Protected: Feelings, Plain and Simple
Protected: Best of Blog: 25 Feet up a Fir Tree
I notice that I often unconsciously place my hand on the spot where my breast used to be. It’s sort of like a breast, at least more so than right after my mastectomy. As I’ve previously mentioned, there’s a calzone-shaped tissue expander in there right under my skin. I do it so often that I’ve begun to worry that I’ll be talking to one of my patients and suddenly find that I have put my hand under my bra without even realizing it.
I have to admit, it’s a pretty good hand warmer. Since I don’t go around topless, it’s well insulated by clothing. Plus, it’s located near the nuclear reactor part of my body, where the hot flashes seem to originate. And since the skin over the expander has no sensation, it is not unpleasant to touch it with an ice cube cold hand.
But mostly, I think my hand is just doing it’s version of, “What the Hell are you? Why are you shaped like a savory turnover? Why do you feel like a Tupperware lid?” Followed repeatedly by, “Oh my goodness, are you still there? What are doing here. Are you still shaped like a turnover? Yes, you are. Do you still feel like a Tupperware lid? Why yes, you do.”
It’s kind of like the relationship between my tongue and a crown that was put on one of my teeth about five years ago. When it was first placed, my tongue was on it constantly, like it was a foreign object that didn’t belong in my mouth. I still find that without realizing, that my tongue has a little habit of checking it out, probably at least once per day. And I think my friend, Lisa was right about my cat doing the same thing when he took a nip at my right breast some weeks back. It was his way of saying, “What the Hell is that?” My cat is about as smart as my tongue so I think this is a good hypothesis.
So now I think I’m going to do an Internet search for portraits of Napolean and see if he’s wearing a little pink ribbon in any of them.
No pink ribbon but based on the hand position, I surmise that Napolean battled sagginess in addition to Waterloo.
I just lived an entire month without a surgery. When was the last month that this was true, you ask? The last surgery free month was May. Here’s a list for those of you keeping score at home.
June 27-Lumpectomy 1
July 18-Lumpectomy 2-Undiscovered Country
August 8th-Right-side Mastectomy
September 26th-Delay Procedure and tissue expander placement
October ?-Skin graft.
My next surgery? March 11th, for my TRAM reconstruction. Yay! I will make the best of my months off!
I woke this morning to the sound of heavy rain. Actually, I woke to the sound of my alarm and then the rain. I reset my alarm and tried to go back to sleep, fully preparing myself to cancel my walk today. A half hour later, I felt a little burst of energy and decided to get out and walk. The deciding factor was the lack of wind, which meant that I could bring an umbrella with me.
The first part of the walk was pretty easy. It wasn’t really raining that hard, as it turned out. Some of the storm drains were clogged so I had to jump from dry spot to dry spot to cross the streets. But that was even a little fun, like jumping from stone to stone to cross a creek. It reminded me of being a kid again.
Then the rain got heavier, a LOT heavier. But I stayed mostly warm and mostly dry and had a good walk. I took off my shoes at the door and walked into the house, leaving wet footprints with my wool socks.
I had a comforting thought during my walk. Through thick and thin, there are things I can do to take care of myself.
I also had the thought that as we head into winter, I might be wise to buy some water proof gloves and reassess my supposedly waterproof breathable Gortex light hiking shoes!
One of the things I like most about my daily walks is the reminder of how surprisingly busy the world of the outdoors is. Today, there were gulls flying overhead and little birds flying into all of the berry-laden bushes. I also recognized the sounds of a starling. Their calls are so varied and mechanical sounding as if they are wound up by hand each morning.
John had recently commented that he doesn’t know how we can have hummingbirds all year with the lack of flower nectar. I told him, “They must find something to eat or they wouldn’t stay around.” Today I found two hummingbirds flying into a couple of bushes. When I looked closely I noticed that each bush had tiny little flowers in it, thousands of them.
So much life. And I’m part of it, too.
I took a few smartphone quality pictures on my journey.
