A Conversation With My Breasts

You were late showing up.

And now you’re leaving the party early.

In keeping in tune

with my Leo personality,

You are quite whimsical, aren’t you?

Because this change came out of nowhere! 

From the time of my birth, 

I’ve ridden the wave of life, 

Successfully, I like to think. 

Through childhood and adult abandonment, 

Through spinal meningitis at age 7.

Through being kidnapped.

Through being hit by a car. 

Through being run over by a tractor.

Through sexual and physical and emotional abuse.

Through an airplane crash that killed my father and beloved brother.

Through cheating husbands and divorce,

Through loss of job and through struggle,

Through all this,

I’ve taken the lemons I’ve been given

And made a lemonade 

That would make anyone’s mouth water.

Life has been GOOD! 

And now you hand me this huge sack of lemons 

And ask me to make lemonade,

Again. 

Well, it’s gonna be difficult, 

But I’m going to give it my best shot! 

Oh you beauties, 

I have such wonderful memories of us!

You and I!

Our life together!

You showed up late, as I said earlier.

My younger cousin, Janie,

Touted a bra at 8.

I was so jealous I could have screamed.

She called me "honey" and "sweetie,"

and I felt lesser.

She flaunted it and made me hate her;

She shouldn't have gotten breasts before me!

I think I was around 11 when I noticed the

Two tender buds swelling from my chest.

And from the time you first blossomed,

I loved you dearly.

Then I began to share you.

The first to adore you was a boy named Dave,

(Or was it Wayne?)

In a haystack in the barn,

(Or was it in the backseat of a bright yellow Chevy?)

After a half century, the details run together, but,

Wherever it was,

I remember being exhilarated! 

Electrified!

Whoah! 

This was a GOOD thing! 

You rocked my world! 

It was the beginning of a long and wonderful life

 Together. 

You and I. 

You and I. 

You and I. 

Us.

You brought me the most extreme pleasure.

I loved looking at you in the mirror.

Two beautiful mounds, growing each year,

Until you settled into a comfortable 34-B cup.

Then came pregnancy. 

Holy Hell! 

You GREW! 

You SWELLED to a giant 40-D 

You were HARD and ANGRY and full of milk 

Ready to feed a hungry child. 

That was the only time you caused me pain. 

And it was only for a day or two, 

Until we settled into a feeding schedule, 

But dang, that was crazy!

I remember

Those days,

The feeling of my milk “coming down.”

There’s nothing like it.

A tingle that begins high in the chest,

Then sparkles down to the nipples,

And causes milk to spurt out 

Unexpected and uninvited. 

A time of wet blouses,

Laughter,

Joy.

I remember nursing my children.

You did such a great job!

There has been nothing sweeter than gazing 

Down at the face

Of my sweet newborn babies

As they tugged hungrily at you.

You provided life,

Food, for a brand new being.

It blew my mind.

Three times I was given this pleasure. 

Three sons took sustenance from my body, 

I was only able to do it because of you. 

YOU did that. 

Years passed and we had a wonderful life together! 

I remember other fun times with you. 

Sexy tops with plunging necklines. 

Bikinis and crop tops. 

Topless sun bathing in the beautiful Caribbean

and in the hot tubs of Bakersfield. 

Loving caresses from husbands and lovers. 

The delight you have given me 

Has been indescribable. 

Beyond anything I could ever dream of. 

I just want to thank you so much

For all the joy, pleasure, and life we have shared.

We have been quite a team!

You have been remarkable!

You never aged.

You never sagged or changed.

You stayed beautiful and plump and sensitive.

And I have loved you so much.

I still love you.

And then, out of nowhere, 

On Christmas 2019, 

You gave me a gift that wasn’t on my list. 

Laying in bed, a cold night, 

I ran my hands up the left side of my body and felt 

Something that shouldn’t be there. 

A lump. 

A LUMP! 

A lump? 

WTF? 

What WAS that? 

A bit of panic. 

Doctor appointment. 

Mammogram. 

Ultrasound. 

Biopsy. 

Diagnosis. 

Papillary Invasive Carcinoma. 

Double mastectomy. 

First “What?” 

Then "Really?" 

Then "Where the hell did THAT come from?" 

I eat clean. 

I exercise. 

I don’t smoke or drink or do drugs. 

Then “Why?” 

Then "What caused it?" 

Did I bump myself in the bad fall I took 

Two years ago?

Could this be something I manifested

From the deep sorrow of being abandoned by people 

I poured my soul out to,

People I nurtured and taught and loved so deeply,

Who turned on me like wolves,

Who lied about me,

Who twisted my motives,

Then walked away and broke my heart?

Did it grow from the deep pain in my breast I felt 

When this disloyalty reared its ugly head, 

Knocking me to my knees in painful disbelief? 

