Year: 2019

Next up: Weaving

Prologue: So today there was a message in my inbox from Bluehost giving me fair warning of a considerable 2 year fee that will be charged to me in January. I’m impressed that they’re giving me a couple of months to decide if I want to keep this blog going. I love to write and it’s good for my brain, but it’s pretty self focused which is irritating even to me.  

I figure since I still have this blog, I should post something, right? Right. 

It makes sense to tell you about my recent foray into weaving. It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for EVER … all my life (ok that sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s actually true). I’ve always had a bit of a penchant for textiles. Here’s a run down of my textile making creative life to date: (ok, I know that sounds boring. Maybe it is boring. But not for me. Read on if you’re not asleep already.)

Embroidery

I learned to embroider when I was a youngster. I’d paddle over to Rachel’s cabin (the one that I now own), and sit with her while she patiently taught me basic stitches. I made an eyeglasses case that still sits in a drawer in mom’s cottage. It’s really ugly but I can’t throw it out.

Since then I rarely embroider. Sad but true. In fact the only embroidery I can think of that I’ve done are the little people that I carefully added to this tea cozy (made in the 90’s).

Made from sunny scraps and extra quilt batting. It’s had one set of repairs and appears to need another as one of the little dudes has lost a leg. Like the yoga people? Namaste.

And of course, random embroidery on my jeans. But that hardly counts.

Freestyle.

Knitting

I learned to knit at camp Oconto when I was 18. I started with mittens which were hilarious – one big one small – but I loved it and not long after I made this hat. I still wear it. ALL. THE. TIME. If I lost it I’d cry my face off. Here are some pics of me in it over the years. 

I wish I could find the pattern, but alas, I had no knitting journal then.

I’ve knit many many things over the years – recently all small things (socks, hats, mitts, scarves – things you can give indiscriminately). I started my journal in 2006 but had already been knitting for about 20 years. (Just think of all of the lost information and questionable commentary that didn’t get recorded!) Here are some excerpts to give you an idea: 

Journals may feel laborious, but they become great little memoirs. (Note: Liam wore this sweater zero times after the day of this photo. Annie wore the shirt once or twice more. They basically were shit to knit for. All they like are socks and the odd pair of mittens. And so it goes. Kids these days – now 15 & 18 btw.)

These socks are currently on the needles (almost off, actually). A Christmas gift, so I’d better get the second one cast on…

Note: if you make them short like these, you can get 2 pair from a Zauberball. Just sayin’

Smocking

I took a SMOCKING course at a store downtown when I was in high school – WHO DOES THAT? I was weird. 

I made a peach coloured dress for someone’s daughter. No journal, no info. But I kept the patterns. 

Nothing more about smocking. 

Quilting

I made my first quilt in around 1990. I cut the squares by hand (I didn’t know about rotary cutters – or about the importance of leaving a seam allowance, so my squares were TINY) and of course I hand quilted it. Blood sweat and tears, baby! Then it was lost. LOST!! SOBBBBB. But there’s a photo of it in my quilting journal, so that’s something. (Of COURSE I have a quilting journal. Shut up all of you non-journallers.) Here are some highlights… 

Here you can see my first (lost) quilt, me working on the denim quilt for Ben (1994), the baby quilt I made for Karl (hands by his grade 1 class @ Chemong PS). Lots of blue in this collage…

I currently have 3 quilt WIPs (works in progress for you non-makers), two that I’m hand stitching and one that’s in a bin (the quilt top pieces are still being constructed):

  1. the cabin quilt
  2. the one for my mom, and
  3. the star quilt in stripes and polka dots 
1. This quilt for the cabin is also getting a few embroidered people – so far my fav is a dude playing guitar.
2. Made from my dad’s flannel shirts. While I started planning this quilt in 1997, I didn’t start cutting pieces till 2004, and I’m DETERMINED to have it done IMMINENTLY. I’ll leave it at that.

 

3. This one is going to be super funky. Sadly, it is a pain in thy ass to make the stars and I need to be in the right frame of mind for it. Once I’m in that frame of mind, I’ll make the remaining 17 in one go. Shazam!

Weaving

So ya, I have so much time for weaving!! LMAO 

But seriously, I have been looking forward to weaving for a long time. When I mentioned my interest in weaving to Paul a few years back, he sourced me a loom for my birthday. How nice was that?? 

Daunting. Exciting!

“Weaving for Beginners” is the first course I’ve taken since I retired in June. It was 4 days of learning. I loved every minute of it. The confusing terminology: heddles, shafts, shuttles, beater, reed, dents, sley, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. We made a sample on the first weekend – the idea being that first of all we’d have to learn how to “dress the loom” / set up the loom (ok, that process is FUCKING BRUTAL), then learn how to weave the most basic patterns. 

