone inserts. I have not bothered myself with any special designs; just the basics is all I have thought about.
Picture my surprise and chagrin a few weeks ago, as I rushed to get ready for a fancy dress evening, when I discovered that the dress I was planning to wear....and the only thing I own that was really appropriate (I also do not shop for dressy clothes until backed up against a wall of necessity)....would not work, so to speak, with my meagre selection of undergarments. The bodice of this dress features a square cut neckline, and the bras I own did not accommodate this cut. Not a good look...a couple of plain white bra straps sloping across my upper chest, under a very chic black cocktail dress.
My brain flew into overdrive, and I decided that I could just pull an old trick from early teenage years, and stuff one of my old "leftover" bras with some tissues. But when I frantically began to scramble through my lingerie drawer (I use that term loosely), I remembered that I had donated all my old bras to Goodwill last year. What to do?
I wish I could report a wonderful MacGyveresque story (remember the TV show?) about my improvising an appropriate bra out of a couple of belts and a castoff tennis shoe. Wish I could, but, no; I just made a very dull choice and wore a "Sunday-go-to-meeting" dress which could sort of pass as a cocktail dress.
The moral of this story is "just because you don't have anything to put in them, doesn't mean that you shouldn't own a wide array of brassieres." Live and Learn.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Mark Twain
"I am able to say that while I am not ruggedly well, I am not ill enough to excite an undertaker." Mark Twain
George Will used this quotation a week ago in an editorial about his turning 70; I thought it was a marvelous quote, and I just had to use it. And in fact, it does speak to where I find myself right now.
Where I find myself is in between.....in between the end of treatment and possible recurrence down the road somewhere; in between blithe disregard for my health and stupid worry; in between life as usual and life forever changed. I don't want to become one of those people who never gets over having a particular experience. On the other hand, I do want to keep the freshness of the cancer terror somewhere nearby, so that I can use it for motivation to remain committed to a healthy life....defined by low stress, good-for-me food, laughter, plenty of exercise, and love given and received.
George Will used this quotation a week ago in an editorial about his turning 70; I thought it was a marvelous quote, and I just had to use it. And in fact, it does speak to where I find myself right now.
Where I find myself is in between.....in between the end of treatment and possible recurrence down the road somewhere; in between blithe disregard for my health and stupid worry; in between life as usual and life forever changed. I don't want to become one of those people who never gets over having a particular experience. On the other hand, I do want to keep the freshness of the cancer terror somewhere nearby, so that I can use it for motivation to remain committed to a healthy life....defined by low stress, good-for-me food, laughter, plenty of exercise, and love given and received.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Halleluia
Perhaps another day I will feel like a longer post, but for now, let's just say that there is "joy in Mudville." The PET scan for metastasized cancer was negative.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
PET Scan - Hoping to be a cool cat, not a hot dog
This morning at 7:45 I casually arrived at the Forsyth Radiology Center, dressed appropriately in clothing without zippers, snaps, or other metal fasteners. As if it were an ordinary day, I smiled at the nurses and technicians, chatted amiably, presented my left arm for IV insertion, received the dose of radioactive glucose, and grabbed up a couple of magazines to peruse while the stuff pumped through my vessels to reach all the important parts...my brain, my bones, my liver, my lungs. I spent a very pleasant hour, lounging in a recliner under a warm blanket, waiting for the stuff to do its duty.
As I understand it, the radioactive glucose travels around the body, and since cancer cells LOVE sugar, they will gobble it up greedily and show up on the scanner as a "hot" spot. I am hoping, of course, to find that there are no such spots anywhere in my body.
The time in the scanner is short...maybe 20 or 30 minutes, and since I was covered with another warm blanket, I think I slept a bit. Unlike an MRI machine, this scanner is quiet, and except for an occasional shift in or out of the open ended tube, I couldn't tell there was anything happening. The staff is so professional, yet nonchalant, that one could forget that this two hours on a Wednesday morning was an "edge of the cliff" kind of experience for me. Most of the time, I wasn't thinking of the outcome; but when I came out of the machine, the thought washed over me that the answer was waiting on the monitors in the next room. But I am going to have to wait a whole week before finding out whether I am a "cool cat" or a "hot dog."
Stay tuned.
