Brassieres, Bustiers, Merry Widows, shoulder boulder holders, and other nonsense

When my grandmothers became adolescents with the attendant development of breasts the social policy was that breasts should be suppressed.  They wore a chemise that did nothing to elevate the breast.  Then they wore dresses that also constrained the breast.  Breasts were intended only as providers of food to nourish new life.

My father once told me that "decent women" did not get pregnant.  They were "in a delicate condition," or "a family way."  This is true...I mean, I couldn't even make this stuff up. My grandmothers were born on the heels of the Victorian era.  That was a time when women went into "confinement."  Confinement was the last few months of being "in a delicate condition."  You were confined to your home.  The reason for this was that it was considered indecent to be seen in public in that condition.  When you went in public it exposed people to the vulgar activity that created pregnancy.  (Not my words...words from that era).

By the time that I developed breasts in 1968 times had changed RADICALLY.  Thank heavens in many ways, no thanks in others.  The bullet bra became popular shortly before I achieved adolescence.  In case you are unaware, human female breasts are NOT pointed.  The only reason that I can imagine that a bullet bra was created was that somebody that adored German opera (with the lead woman wearing armor on her chest that had pointed breasts, and a hat with horns, thankfully the hat with horns never caught on in regular fashion).   

My sister was six years older than me.  I began my breastal years by wearing one of her hand me downs.  The bras NEVER fit.  I was embarrassed as one of the first girls in school to need a bra.  A few times somebody accidentally poked me in the boob, and the bullet bra would stay inward.  To a very shy young girl, that was mortifying!

I was grateful when I went backwards from the bullet model to a "training bra."  I don't believe that my breasts needed any training.  It seriously felt as though I went to sleep one night and woke up the next morning and lo and behold....I HAD BREASTS!  UGH!  What is a tomboy who played with all the neighborhood boys, war, tree house, kick the can...etc. etc. supposed to do with that?

In the summer there was a group of us, about seven boys, and one me.  We would play for most of the day.  We played Army, Cowboys and Indians (I preferred to be the Indian), kick the can, tree fort...etc. etc.  At dinner time we would each go home to our separate abode.  One night when I returned to the group after dinner there were seven young boys (around my age) staring at my chest.  One of them pointed an accusatory finger and said, "You wear a BRA!"

Those words rang in my ears as I ran to my home in tears.  I cried myself to sleep that night.  That was the very last time that I played with the group.  There is a country western song called, "Oh How I Wish I Were a Little Boy Again."  I respect and honor that some dear folks are born struggling with gender identity.  That is a totally different subject than I am discussing.

At eighteen I performed in summerstock theater.  The female members of the cast wore a "Merry Widow."  That is actually a long line strapless bra.  In other words, a bra/corset combo.  I have no idea where the name "Merry Widow," came from.  I'm a widow now, and trust me, it does NOT make me feel merry.

I fed our daughters with my breasts.  I remember, during this time, going to sleep a 34 B+ and waking up a 40D.  My husband looked over and said, "Good grief, the Titty Fairy came in the night!"

At thirty-four I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  I had two lumpectomies, and radiation.  The radiologists did not warn me not to wear an underwire bra.  Honestly, there is another torture device, a "push-up" bra.  We have gone from compressing our breasts to make them as invisible as possible, to an era when we force them into perky and upright positions.  I kept wearing my underwire.  That held the heat of the radiation in, which permanently burned the tissue under my breast.  I have not been able to wear a bra comfortably since.  I have tried every bra known to mankind.  Even the bras that are made for women with breast cancer hurt.

Am I going to be sorry to see my breasts go away?  Yes and no.  I have had these appendages hanging from me for FIFTY YEARS!  That's a lots of time.   I'm used to them, they are part of my anatomy.

Having said that they are part of my anatomy, the left one is now a TWO TIMER.  I've never been patient with two timing of any type. The right one has evidence of a currently benign tumor.  Benign tumors can become malignant.  So....good-bye to bras, merry widow, and cancerous breasts.  I WILL adapt!

Late Night Cancer

Night's blackness envelopes me.  The worst is that the dark seems to crawl inside me, surround me.  I have a condition called photosensitivity.  It can impact a body two different ways.  Many are familiar with the kind of photosensitivity that makes it impossible for a person to be in sunlight.  These dear souls usually sleep during the day and exist during the night.  I have two friends who live with a lighter case of this.  Both of them wear long sleeve shirts with higher collars.  It does not matter how hot it is outside, they must cover their skin. 

My type of photosensitivity is the opposite.  The darker it becomes, the higher my levels of pain increase.  I didn't trust my own experience for a long time.  Then I worked in a basement with no windows.  My pain started to creep upwards.  My constant weariness (think of being in a burlap bag and trying to live everyday life) grew in intensity.  Finally I looked at the clock....it was dark outside.  This happened on multiple occasions.  I try to prepare for my daily shift into darkness.  You can imagine that I do better when there are longer hours of sunlight.  Winter is very difficult for me with it's shorter hours of daylight.   

Of course, physical issues impact our mental outlook.  The more we learn about the brain, the more it becomes obvious that physical health, cancer, diabetes, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, lupus, lyme disease...all of these noxious conditions impact the three chemicals your brain needs to keep you feeling calm, and at peace.  Dopamine, neurepinephrine, and serotonin are the chemicals that our brain needs to function properly.  Any chronic illness impacts these chemicals, which can lead to anxiety, depression, or other serious mental conditions.

With Fibromyalgia, which I've had for almost 30 years, your body tries to protect you.  It does this by sending pain signals EVERYWHERE throughout your body.  Normally you feel localized pain.  An example of this is when you break a bone.  Your brain sends a pain signal to the area.  This is self-protection.  Your brain is telling you to take care of your leg.  With fibromyalgia pain becomes widespread.  I have even had flares caused by pain as small as a hangnail.   

