High Summer - February 2021

 "On days you can't stand to look at your own reflection, remember all of the things your body has allowed you to do and all the places it has taken you to. It may be scarred, it may be tired, it may be old... but you are so lucky to be in it."

    ~Ruby Jones

Kia ora whānau. I'm writing February's episode in early March but I won't tell if you don't. During February I was wondering why I enjoy writing this blog so much and I decided it came down to these elements:

• Attention and praise - I love it, keep it coming :)
• I can send people the link so they can read my story rather than me having to tell it over and over
• It allows me to take the role of the observer

Taking the role of the observer is an idea I've come across in various yoga and meditation classes over the years. I understand it to mean taking a step back, out of the whirligig of my feelings and thoughts and being able to think "I see there is fear there" rather than "I'm frightened". It means I can separate myself from the muck of it all, and it helps. Writing the blog helps me sort through the events and also my reactions to those events. It enables me to make sense of something so senseless, and knowing that you're reading along makes me feel so good too. Thank you for being here with me.

Craft

February was a rollercoaster of a month, and once again my crafting took a hit. However, I finished my blue and white jumper (I love it!) and I've got some very special yarn and pompoms on the way from the States to make Lotus Flower Beanies for my soon-to-be baldy head. I feel - lucky isn't the right word - relieved that I'll be doing chemo in the colder months and can wear soft woolly hats rather than wigs on most days.

I'm also trying to get some hats finished for my partner by using up stash yarn - I've got a box full now and am at capacity for storage in this wee cottage. I wasn't sure if the repetitive motion of knitting was good while I was healing and now it's just too hot to knit - I'm not a warm-weather knitter at all - so the hats have languished for a few weeks while sea-swimming and beach walks take centre-stage.

I finally sat at my desk and made two polymer clay pieces to sell at the Christmas market. I love them a great deal but was gutted to learn that polymer clay is probably not as "non-toxic" as the labels claim. I've been aware that as it is a plastic it's not the long-term direction I'd like to take and I had worked out a plan to spend this year using clay to find my aesthetic and then doing more lessons next year to transition to metal-smithing. Obviously, all my plans for 2021 have been gleefully shredded by the cancer pixies, but this news has been an extra blow.

I love polymer clay as it's easy to source and use, requires no special equipment (although my overflowing desk belies that!), and can be used with a variety of other materials (crystals, wood, metal etc.). I don't currently work with polymer clay terribly much as my motivation has been so low, but I'd like to have at least a day a week where I'm making a half dozen pieces.

So to minimise risk I've purchased an old benchtop oven off TradeMe so I'm not baking the clay in the same place we bake our food. I'll set that up in the caravan so I'm baking clay away from our living and sleeping area, and I can have the windows all open for ventilation. I'll still make the pieces in the cottage, and take them out for baking. I'll use gloves when I'm conditioning (warming up) the clay as it does stick to my hands then. I've also purchased a second-hand pasta machine which I can use to condition the clay with far less skin contact. I don't think I'll be able to sculpt with gloves on but I'll give it a go.

Looking to the future I'm not sure if I'll be able to do much metal work at home as the setup costs are fairly high, and require space that we don't have. I can rent gear and space in a workshop, and hopefully there will be something near home so I don't have to go into the city. The other option I thought about was wire wrapping as that doesn't require heating or soldering, so that's something to consider. However, for now I'll carry on as planned, but at a slower pace and with modifications. Which kind of sums up my entire life at the moment.

Season

Summer finally arrived, for the last half of February at least! We love living where we do, but we sometimes lament the lack of consistent summer weather. Having said that, in mid-February we visited the Wairarapa and the 30-degree temperatures laid us both out - we aren't built for heat and were pretty happy to return to the coast! I have no idea how anyone functions without aircon in that heat - they breed 'em tough over the hill. But we are making the most of the warm weather with daily trips to the beach and swims - all my scars have sealed up nicely, so I assume the salt water is helping. Just being by the sea helps, even when I'm not swimming.

Sometimes the light is so magical

This is the time of year where daily I exclaim "ooo it's dark" when I open the blinds around 6 am. Every. Damn. Morning. I'm sure it must be annoying for my partner so I'm trying not to do that this year and it's taking Herculean effort on my part. I'm going ok but I tend to say "I'm not going to say it!" which probably isn't a lot better, but it's a solid first step. I've not marked the changing of the seasons or the moon cycle much lately, but with my recent return to early-ish morning walks and running I'm becoming aware of our seasonal shift towards autumn.

I'm a fan of autumn - all the seasons have their joys - but I love the leaf colours and the burgeoning requirement for scarves and woolly jumpers. I enjoy preparing the cottage for the impending chill, and find things like firewood stacks and boxes of gathered pinecones make me feel safe and cosy. It's only day 3 of autumn so far, and I don't want to wish away this lovely warm weather, but I'm always glad to see the golden tones of the season arrive.

The "wood kennels" I'm inordinately proud of

I'd like to knit more jumpers but as noted I'm on a stash-busting and hat-making mission right now, plus we have officially run out of wardrobe and drawer space. My latest jumper's only home is the stool at the end of the bed as there is literally no room anywhere else. Today I'm ordering 2 kitset wardrobes, so I expect we'll need couples counselling at the end of that, but hopefully I'll have a bit of extra space for squishy woolly jumpers!