Yes, that is a chicken coop in the left back corner. Our neighbors are taking advantage of Seattle’s City Chickens program.
Now that most of the leaves are gone it’s much easier to see the grapes on these vines.
Carpet left from the wind storm last night.
Lithodora diffusa ‘Grace Ward’. This is such a handy little shrub. Although it’s not the solid blue mass of flowers it is for a couple of weeks of the summer, it keeps at least a few blooms on it all year.
Arbutus unedo. Another handy shrub that blooms and fruits constantly throughout the year. The fruits are edible though bland.
This is a beautifully written and expressed piece by Tracy, who writes FEC-THis, a blog about her experience with breast cancer. Tracy lives in Great Britain, is in her early 40’s, and has a teenaged son.
And yes, this is the same Tracy who writes thoughtful and supportive comments on my blog.
Protected: A Gift Wrapped in Fatigue and Frump
I went in to see Dr. Welk this morning so he could take a look at my skin graft. I was instructed to keep the dressing over the graft all of this time so this was an “unveiling” for me, as well. He took off the dressing and said, “Looks good.” I was relieved since I thought the color and texture did not look so good. But that’s the way it’s been all along. When I think it looks bad, the experts think it looks good and when I think I know what kind of bad-looking tissue is actually well-healing tissue, I am told, “I’ve never seen this before.”
After Dr. Welk cleaned up the area a little, I could see that it was healing. I also saw that the shape of the graft was more of a pointed ellipse than a 1 cm by 2 cm rectangle, as I had thought previously. What I was seeing before was the color and outline of a sponge that was put directly over the graft. Seeing the shape of the graft I joked to Dr. Welk, “Hey, cool that looks like a little eye ball. I could get an eye ball tattoo there.” As soon as I saw his face I said, “Kidding, kidding, kidding. Tattoos are not really my style. But I guess that is not a great joke to make in Seattle.” (For those of you in other parts of the world, tattoos and body piercings are quite the rage in these parts.)
Speaking of tattoos, I recently learned that a new business, a tattoo place, is moving into the space above the offices that I share with two other psychologists. We’ve been in our ground floor space for many years and there’s been a good deal of turnover upstairs. The last business was a day spa and before that, it was a chiropractor’s office. So, it has a lot of little rooms in it. Now the rooms will be filled with people getting inked. The teens that see us in the psychology offices will be thrilled. I am hoping they don’t blast loud music or anything. I am also hoping that there aren’t a bunch of people with scary piercings. I see preschoolers, after all. I think it will probably be just fine. My biggest fear is that a coffee shop or restaurant would move in upstairs. We would hear footsteps, the sound of the steam wand, and talking, all day long. Not to mention the impact on the parking situation. Our building is a cute house built in 1917 so it would have appeal for these kinds of businesses. Fortunately, when the chiropractor moved in, she totally remodeled the place, removing the kitchen, not to mention putting little exam/treatment rooms everywhere.
And if I ever do want to get that eye ball shaped tattoo…
Or “under cover empanada.” Or “under cover calzone.” For another option, “under cover apple turnover.” I opted for piroshky in the title because “under cover piroshky” reminded me of Boris and Natasha from the Bullwinkle and Friends cartoons.
I speak of the shape of my newly expanded breast. The primary purpose of the tissue expander is to expand tissue and to encourage new skin growth. Looking like an actual breast is secondary to this goal and now that the expander is almost totally filled with saline, I realize that it looks like an upside down filled bread product. And all but the apple turnover are made with yeast so I am getting closer to a leavened breast after all. The fold part of the empanada corresponds to the top of my breast. It curves on the ends so it is not totally horizontal. The middle of the fold, however, makes a handy shelf. I could probably balance three shot glasses there. Party! If you are in more of an afternoon partying mood, I could balance a tea cup (without saucer) or for you coffee drinkers, a couple of demitasse cups.
Just thought you’d want to know about this development. You’re welcome!
My Eyes Are Up Here 