This is my ‘sampler’. I added beads and fringes to make it interesting. It’s fairly hideous, but a good guide to the basic stitches that I will rely on as I do my first projects.

The second weekend we made a scarf. This gave us the chance to dress the loom again … NO EASIER THE SECOND TIME.

First you have to figure out how much warp thread will go on the loom (the stuff you’ll weave on). You measure it on this warp board, count it, organize it, tie it. Then you lay it on your loom, attach it, and feed it through the heddles one by one. Slow.

I made a scarf! There are lots of errors, but it’s still pretty cool. 

Christmas gift I think …

My first solo project is going to be a denim rag rug. But it’s stupid to dress the loom for one rug RIGHT?…  so I’ve decided that I’ll make 3. I’ve ordered what I need (blue cotton for the warp and a special rag shuttle). In the meantime I need to cut 1/2 inch strips of denim  … so … does anyone have any old denim jeans that they want to get rid of?? 

Until next time, I remain #retiredaf

 

Silicone Boob Man

A couple of weeks ago I finally got to meet the renowned plastic surgeon Dr. D, at his office in the dirty dirty Schwa, broken wrists and all (he’s not operating right now, relax). First time I’ve ever visited a doctor and shopped at Chapters in the same location, but whatever. Silver linings are everywhere, I find!

Dr. D

I arrived to a small waiting room that was empty save for two older Italian ladies who were struggling to understand the information page they had been assigned to complete. I asked if there was anyone there – they indicated in broken English that the receptionist was out for a coffee. Huh? Within moments Dr. D himself emerged and handed me my own clipboard, then 5 minutes or so later he re-emerged and got me. Not typical waiting room protocol, but oh well!! 

Armed with my notepad and pen, I followed him into a small office – typical 2 chairs in front of a desk, atypical large reclining type exam chair (like a dentist’s chair) in the corner. Weird. But ok. Maybe boob exams need to be upright to observe perkiness. (My mind works this way.)

He thanked me for coming, I asked him how his wrists were healing up – small talk kind of thing, and then he asked me lots of questions – when was my bilateral mastectomy, had I had any operations other than that, etc. He had never heard of a SCAD heart attack – I explained it – he indicated that I’d have to be cleared for any surgery by my cardiologist. Interesting fact #1. 

Once he was done asking background questions he opened a drawer and pulled out two sample boobs. This is where I leaned forward in my chair. 

The boobies

He started by showing me a sample of the expander boob (proper term is tissue expander) and explained that after an incision is made across the scar line, the expander is placed behind the pectoral muscle. Saline is injected once a week for 5 weeks (or until the desired size is reached). The expander has a round spot on the top that is made of a different material – the injection goes in there. But I didn’t ask about any more details. (Expander questions weren’t on my list lol.) If you are interested, you can look at what the Mayo Clinic has to say (a favorite resource of mine).

Then he chose a suitable implant, noting my previous bra size and commented “you have more droop to your skin” (um, ok … I know what you are getting at and I’m 54, ok?). He handed it to me. Of course I stuck it against my chest and thought to myself “There is no fucking way I’m going to wear a bra again!” which translated to me explaining in the nicest way possible that I don’t actually want breasts – I just want things smoothed out. Can’t you do that? 

Pause. Dead air kind of pause. 

The “this is want I want, what I really really want” discussion

I suppose it’s not common for a patient to come to you and say that they don’t actually want what you have to offer (boobs). I told him ya, I really just want to smooth it all out. Is that possible? So then he said he had to take a look at my chest. He left while I put a robe on (likely because “take your shirt off so I can have a look” sounds inappropriate – but really, … I mean he’s just going to pull back the robe and look anyway! Waste of time. But it did allow me a moment to capture this stunning robe in a mirror photo.)

So I sat in the dentist’s chair and waited. He came in and asked me to stand up (so why have the chair?). He then looked at my chest, allowing me the opportunity to point out exactly what I want smoothed out. Isn’t it OBVIOUS? OMG. 

Here’s the first shocking info: when I grabbed onto the fatty remnants of boobie and said “Can’t you just get rid of this leftover breast tissue … I mean why is it even here?”, he told me that it’s not breast tissue. OK WHAT? Nope, it’s SKIN. (Well it’s skin that looks an awful lot like the bottom of my old boobs!!) Interesting fact #2. AND … if he removes it, it will be concave. Interesting fact #3.