Health

My previous blog mentioned that a mastectomy is the next step on this breast cancer path. Since then we've met with two surgeons and plans have changed - we are switching the order and I'll have chemo next, then radio, then surgery. Cancer is a strange force indeed where I felt such huge relief at the thought of surgery being delayed by chemo. I felt relieved to be having CHEMO. So weird.

I've cried considerably less since the last episode, but it was good for my soul to have the Week of Tears I'm sure. After the mastectomy phonecall my thoughts took the following route:

• Thursday - despair: "I will never get over this"
• Friday - pragmatism: "it just has to be done"
• Saturday - planning tattoos
• Sunday - realising that actually I’m NOT nude most of the time so only my partner and I will ever see me bra-less
• Monday - a glimmer of acceptance whilst washing dishes: "I can wash dishes with only one boob, I can drive a car with only one boob... there’s nothing I can’t do with only one boob"
• Tuesday - more tattoo planning
• Wednesday - met with surgeons "ok there's a lot of information to process, but lefty can stick around for a while HURRAH!"

 Since then I seem to have settled into a strangely joyful existence. I'm not dwelling on the past as that seems irrelevant now, and I'm not looking too far ahead as it's scary, so I'm finally living "in the moment" as all the books and gurus and inspiring memes tell us to do. I knew intellectually that it was a good thing to do but I could never seem to shut off the incessant rehashing of the past and obsessive planning for the future. It's such a relief to have some peace at last.

So there is a combination of that, the good weather, and the simple appreciation of all the things I couldn't do before - driving! swimming! running! putting on my undies normally instead of the awkward sideways-kick method my giant fibroid foisted upon me! After months of discomfort followed by all the surgeries it feels great to feel great, and most days I can slip into a warm bubble of ignorant bliss. I know there is a long hard road ahead of me (all the doctors and nurses keep telling me so), but for now, for March, for today, for right this moment - I'm happy and content with my lot and look the sun is out and Lulu is showing us her belly and I think I'll go for a walk and doesn't the wood look nice all stacked up. More tea?

Mostly I think I'm relieved that I don't have to immediately make the massive decision about surgical reconstruction - or not - of my breast. I was steeling myself for another operation this week, and I'd have handled it - with support - but bloody hell I'm stoked I don't have to do that until much later this year. Chemo will be a challenge, but my fear of temporarily losing my hair feels much easier since learning I will be permanently losing a breast. And I hope I can make being bald kind of fun, whereas I'm struggling to find the humour in one erased breast. So right now I'm staying positive about chemo. Planning for the side affects but trying to find the good bits, few though they are.

The quote I opened with resonated with me when I found it during one of my many struggles with whether to stay flat or do a reconstruction. It's hard not to feel let down by my body and I'm terrified of looking at it in horror, so I'm trying to detach from the purely cosmetic and appreciate it on other levels. Easy to say but hard to do. As women we are conditioned by knowing our worth is tied to our physical attractiveness, and I've internalised that far more strongly than I realised. I'm also waaaaay more attached to my boobies than I thought. In all senses of the word.

So I'm on a fact-finding mission at the moment to learn all I can about mastectomy and reconstruction. An acquaintance listened to me going through all the options for reconstruction and asked "which of these is cosmetic?"... "well, they all are, except staying flat, as I'm not planning on breast-feeding any babies"... "oh then that's easy, there's your answer" he said. Yeah... easy. Riiight. Except it's really really not at all easy to consider whether reconstructing a "cosmetic" amputated body part is worth the extra physical risk when weighed up against the mental anguish of not doing it. I wildly bounce between wanting to minimise risk and not wanting to wake up flat. Not easy. At all.

It feels like an impossible choice right now, so I'm glad of these days and weeks where I don't have to actually make a decision. I know it's a fool's gold of a golden time, but if it helps me be a calm and joyful fool then, for now, I'll take it. Thank you for reading along, and I hope your March is also warm and joyful and free from huge hard decisions. See you back here for the next episode where I will be exploring some complementary therapies and hopefully getting my craft on.

References

• Ruby Jones quote from the book 'All Of This Is For You: a little book of kindness'
• Lotus Flower Beanies by BKnits - her website has wonderful kits, yarn, and pompoms for sale. While I usually try and support local, small-batch dyers, I absolutely fell in love with the Lotus hat with that specific yarn that I couldn't find a local match for. If you know of any please tell me!
• Polymer clay is the stuff you might have played with as a kid - coloured clay you can sculpt and then bake to rock-hard. Fimo and Sculpey are two well-known brands. It's used a lot for home-based jewellery-making and is brilliant for that. However, from an environmental point of view it's a PVC-based plastic, and from a health point of view it might be related to various health issues.
• I've found the NZ Breast Cancer Foundation website really good for relevant NZ information. Please note that while reconstruction is available on the public health system, due to long waiting lists for surgery, delayed reconstruction may not be viable for you. Talk to your doctors to find out the situation in your local area.