As I understand it, the radioactive glucose travels around the body, and since cancer cells LOVE sugar, they will gobble it up greedily and show up on the scanner as a "hot" spot. I am hoping, of course, to find that there are no such spots anywhere in my body.
The time in the scanner is short...maybe 20 or 30 minutes, and since I was covered with another warm blanket, I think I slept a bit. Unlike an MRI machine, this scanner is quiet, and except for an occasional shift in or out of the open ended tube, I couldn't tell there was anything happening. The staff is so professional, yet nonchalant, that one could forget that this two hours on a Wednesday morning was an "edge of the cliff" kind of experience for me. Most of the time, I wasn't thinking of the outcome; but when I came out of the machine, the thought washed over me that the answer was waiting on the monitors in the next room. But I am going to have to wait a whole week before finding out whether I am a "cool cat" or a "hot dog."
Stay tuned.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Vulnerability
I've had vulnerability in my mind a lot lately. (This is not nearly as much fun as having "Carolina in my mind" - apologies to James Taylor.) About two weeks ago, I was feeling pretty much on top of the world, eating right, exercising, working outside, planning things. In the midst of that I realized that breasts can be a big hindrance, and that, in many ways, without them, I feel like the powerful, almighty, invincible pre-teen girl that I was 52 years ago....breastless and glad to be.
Growing up in the rural South, I spent a lot of time outside in the summertime, and, until I was about 8 or 9 years old, I was allowed to go "bare-breasted" in the warm weather. There was a sense of equality that came with that shirtlessness. Then came the horrible day when my mother insisted that I was too old to go shirtless. It was a real downer for me. Breasts make a woman vulnerable. Their growth on her chest brings attention, and she cannot hide them. For an uncertain pre-teenager, breasts are just one more differentness to have to deal with. They are easily bumped and bruised, and become one more reason that girls must be treated differently.
Don't get me wrong.; I understand the utility, even the fun, of having breasts. But my memories of my years without noticeable mammary glands are decidedly positive ones. The minute the darn things started sprouting, I began to experience a differentness that was not altogether welcomed. No more tackle football, more closely monitored after-school activities, changed expectations about relationships, etc.
I know breast cancer is not the number one killer of women; I believe that award goes to heart disease. But cancer is still a big and ugly plague on womankind, and it does seem particularly cruel that the part of a woman's body which has made her vulnerable and visible as a woman since puberty should be the very part of the body susceptible to this crappy disease.
This rambling post has not "come together" as smoothly as I would like. The bottom line, I guess, is this: doing without breasts has reminded me of how powerful I felt as a girl and how some of that power faded when I entered puberty, perhaps because I felt more vulnerable. Now, I am really enjoying that feeling of freedom again, going breastless (and sometimes braless) into my future.
Growing up in the rural South, I spent a lot of time outside in the summertime, and, until I was about 8 or 9 years old, I was allowed to go "bare-breasted" in the warm weather. There was a sense of equality that came with that shirtlessness. Then came the horrible day when my mother insisted that I was too old to go shirtless. It was a real downer for me. Breasts make a woman vulnerable. Their growth on her chest brings attention, and she cannot hide them. For an uncertain pre-teenager, breasts are just one more differentness to have to deal with. They are easily bumped and bruised, and become one more reason that girls must be treated differently.
Don't get me wrong.; I understand the utility, even the fun, of having breasts. But my memories of my years without noticeable mammary glands are decidedly positive ones. The minute the darn things started sprouting, I began to experience a differentness that was not altogether welcomed. No more tackle football, more closely monitored after-school activities, changed expectations about relationships, etc.
I know breast cancer is not the number one killer of women; I believe that award goes to heart disease. But cancer is still a big and ugly plague on womankind, and it does seem particularly cruel that the part of a woman's body which has made her vulnerable and visible as a woman since puberty should be the very part of the body susceptible to this crappy disease.
This rambling post has not "come together" as smoothly as I would like. The bottom line, I guess, is this: doing without breasts has reminded me of how powerful I felt as a girl and how some of that power faded when I entered puberty, perhaps because I felt more vulnerable. Now, I am really enjoying that feeling of freedom again, going breastless (and sometimes braless) into my future.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Alligators Again
About two weeks ago, I was out of town and had another alligator dream, which I want to note in this blog, just for the record. At the time I woke up, the dream was quite vivid, and I should have written a few notes at that time. But I didn't, so what I have left are a few shreds of images and some thoughts about meaning.