Or did I create this myself? 

Do this myself? 

To myself? 

To you? 

Or could it be a result of the chemical-laden environment we live in. 

The airplanes spraying the sky, 

The autos spewing their filth into the air,

The poisoned water and food,

The fragranced laundry products I can’t escape from.

There’s just no way of knowing.

Nobody to blame.

Not even myself.

It just “is.” 

Well, no use crying over spilt milk, as they say. 

Bootstraps, it’s time! 

Let’s take these fucking lemons 

And make some lemonade! 

Yes, I’ll miss you two more than you’ll ever know. 

Mostly I’ll miss the pleasure you give me. 

I look down at you, and you still look perfect. 

You are beautiful! 

I heft you in my two hands and squeeze you, 

And you still FEEL perfect. 

I run my fingers over your nipples, 

And you still respond, like magic. 

And THAT electrifying feeling 

is what I’ll miss most.

That part makes me very sad.

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in the Twilight Zone.

But no staying sad.

Yes, I’ll miss you. 

But I’d miss this wonderful life more!

Doc said 50% chance of a recurrence 

With just a lumpectomy or single mastectomy, 

And only 1%-3% with a double mastectomy. 

Well, the “double” it is. 

Onward and forward.

No more looking back.

And now, here we are, 

Coronavirus pandemic looming,

Nine days and counting.

I’ve ordered plaster cast material.

I’m going to make a cast of you,

Paint it, and hang it on my wall

In memory

Of you.

I’ll make it bright and perky and colorful, 

Like you have been. 

In this way, you can continue to give pleasure, 

To me as well as to others,

Just in a different way.

Oh, you two wonderful old friends.

You whimsical, bouncy, bubbly old friends!

We've spent 67 wonderful years together!

And now, you’ve thrown me for a loop.

I surely wasn’t ready for this.

But the time is nearly here

For you to take your leave forever. 

Nine days and counting. 

I’m going to miss you. 

I’m going to miss you. 

I’m going to miss you! 

Love Forever, 

Annie

My Double Mastectomy Surgery is "On" and Things . . .

I got an email from my surgical nurse yesterday.

My double mastectomy surgery, originally scheduled for April 23, is "on."

I will spend one night in the hospital then come to my youngest son's home to recover. The original plan was to go to my elder son's home, as he is a surgical nurse. But since the outbreak of the virus, surgeries at his hospital have dried up and he has been moved into another department and we are afraid of being exposed. So my youngest son's home is the safest place.

I've been chatting with other women who have had double mastectomies and I've been collecting "things" I'll need for this surgery. 

Mastectomy Pillows for sleeping and riding in the car - to protect the incision site

These are "drain" holders - I'll have at least one, and maybe two drains attached to my body for a couple of weeks. These will hold those and keep them from swinging around.

This holds my drains when I shower.

A bidet sprayer which attaches to the toilet. 

A hot/cold bottle with a straw so I can drink while lying down

A "wedge" to sleep on for a few weeks to keep my upper body in a semi-sitting position.

I also have a couple of post surgery camisoles that were gifted me by Providence Breast Clinic. These zip up the front so I can easily get into them. They have detachable pockets inside to hold the drains. 

In addition, they have pockets to insert my "Knitted Knockers" prosthesis when and if I'm ready. The Knitted Knockers were made by volunteers and are gifted free of charge to mastectomy patients. A gift of love, they come in all colors and sizes. You can order them with or without nipples, and you can order special water-friendly ones to be used in your swimsuit.

If you know anyone undergoing breast cancer and chemo or mastectomy surgery, there are several very supportive Facebook groups I belong to.

One is simply called Mastectomy Support Group and is a closed group.  It's a good place to hear other women's stories and to ask advice or just vent and get support.

The other group I belong to is called "Flat and Fabulous."  I've joined this group because I have decided NOT to have any reconstructive surgery. There are two of these; one for after you've had your surgery where the "C" word is NOT discussed and one where you can discuss your cancer and/or treatments.  Both are filled with very supportive women. 

So, despite Mr. Covid, my surgery is on.

Thank you all so very much for your support. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers for a positive outcome and for protection from the virus. 

You are ALL in MY prayers during this crazy time!
Love,
Annie

We Are Home and My Thoughts . . .

Joe was prepared with a mask

Well, 
Joe and I are feeling lucky
to be home from Spain,
and safe, after our very short Camino!

In late February, we thought, like many, 

that this Coronavirus news 

was being blown way out of proportion

 and would soon blow over. 

So we chose to leave on March 4, 

expecting to walk in Spain for 6 weeks.

The first 7 days were awesome.

Normal.

People in Spain didn't seem to be concerned at all about the virus.

By March 8 we had made it to Merida 

and spent 3 wonderful days there.

We saw no concern.

No masks.

No panic.

