Rainy Mondays
I feel sensitive today. It is as though the sensitivity from my tumor has remained, and has found a new home in my heart.
Yet, I feel stronger. It has been over 36 hrs since I took a prescription pain medication. I did take some extra strength tylenol before bed so I knew that I would actually get some sleep, but have remained drug free all day today.
And... drum roll please... I left the house! I am a pretty informal person, but leaving the house in my pj bottoms was too much even for me. Instead I changed into some oversized linen black pants, and slipped on my trusty oversized gap men's shirt. And we left the house!
We were in search of what Dr. Maryjane calls comfortable & supportive underwear. What I ended up with is a young woman's worst nightmare but it works. In the Boston area, there is only one place to go for practical underwear designed for women who have recently had surgery-- Lady Grace. Now imagine a store front, designed in the 50's for women 'of a certain age.' The window displays are housecoats and nightgowns that don't even pretend to have any natural fibers. Inside you can find lots of old lady undergarments, discreetly boxed. But the women at Lady Grace do this well. They fit you, they jostle your breasts until they fit you into these restrainers, and they murmur.
I had forgotten that my mother had taken me to Lady Grace many years ago, 23 years to be exact. My mother finds the discussion of underwear distasteful [a trait I seem to have inherited.] At my final fitting for my wedding dress, the young girl mentioned that perhaps a bra was needed to let the dress truly shine. Well, a bra hadn't occurred to me, and if it had occurred to my Mom please see above how she feels about talking about underwear! She looked at me and uttered two words: "Lady Grace." And we were off.
In spite of the fact that Lady Grace is really about older people, and people who needs support hose, or really large skirted bathing suits, they also knew exactly what type of bra my dress needed, and had some really nice camisole/panty combos in cotton which my Mother paid for while blushing.
And here I was, 23 years later, back. And needing some of that support stuff. I don't know why, but as I began to explain what I needed to the matronly salesperson, I started to weep. Where did that come from?
I was whisked into a fitting room, and gasped "there is a mirror. I am not ready for a mirror." However, they have no rooms without mirrors, so I faced away as I took off my gap shirt. I put on and took off this gap shirt 4 times, and tried on 2 bras by MYSELF! No helping at all. I am regaining my mobility and that is a wonderful thing.
I am now the proud owner of a breast harness. This lovely bra has enough fabric to make several shirts, and reminds me of everything young women fear when going to the bathing pool with their babushkas. This is serious stuff. There is no fear that my breasts will jiggle even a little bit. They are in lock down now!
After leaving the kind women of Lady Grace, Leslie and I headed to Panera Bread for a well air conditioned lunch. I had half a smoked turkey sandwich and Leslie enjoyed a Roast Beef Asiago, and we both got large lemonades.
Why Panera Bread? Silly really, but my sister Margaret and my Mom ate at Panera Bread in LA for at least five days following Margaret's surgery and Margaret's recovery was so fast. I thought, mmmmm, maybe there is something to the Panera diet. Plus the Panera Bread store is in the same plaza as Home Depot, and Leslie needed some screws.
A quick ride home and I was totally and completely exhausted. No, I didn't want to go walking at the mall, no I didn't want to go to the fabric store to look at buttons, I just wanted to go home and crawl into my bed. I smiled as I slipped into sleep thinking MP-Marilyn is right, I should use this time to rest.
Yet, I feel stronger. It has been over 36 hrs since I took a prescription pain medication. I did take some extra strength tylenol before bed so I knew that I would actually get some sleep, but have remained drug free all day today.
And... drum roll please... I left the house! I am a pretty informal person, but leaving the house in my pj bottoms was too much even for me. Instead I changed into some oversized linen black pants, and slipped on my trusty oversized gap men's shirt. And we left the house!