I’m thinking that it would be like the divot that Dr E (initial surgeon) causally told me occurred because they likely took too much fat attached to the skin in that spot.

So then Dr. D gave me a bit of an anatomy lesson – showed me where my pecs start and explained that the entire breast was removed. I said “so the breast is in a capsule?” – he confirmed that more or less, yes. Interesting fact #4 BUT I can’t seem to verify this with Dr. Google which bugs me. Regardless, all this time I thought they just missed some of my boobs. 

Dr. D went back to the implant drawer and grabbed another sample – a considerably flatter implant with a much greater diameter. He said that this implant would achieve the effect that I want. That is, if I want an implant. 

But … do I want an implant? 

No I really don’t. I don’t want to have a foreign body in me if I don’t HAVE to. “Lots of people have foreign bodies in them and are fine.” Dr. D had noted. True. Prosthetic hips and knees, pins and bolts to hold together plates that support broken bones, stents, pacemakers… But breasts are optional. Cosmetic. Other implants are not.

At the beginning of our meeting he said (with resignation in his voice) “I’m sure you’ve heard about the recall of textured tissue expanders and implants in the news.” Yes, I said, I had. (I can’t imagine that women getting cancer from a specific type of implants is particularly good for business.) He explained that implants are made of silicone. I listened. And I asked if there are other options

Dr. D’s Wife

It turns out that Dr. D’s wife is also a surgeon who specializes in reconstruction using the DIEP Flap method. (Two breast people. Imagine what that means, just for a moment.) I’d seen this term referenced here and there but didn’t know a lot about it. Dr. D gave me a summary: fat is moved from one part of your body to recreate your breast. But before he’d explain further, he needed to know if I am a candidate – in other words, do I have enough fat to move. (I was literally scoffing out loud at this point – OMFG my belly might be an ASSET!! I’m the IDEAL candidate! Interesting fact #5.)

He asked me to unzip my pants so he could have a look at my belly (no robe required here, I noted). And then to drop the robe off my shoulders so he could see my back fat (the reason I won’t try on sports bras at LuLu Lemon anymore). He pronounced me a candidate DUH and we sat back down and he told me:

  • it is a day long surgery (really, a day? You mean 24 hours? 5 hours? Come on. I’m a details person. But I let it go.)
  • an incision is made across the belly (right across …)
  • tissue and a bit of your abdominal muscles are removed (my FAT and a blood supply source)
  • implant is done
  • the blood supply has to be carefully connected so that the tissue does not necrotize (um gross)
  • you have to stay in the H for approx 3 days
  • your abs take a while to heal

I asked if chunks are taken out of the belly – how does that work (imagining two hunks of fat taken out). “No, it’s an incision across … like a tummy tuck.” OK ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?? (Obviously Interesting fact #6, am I right?)

He then showed me what the two procedures look like when they are healed – implant versus DIEP Flap. Essentially implants are more perky and symmetrical and there is a massive abdominal scar with the DIEP Flap. There are plenty of stories of people who have had the DIEP flap surgery done – this one is a good one to look at!

Risks

I asked about infection and risks (thanks Jenny). He admitted that yes, implant surgery comes with a much higher risk of infection. “It’s a foreign body.” (Calmly stated, like I’m an idiot.) Note that he did NOT talk about any other risks. But I will tell you! 

I follow #flatandfabulous on Instagram – a hashtag used by cancer survivors who have had a unilateral or bilateral mastectomy (one or two boobies removed). There are many interesting, brave, strong women who share their photos, stories, challenges, fears, etc on instagram. Recently I started following @hollykthrasher who had implants removed after they made her very sick. It’s called an EXPLANT. Interesting fact #7.

Coles notes: Holly went through implant surgery, had marvelous tattoos done and yet was never feeling well afterwards (heart palpitations, sinus issues, muscle & joint pain, chronic inflammation, insomnia). She finally determined, through intrepid research, that her implants were making her sick. She had them removed. Here they are (with the skin and part of her tattoos clinging on).

Note: these implants were in Holly for almost 3 years. You can see a layer of tissue around the implants. These “capsules” are formed by the body as a response to the foreign body being there – likely as a matter of protection. Explant surgery is painful and difficult, since the capsule must be removed as well. 

Second Note: Within weeks after the explant surgery Holly said she felt like her old self. You can read more about her or buy a copy of her book (that chronicles her journey) on her blog

Of course this is not to say that everyone will develop “Breast Implant Illness” (BII is a thing!). But some do. 

What’s Next?