On March 11 we walked to Aljucin.

We checked into the albergue there and rested.

Still no concern.

UNTIL we found out that the albergue
in the next village, Alcuescar, was closed.
Not because they had cases of the virus,
but because they cared for 
people with compromised immune systems
there, and didn't want other people
bringing in the virus.

Because of this, 
we took a taxi to Alcuescar next morning,
March 12,
and walked to Aldea de Cano.
There, all seemed well.
Nobody was wearing masks.
Nobody seemed concerned. 

However, that evening, in the bar, 

I was reading notices on the Camino forum 

that things were getting worse 

all over the world,

and that travel bans were beginning to take place. 

I was beginning to get a nervous feeling in my gut and I told Joe, 

"Maybe we should think about HOW 

we would get home if we were forced to leave 

in a hurry. 

Should we walk on tomorrow?"

We decided to wait until morning, 

and to sleep on it.

There were several other pilgrims
in the albergue that night.
None seemed to be concerned.

On Friday, March 13, 
we got up and had breakfast 

in the albergue 

and waited for the bar to open.

When it opened, we got online 

and there we saw the warning from Ivar 

and the moderators about not starting a Camino, 

and about getting yourself home 

if you were ON the Camino.

We quickly decided we'd better 

try to get home.

What was sad to me 

was how the demeanor of the bar owners changed, literally, overnight.

I was ignored at the bar. 

I had to follow the lady up and down the bar

 to get a coffee.

It never happened.

She would look right through me 

as though I did not exist,

and go to a local person.

There were maybe 7 locals there.

My phone was not working. 

Joe's phone was nearly dead, 

and so we asked her if she would help 

and call us a taxi.

She ignored us.

I asked another lady sitting at the bar, 

and after 3 requests from HER, 

the bar lady went and got a flyer 

with a taxi number on it and shoved it at me. 

She would not make the call.

It was so weird.

She had been so friendly the day before.
I'm sure she was just scared out of her wits,
wondering why these pilgrims
were walking through Spain,
possibly spreading this virus,
that we still didn't know much about.

We managed to get a call through on Joe's phone, 

and hired a taxi to Caceres, 

where we caught a bus to Madrid.

In the meantime, I "Signaled" my son 
back in Oregon, and asked him to search 
for a flight 

from Madrid to Los Angeles.

Several airlines were price gouging
asking $2000-$3000 for one-way seats! 

British Air, American Airlines, IberiaAir 

were all charging THOUSANDS of dollars 

for a one way flight home!

They had a few flights listed in the $400-$500 range, but when you chose them, 

they would tack on many charges.

It was crazy.

We were lucky that my son travels constantly 

and was able to get seats for us 

from Madrid to Miami then LAX 

on one of the last available flights out. 

He had to try for a long time. 

Flights were disappearing off the boards 

and being canceled as he worked. 

It was pretty stressful.

We met one man who paid $10,000 

for a flight home to Australia. 

TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS! 

This should be illegal 

and I hope airlines that do this 

will get horrendous fines, 

but right now, it's just the way it is.

The Madrid airport was like a tomb. 

The only flights were flights coming IN 

with Spanish residents.

We arrived early afternoon at the airport 

and our flight was not to leave until the next day.

We waited at the airport for over 14 hours 

for our fight.

We found a closed restaurant 

and sat at a table 

where we were able to charge our phones.

We were working at this point 

on being awake over 24 hours.

We prayed the flight wouldn't be canceled.

On the way to board, 

we were herded to a desk 

where they interviewed Joe (not me.)

They asked Joe his name, 

what he did for a living, his address, 

questions that didn't seem to make any sense 

under these current conditions.

We finally boarded.

About 1/3 of the seats were empty.

Many people were now wearing masks.

Some, mostly young people, were obviously sick, coughing, and NOT wearing masks, 

which upset me very much.

Joe and I had taken masks with us, 

so we were able to mask up.

This flight was pretty good.

They served us food and drinks many times 

and were very kind.

When we arrived in Miami, 

it was announced that we would be screened 

upon arrival.

We were only allowed to un-board 

20 passengers at a time.

We were met by officials who were friendly, 

but sorely lacking in logical training

in my opinion.

For instance, the same gloves were used

for every person,

spreading this virus, in my opinion,

if anyone DID have it.

Since Joe and I were traveling together, 

they only interviewed him.

I thought that was bizarre 

since I was the one coughing 

from my MCS and exposure to perfume 

on the flight.

They asked his name, address, 

and if he'd had contact with anyone with the virus.

They took his temperature.

Then we had to go through customs.

Unlike usual, when we do NOT have to go back through security on connecting flights, 

we DID have to go back through.

We were separated because I have TSA pre-boarding, and he does not.

Even with TSA pre-boarding, 

I had to remove items I don't usually have to remove and it was really stressful and confusing.