In this dream, which was in vivid color, I spend a lot of time running.....I think to help someone. At least one of the times, I believe I am somewhere near my hometown, out in the country. In each dream sequence, my running takes place on rather narrow strips of solid ground between watery canals. And in those canals are....you guessed it....ALLIGATORS. The water is clear enough to see the gators swishing along under the surface, although the dominant color of the water is rusty brown. Or really, more like the color of iced tea.
During the dream, I focus on the need to get somewhere fast, rather than on the alligators. However, I am conscious that they are next to me, and that a foolish step to one side or the other will put me in the water with them. I watch them very closely as I run.
The rest of the dream is lost in that place that dreams go. However, the alligators in the canal have stayed with me. Here is my interpretation. Right now I am on a pretty narrow path toward health, and I am running as hard as I can to save my own life. As long as I can maintain the pace and keep to the narrow path, I have a chance to evade the alligators. I know that one of them can decide to crawl up out of the canal; but, at the moment, they seem content to stay in their place without bothering me.
In this dream, which was in vivid color, I spend a lot of time running.....I think to help someone. At least one of the times, I believe I am somewhere near my hometown, out in the country. In each dream sequence, my running takes place on rather narrow strips of solid ground between watery canals. And in those canals are....you guessed it....ALLIGATORS. The water is clear enough to see the gators swishing along under the surface, although the dominant color of the water is rusty brown. Or really, more like the color of iced tea.
During the dream, I focus on the need to get somewhere fast, rather than on the alligators. However, I am conscious that they are next to me, and that a foolish step to one side or the other will put me in the water with them. I watch them very closely as I run.
The rest of the dream is lost in that place that dreams go. However, the alligators in the canal have stayed with me. Here is my interpretation. Right now I am on a pretty narrow path toward health, and I am running as hard as I can to save my own life. As long as I can maintain the pace and keep to the narrow path, I have a chance to evade the alligators. I know that one of them can decide to crawl up out of the canal; but, at the moment, they seem content to stay in their place without bothering me.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Chew, Chew, Chew Your Food
Some things are best left to the imagination. So, get your imagination revved up to figure out what happens when one begins to eat a minimum of two cups of cruciferous vegetables each day. Cruciferous vegies are things like broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, and brussels sprouts. You got it....things that, when they are cooking, smell like a grammar school lunchroom , and can smell worse at another point in their life cycle. And they require a healthy digestive system to get them all happily processed.
I learned, via my Naturopathic doc, that I really need to chew my vegetables very thoroughly in order to avoid the unpleasant side effects of this assault on my digestive tract. Because there are enzymes in saliva that "kick start" the digestive process, there is less work for the old stomach and gut to do. So, it seems that my mother was right; I do need to eat more slowly. And, guess what! It really works! No more concern about being able to leave the privacy of my own home after a meal!
Amazingly, I find that I never get hungry between meals on this regimen, and my weight is staying steady at my "pre-cancer-diagnosis-optimum-weight." Although weight control was not at the top of my list of concerns when I decided to attempt this dietary re-make, the pleasure of eating plenty while staying slim provides great positive reinforcement for staying true to the diet. Plus, I just like the food.
In closing, here's a little ditty to help you remember this important information:
I learned, via my Naturopathic doc, that I really need to chew my vegetables very thoroughly in order to avoid the unpleasant side effects of this assault on my digestive tract. Because there are enzymes in saliva that "kick start" the digestive process, there is less work for the old stomach and gut to do. So, it seems that my mother was right; I do need to eat more slowly. And, guess what! It really works! No more concern about being able to leave the privacy of my own home after a meal!
Amazingly, I find that I never get hungry between meals on this regimen, and my weight is staying steady at my "pre-cancer-diagnosis-optimum-weight." Although weight control was not at the top of my list of concerns when I decided to attempt this dietary re-make, the pleasure of eating plenty while staying slim provides great positive reinforcement for staying true to the diet. Plus, I just like the food.
In closing, here's a little ditty to help you remember this important information:
Chew, chew, chew your sprouts,
broccoli and kale;
If you chew just like a cow;
Chew it then and chew it now.
You'll not produce a gale.
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