We were in search of what Dr. Maryjane calls comfortable & supportive underwear. What I ended up with is a young woman's worst nightmare but it works. In the Boston area, there is only one place to go for practical underwear designed for women who have recently had surgery-- Lady Grace. Now imagine a store front, designed in the 50's for women 'of a certain age.' The window displays are housecoats and nightgowns that don't even pretend to have any natural fibers. Inside you can find lots of old lady undergarments, discreetly boxed. But the women at Lady Grace do this well. They fit you, they jostle your breasts until they fit you into these restrainers, and they murmur.
I had forgotten that my mother had taken me to Lady Grace many years ago, 23 years to be exact. My mother finds the discussion of underwear distasteful [a trait I seem to have inherited.] At my final fitting for my wedding dress, the young girl mentioned that perhaps a bra was needed to let the dress truly shine. Well, a bra hadn't occurred to me, and if it had occurred to my Mom please see above how she feels about talking about underwear! She looked at me and uttered two words: "Lady Grace." And we were off.
In spite of the fact that Lady Grace is really about older people, and people who needs support hose, or really large skirted bathing suits, they also knew exactly what type of bra my dress needed, and had some really nice camisole/panty combos in cotton which my Mother paid for while blushing.
And here I was, 23 years later, back. And needing some of that support stuff. I don't know why, but as I began to explain what I needed to the matronly salesperson, I started to weep. Where did that come from?
I was whisked into a fitting room, and gasped "there is a mirror. I am not ready for a mirror." However, they have no rooms without mirrors, so I faced away as I took off my gap shirt. I put on and took off this gap shirt 4 times, and tried on 2 bras by MYSELF! No helping at all. I am regaining my mobility and that is a wonderful thing.
I am now the proud owner of a breast harness. This lovely bra has enough fabric to make several shirts, and reminds me of everything young women fear when going to the bathing pool with their babushkas. This is serious stuff. There is no fear that my breasts will jiggle even a little bit. They are in lock down now!
After leaving the kind women of Lady Grace, Leslie and I headed to Panera Bread for a well air conditioned lunch. I had half a smoked turkey sandwich and Leslie enjoyed a Roast Beef Asiago, and we both got large lemonades.
Why Panera Bread? Silly really, but my sister Margaret and my Mom ate at Panera Bread in LA for at least five days following Margaret's surgery and Margaret's recovery was so fast. I thought, mmmmm, maybe there is something to the Panera diet. Plus the Panera Bread store is in the same plaza as Home Depot, and Leslie needed some screws.
A quick ride home and I was totally and completely exhausted. No, I didn't want to go walking at the mall, no I didn't want to go to the fabric store to look at buttons, I just wanted to go home and crawl into my bed. I smiled as I slipped into sleep thinking MP-Marilyn is right, I should use this time to rest.
posted by *susan* at
5:18 PM
3 Comments:
I have to tell you that after my exploratory abdominal surgery, when I had an incision that extended from above my belly button all the way down, the underwear thing was VITAL. I needed "granny panties", the kind that basically come up under your breasts.
I've never felt so old as the day I took the car out to the mall, parked in the handicapped spot, and still had to rest on my way into the mall. The department store that I had parked by didn't have them, so I had to rest on the benches all the way down the mall on my way to the other department store. I picked up my granny panties, then rested again several times on my way back up the mall and back to my car.
OY!
May your Panera diet bring you much good luck as you work toward health!
By
Anonymous, at 6:30 PM
Susan, I'm thinking of you...especially of those first few lines of today's entry. If my experience is anything to go by, then the pain in your heart will come and go...it is not a tumor, merely an ache, and it will subside. Allow yourself to feel it and know that you are normal and that it's part of the healing process (not my favorite part, but a part, none-the-less).
Warm hugs,
Kristina
By
Kristina, at 9:13 PM
It's most definitely normal, and I suspect may come and go. For what it's worth, I think the two things you did--Lady Grace and Panera Bread--were brilliant! Not because they were practical (which they were), but because they let you play with your memories and imagination a little. I have a notion that we need that especially in our situation: I find myself recalling things my mother said or did (she died in '92), and it's comforting.
Enough of this philosophizing! Wishing you healing for now and for good.
gr
By
The Green Cedar, at 9:45 PM
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