And there again 

were those gloves,

doing pat downs on one passenger,

and then the next without changing.

Crazy.

After getting through security, 
and finding Joe again, 

we were rushing to find our connecting flight 

in the huge Miami airport 

when I realized I had left my jacket 

and eyeglasses at security.

Joe went ahead. 

I went back and after a search, found my things.

It was crazy, and very stressful.

The gate we were leaving from 

seemed like miles away 

and I arrived just as Joe was boarding.

Our flight from Miami to LAX began
fairly empty.
At the last moment,
it was filled, 

according to the stewardess, 

with people from all over the world 

who were on a cruise ship that came into Miami 

and unloaded clients. 

Nearly all of them seemed stressed 

and just trying to GET HOME. 

It was horrible. 

Children and babies were crying.

It was hot. 

There was no food served 

unless you paid for it.

Seems like under the conditions,

the airlines could have done a lot better!

I don't know where they found that plane, 

but it was nasty dirty 

(literally there were chunks of "stuff" on the floor), 

the trays had spilled coffee on them 

and it was NOT the best experience I have had. 

We had run out of Clorox wipes 

so did our best to wipe things down with baby wipes.

 They sat an old couple right behind us 

from the cruise ship. 

The old guy leaned all over Joe's seat 

while getting to his own, 

and at this point, our nerves were pretty shot. 

We had bulkhead seats - two abreast - 

and the seats behind us were in rows of 3, 

so there was a big open space between me 

and the woman. 

Once they sat down, the man coughed 

all through the flight, 

that dry scary cough you are told to worry about. 

The woman sneezed about 5 times 

without covering her mouth,

and scared the poop out of me. 

I had my head covered with a blanket 

because I was so paranoid. 

By the time we got to LAX 

we had been awake nearly 2 days 

and were both punchy.

After getting off the plane, 

I immediately found a bathroom 

where I soaped up my hands, face, 

and arms and washed the best I could.

Joe had thought ahead 

and had the smarts to reserve a car from Madrid, 

so we were able to jump on a shuttle, 

get a rental car, 

and get on the freeway pretty quickly.

There were big creepy lighted signs 

on the freeway saying:

"COVID-19. 

"LESS IS MORE. 

AVOID LARGE GROUPS"

Whoah!

Nothing has felt so life-changing 

in such a short time since 9-11, for me.
I have an elderly mother in California
that I could not see for 14 days,
and a double mastectomy scheduled 
at home in Oregon in a month,
and I was worried they'll close the borders
between the states.
Then what would I do?

Life as we knew it two weeks ago

has changed, 

and feels like it will never be the same.

And it only took about 3 days 

to go from "Happy on my Camino" 

to 

"Go home. 

"Don't talk to anyone. 

"Don't meet in groups 

where you can discuss what's going on. 

"Don't go shopping. 

"Stay in your house."

The next morning,
as we watched the news,
we realized how lucky we had been.
We saw hundreds of people
jammed together into small rooms
in Chicago O'Hare.
If there was ever a good way to spread the virus,
that was it.
In addition,
they were complaining of wait times
up to 6 hours.
We got through in less than an hour.

And so,

Joe and I both did our14 day self-quarantine 
as instructed.
I packed up the van,
stopped by to wave at my mother,
then headed to Oregon
so I could be here for my surgery.
Since then, things have worsened considerably,
and though I haven't had news that my surgery is postponed or cancelled,
I'm considering postponing it
until the worst of the virus wave is over.
I'm just not too comfortable 
spending time in the hospital,
with all of the active cases of Corona
in Oregon.to wrap my head around the past 11 days. 

I am praying this all blows over
sooner than expected, 

that no more people die, 

and that the Camino can get back to normal soon.

In the meantime, I'm just happy to be back on familiar, 

though bizarre, 

soil.

What an adventure life is!
And sometimes it leaves you with scabby knees.
I'm feeling the burn.

Love,

Annie

Merida - Day 5 - Basilica of Sta. Eulalia

Today we headed to the Basilica of Santa Eulalia. There is a crypt there.  On top of the crypt was built a Roman Villa. Then on top of that was built the Basilica and you can view all the different layers. The combination €7,50 ticket covers the crypt. The church is an extra €2 but to us was very much worth it to see the inside. That small contribution helps with the upkeep. Here are a few photos.

Painted  mausoleum 

Jesus’ feet are black from the devoted touching and kissing them. 

The beauty of the statues blow my mind. 

Santiago!

We saw many people, young and old, stop at this street shrine to pray

Merida Day 4 - Alcazaba

On the way to the Alcazaba we stopped at my favorite Pollo Asada place called EL PALACIO DEL POLLO for a whole spit roasted chicken.

Soon we found the Alcazaba and spent a good hour exploring.