I’m going to see Dr. D’s wife, at Sunnybrook and find out more about the DIEP Flap surgery. (We’ll call her Dr. S.) I don’t know that I want the procedure done, but I don’t want to say no till I have all of the information. I have to admit, the tummy tuck / smooth chest combo pack is rather appealing. 

I can feel a pros and cons list forming. 

 

Still with the Doctors

You’d think that once they’ve cut your boobs off, dosed you up with chemo for 3 months and then marinated you with Herceptin for a year you’d be good and DONE and they’d let you MOVE the fuck ON. But no. That’s not how it works. I WAS WRONG. This is how it works: 

6 months = magic number

It appears that if something were to change in your body, it would take 6 months, because that’s how often they want to see you. Not 7 months or 8. Nope. 6 months. 

I went to see my surgeon last week (the cute one who once demonstrated a sense of humour when he said I could get a tattoo of a camel on my sand dune chest). It’s been 1 1/2 years since bilateral mastectomy surgery, so I’ve had a few check ups with him since then. OBVIOUSLY my chest is totally healed up so I was going to cancel (it was SO BLOODY NICE AT THE COTTAGE), but I came home for the appointment because I’m a model patient. (insert grace face emoji)

This is the grace face, FYI.

The check up followed the same procedure as the last ones:

  • he called me out of the waiting room
  • led me to an exam room and asked me to gown up, how are you doing, blah blah blah
  • when he came into the exam room he had me lay down on the exam table & draped me to my waist with a sheet
  • I had to put my left hand under my head while he ever so respectfully moved the left side of my gown to the side and palpated my chest / scars, etc all while chatting in a distracted way

(Ok, I found that to be SO freaking funny!! I MEAN, I HAVE NO BOOBS!! Does he REALLY need to do the draping and respectful lifting thing? Does he do that with a dude?? I dunno. I just seemed WEIRD that he’d go to all of the effort.) The other reason was so funny was because I’m SO ticklish, and I’ve got my arm up and bent with my hand behind my head and he’s probing around – Jesus it was so very hard to keep from bursting into laughter when he was doing that. Ok, back to the bullets… 

  • he switched to the other side, he palpated and I giggled 
  • he asked me to de-gown and go to his office for the obligatory post exam chat

I said to him at that point “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but what exactly is the point of these visits?”. Deadpan response “I’m looking for recurrence.” WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW? 

I had no idea. 

Obviously recurrence is a thing

I mean, wouldn’t I go to my oncologist to check for recurrence? My family doc?  I figured that the surgeon’s job was to cut out the cancer, not to identify recurrence.

But what do I know? 

So we chatted about recurrence. I recalled that at my last oncologist appointment she said that the only way to know if it’s come back is if, well, it comes back. There are no tests. (I didn’t believe that… would YOU believe that?) My surgeon attested to that. He said to watch for pain where there was no pain, shortness of breath, and lumps / bumps where there were none prior. My immediate thought? What scale of shortness of breath are you talking about?? I’m not exactly fit (as evidenced by the extreme cardiovascular challenge of walking up and down approximately 200,000 steps in my recent trip to Italy). 

There are a shit ton of steps in the Cinque Terre, Florence and Positano. Fair warning, my friends. 

But that’s another story. Back to the surgeon’s office …

I ventured to ask him “So … if it were to come back, would it go to my brain first?” NOPE. Turns out it’s the lungs or the liver. Good to know. 

Next up? 

I’m heading to see a new doc – Dr. Derek in the dirty dirty Shwa (don’t worry, that’s just where he does consults). He’s a plastic surgeon who has a golden reputation for mastectomy reconstruction. I’m very interested to meet him – not only to ask him the following questions, but to see how he’s doing since he (apparently) broke both of his wrists in a cycling accident in June. 

These are my questions for Dr. Derek:

  • what are the options for my sand dune chest? 
  • which is the least invasive? 
  • which will heal the fastest? 
  • what are the timelines for each? 
  • what have most women with a chest that looks like mine opted for? (I can’t figure out how to word that one correctly)
  • do you have any before and after pics? (before and after reconstruction, not the cycling accident… but I have been thinking about the broken wrists, I’ll be honest) 
  • who do you recommend for mastectomy tattoos?

So that’s where I’m at. How are you? And if you have any more questions for Dr. Derek, let me know. 

A Poem for Poetry Month!


really really really

yes! 

It’s time to exit 

while still fresh 

I can go

so why not 

taught loads of kids

wiped lots of snot

gained a daughter

laughed a ton

made new friends

I feel I’ve won

June 14th come and DANCE IT OUT! Meet at the McDonnel Street Activity Centre at 7pm – dance till midnight with me, Ace & the Kid and all of my cool peeps. 