During the day, it's far easier to maintain a positive outlook.  Light and bright, I can be busy and keep all fears at bay.  I'm actually not quite as light and bright since the cancer diagnosis.  That was a blow to my solar plexus.  CANCER...the BIG C...THE GRIM REAPER...it has been given multiple names.  To me it feels as though my body has betrayed me.  My left breast is now literally a TWO TIMER!  I have never cared for those, either human or breast!  "Fooled me once shame on you.  Fooled me twice shame on me!"  I should have gotten rid of that two timer 27 years ago.

I feel that my words are driven to have a safe place to rant, to vent.  At the same time, I wish to find a positive way to view this very negative experience.  Negative and positive things in life are always before us.  We don't ignore the negative.  Sometimes we need to give it some time for our brains to process the hard, the ugly. 

At the same time, we choose where we focus.  I AM NOT SAYING THIS IS EASY!  Actually this choice can be very, very, (multiple an infinite amount of very), hard.  Do we expect life to be easy?  If we have the expectation of easy, we will be rudely awakened multiple times in life. 

Gold medal Olympic athletes do not reach their skill level by sitting on the couch eating chocolate.  They exert great quantities of effort.  Daily they practice, they give hours of their life each and every day to their goal.  They keep the end result before them to make the hard choices worthwhile.

Today, I'm going to be a gold medal Olympic athlete of living with cancer.  I will lift my vision up to who I can become...even through this hard!

Roller Coaster Ride

I grew up riding on a roller coaster that was all wooden, over one hundred years old.  It was magical to me to think of all the people that had gone up, up, and upper still, and then....WHOOSH, they dropped, and so did their stomach.  The thrill of the wind racing past my face, and the rapid speed of the twists and turns took me beyond the everydayness of life.

That roller coaster has become an analogy for my life...especially right now.  This week, I felt the rush of wind going past my face as I caught my sandal on a fan cord in our house.  For a brief (too brief) moment I was flying.  AND THEN...I landed.  When you hit something hard, if you're blessed the hard parts of you do not break.  On the other hand, the soft parts of you keep moving for awhile after your landing.  This continued movement create a condition that is basically as though you have sprained your entire body.  This is especially true when you enter your 6th decade in life.

Not broken....but bent.  I have had folks with the best intentions tell me that I'm "lucky" that I didn't break a bone.  Agreed.  On the other hand, soft tissue damage can hurt much longer, and take more time to heal than a bone injury. 

It feels crappy that now, not only am I battling with breast cancer, but both of my knees are damaged.  After my double mastectomy I will have to work hard to be able to use my arms again.  In this surgery they change the arrangement of your chest muscles into your arms.  Does this sound appealing?  In the least?

I threw a wicked pity party...invited a party of one...me.  I felt good and properly sorry for the mess that I have landed in.  I gave myself a deadline...until midnight...cried, ranted and raved, and ate lots of chocolate.  I binge watched Heartland...which is a Canadian telly series that involves lots and lots of horses. 

At my deadline I truly did my best to turn my focus back around.  I do believe that we create our own reality....well to a degree.  As a writer I create multiple realities.  If the day is bleak and filled with challenge, I run away for a couple of hours.  I control the worlds of my writing.  It is a most satisfying sensation to look at the world through the eyes of my characters.

Ride that roller coaster...throw your arms up as you ride down the hill.  Rejoice in the wind that tickles and torments your hair.  Feel the rush as gravity holds you in its embrace.  There is much about movement. 

Today I Choose Happiness/Happy Not Crappy

My husband battled with all types of health challenge for the 28 years that I knew him.  He had to have a colostomy at the young age of 23, he had a kneecap removed when he was about 25, then they discovered that his lower spinal canal was far too small for his size, and the nerves around it were all malformed.  Next it was diabetes, then sarcoid, a stroke at 37...I think you get the picture.

In spite of all of this, Nyle lived with more joie de vivre than anyone else that I've ever known.  He often taught our children that our family motto was "Happy not Crappy."  That meant that it was up to us to determine that we were going to CHOOSE to be happy especially when circumstances were negative.

May I mention that while he battled all of the above battles, he finished his undergrad degree.  He worked as a producer of a feature length film, directed and acted in several music videos, and performed in plays too numerous to mention.  He was in Hamlet, he played Polonius with the professional actor Gordon Jump, and the narrator James Earl Jones. 

My honey went on to Law School.  He worked while he attended Law School.  He was on the Admissions Committee as a Student Advisor.  He maintained his status in the top 50% of his class, and graduated with a special honor called, "The Cornelius Honor Society."  This society was based on all around participation in the process of gaining a legal education.  The recipients were voted on by the student body, staff, and faculty.  It was an amazing honor, but he definitely had earned it.

Did I mention all of the physical challenges he faced during this time?  There were the days during his undergrad years that his legs would not hold him upright.  He would lie on the ground.  Using his arms he would propel himself to our car, pull himself inside and drive home.  He would repeat the same action the next day, and the next, and the next as he made his way through to his Bachelor's Degree.

He truly chose happiness.  Once he said to me, "I've decided that pain is neither bad or good, it's just a different dimension of being."  I told him, "I'm sorry.  I'm not that evolved.  I affirm your positive power, but I'm not there yet."

Breast cancer round two.  Is it possible to feel happy, content, as you battle a killing disease?  I know that it will be much harder after my double mastectomy and possible radiation or chemo to maintain a positive attitude.  To me I would rather have an ideal that I'm working towards than simply to let my emotions drive the life I live.

Thanks husband of mine for 33 years of Happy Not Crappy, and choosing happiness.  I'll do my best to live up to your inspirational attitude!