Saturday, September 18, 2004


The C Word

No, not that one, although I use it considerably more often than my mother would approve of.

No, not at all. The word I'm talking about is even worse, and one that people are even less likely to mention in polite company. That word is cancer.

Now, before anyone freaks out and starts thinking I'm writing my own obituary here, no, this post isn't about me. Well the intro is, but shut up, just read it, ok?

I had a scare earlier this year and had to go for all sorts of fun stuff -- mammograms, ultrasounds, and a core biopsy (which is sort of like taking a geological sample and caused me to swell up a full cup size for several weeks, so I'd be avoiding that one if I were you). Truly, most of it wasn't so bad and I haven't had that much boob action in years; I usually have to buy someone a couple of drinks before that sort of attention is paid. But I digress.

My testing turned out happily. It seems what I have is a "breast mouse". I was going to put a link here but really, the pictures are gross. Trust me to have something painful and ugly but with a stupid cute name so everyone thinks I've got a pet rather than a growth half the size of a golf ball in my left boob. And yes, I have to have the lump removed eventually but I'm going to wait until I can't take the pain any more, 'cause I sort of like the way they look now.

Please pause and applaud here, as despite my threats in my first or second post, I have still managed to restrain myself from posting hooter pictures.

But I digress.

As I said, this post (which contains knitting content!) isn't about me. It's about my friend. Let's call her Kathleen, seeing that's the name her mother chose.

She also had a scare earlier this year, with considerably less cheerful results. Malignant isn't a word anyone wants to hear, however they whipped her quickly into hospital, removed an unfortunately large portion (1/3 or more) of one of her breasts and sent her home with a heck of a lot of hope. The best thing, however, that she came home with is an incredible attitude. This lady isn't going to sit down and shut up and pretend this is in some way shameful. She's speaking up, shouting out, and hiding nothing.

And I love her for it.

So, being the slightly-madcap person that I am, I told her one night on IRC that I was going to knit her a falsie. She thought this was completely hilarious and demanded instantly that I do so. That's the "Crafting for Evil" project that I've been working on. I started putting this together at work tonight, having done the majority of the knitting, and part-way through the funniest thing happened. This started being a labour of love instead of something hilarious. I mean it always ~was~ a labour of love. It just stopped being so funny.

I have no idea why I find this stupid knitted boob so touching. It's not even a really good boob, although it's a lot better than the ones over at or the ones at I'm not linking 'cause I'm not being very nice about them, but go and have a look ... you know you want to. I'm quite sure that those boobs aren't going to make anyone, woman or child, clue in to the mechanics of breast feeding any more quickly. That usually requires a mom with milk and a hungry baby to work out with any degree of success.

The colours of my "Boobie Prize" are unrealistic (the pink isn't quite as in the picture but you get the idea) and the shape isn't right either. The workmanship's pretty solid, though, and I'm quite pleased with both the spiral construction and the consistency of the stitching in the I-cord. What I didn't get was why I teared up a couple of times while doing the finishing work on the graveyard shift tonight.

I'm thinking I'm going to blame lack of sleep (or the hour in the dentist chair that started out my day).

Anyhow, if any of you out there haven't done a self-exam in the last little while, please do, so I don't have to knit one of these for you also. My heart can only take so much. Go, run, hop into the shower and play with your boobs for a bit. And then post about it.

And if the knitted boob doesn't scare you into it, stay tuned for the chemo cap with the pansies all over it. That should be up in a week or two.

Your mouse may just shrink and go away by itself.Mine did.
Best wishes to your friend.She'll love her knitted boobie ! :0)

Emma. []
I've had mine for 30 years and it's getting bigger and more painful. They say that surgery's the only answer. I can live with that, just not yet. I wanna stay pretty a little longer and there's no chance of it "turning" on me so there's no rush :)
The knitted boob is the best. My sister in law had a double mastectomy on Thursday (3 days ago). She's only 28 years old. She's also doing great and has a great attitude. I heard Michael J. Fox say (of his diagnosis with Parkinson's), "Well, this isn't going to be boring." I thought it was just the best attitude I'd ever heard.
Oh man, that's so hard. I'm sorry, SJ. I'll keep you in my thoughts.
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