WOOT WOOT

What’s Done is DONE!!

These days I’m thinking about being DONE and what it means for me to be DONE (yell a bit when I put done in caps, ok?). 

I’ll break it down a bit for you. In the next two weeks I have:

  1. a meeting with my surgeon
  2. my final Herceptin treatment
  3. my portacath removed

Each of these appointments represent a different kind of DONE (nice job) and a bit WOOT WOOT (emphasis here too, please, maybe twist your wrists in a circle).

Surgeon Visit

First of all, surgeon man is very charming WOOT WOOT, so I like to visit him, and this will be my last visit with him. Nuff said about that. Secondly, I’m planning to talk to him about plastic surgery and the hypothetical referral that I was given by someone that I cannot recall right now (I think it was he the surgeon, but could have been my family doc). Bottom line is since I don’t know who said they’d refer me, or who they said they’d refer me to, I haven’t been able to follow up, and therefore I don’t know where I’m at with the referral. This is my life. Just ask my secretarial staff. 

I digress. Why do I want a referral? Two reasons:

  1. My chest wall looks like sand dunes. I don’t need breasts, but I’d prefer tabla rasa rather than a Dali-esque distorted chest wall. Who cares, you might ask? Well, I care. When I wear clothes that cling I don’t care that I’m “flat chested / non-breasted” (the name of my imaginary post-retirement company that sells bathing suits with no cups). But I don’t want clinging tops that show the deep tracts of my scars. That just looks wrong. Troughs across my chest are not a great look. 
  2. I want to have some tatoo work done on my chest WOOT WOOT and I’m thinking that the “memories of boob” bumps could impact the design options. (But what do I know about the effects of bumps on tatoos…)
See what I mean?

So ya, I want to see a plastic surgeon. Can she (yes, she’s a she, I remember that much), … can she do something easy to flatten me out? What about the one deep sink hole? That thing is just going to look worse as the years pass, I can tell you that. 

Belly button #2 and portacath bump in upper right. Vogue material right here. 

You can see why the surgeon appointment is an important DONE for me – because it’s a done with a twist. Done with him, and on to surgeon #2. WOOT WOOT!

Final Treatment

This one is a clear DONE. My treatment regimen was 12 chemo treatments (in a row, so once/week for 12 weeks) and 18 Herceptin treatments (once every 3 weeks for a year). I had to miss one Herceptin treatment because of the heart attack, so that’s why I’m finishing 3 weeks later than prescribed. No biggie.

I’ve been counting down the treatments since the summer, each time taking the nurses the same number of treats as treatments that I have left. So it’s become a bit of a “thing” for me. I started with 13 dipped oreos, then 12 muffins …

…11 drinks. You get the idea…

I really love the nurses in the chemo suite – they’re all so welcoming, positive, gentle, nice… (even the one who I had some reservations about once – I’ve kept my eye on her). Because of the nurses, the chemo suite becomes a safe place to be when you’re in treatment. People are in various stages of feeling shitty, and the nurses treat their patients like family. It’s a nice, calm place to be, and I actually enjoy going. I know that sounds whack, but it’s true. Warm blankets, understanding and a couple of cookies go a long way. 

I can’t say that I’ll actually miss going, but it does feel kind of like the end of summer camp. I have to say goodbye. To make it easier, and to thank them for getting me through it, my good friend Annie is coming with me and bringing a whole bunch of her gorgeous charms that she makes out of recycled glass. I’m going to have each nurse choose a charm for her necklace or bracelet. I’m excited to say thank you that way. I think they’ll love Annie’s work. WOOT WOOT!

Are you surprised that we’re friends? 

Truly though, I won’t feel truly DONE till …

Portacath Removal

I get this sucker out one week after my last treatment. Take a look at this video – it gives me video envy! I have no idea how that woman got permission to video the removal of her portacath, but I’m seriously jealous!! It’s so cool to be able to see what’s being done to you. 

portacath
I am seriously looking forward to this coming out, even though I was offended that I’m not allowed to drive myself home afterwards. I mean, what’s the big deal?

Having the portacath has been a huge asset. It has been so easy for the nurses to deliver chemo and Herceptin. I have seen some of the other patients’ struggles with collapsed veins, and I’ve felt so grateful for my port. It was also super handy when I had morphine injected straight to my heart while I was passing that GD kidney stone! The relief was literally INSTANT (jazz hands here). 

Many people will tell you that cancer is a “journey”. It’s true, it is. My journey is almost DONE. It’s about fucking time.