As a young teenager I never gave any thought further that the next weekend.
The years I spent raising children, well those days are foggy. I fear the recollections I have of motherhood conflict with what my kids might say about me.
Yet here we are in the pasts future the present as it is known. I am on my new venture, doing what I do best.... talk (write). For the most part I can capture an audience when I speak but that is because I have a British accent and you can say just about anything with a British accent and sound interesting. I am not so sure this will translate as well in a blog but here goes.......
Allow me to introduce myself;
My name is Jane Kay Cisneros, wife, mother, grandmother, a medical professional for over thirty years and I am a Breast Cancer Survivor.
I was diagnosed June 2010, had a mastectomy, chemo and went through reconstruction surgery and wrote a book. I hope I am not coming across as an overachiever, far from it.
My book Bald Sweaty Bitch with one tit, a memoir of a pink ribbon journey, has received five star reviews available www.janekaycisneros.com, Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble .com. I have done many speaking engagements with survivor groups, women's network and business organizations and medical schools. Again I do think this has mostly to do with how I deliver the message.
All kidding aside my objective is to help others go through some of the toughest challenges they will ever experience either as a cancer patient, survivor or caregiver. I will offer tips and candid comments on my own experiences through the Cancer diagnosis, chemo and the reconstruction process. Also share resources that can help offset the high costs of medications and other physical and mental needs for those that have just been diagnosed to those that are long time survivors. Guest writers from the Medical and Dental community, experts in appearance changes and tips to help you feel better about yourself.
Wont you come along for the ride? It's bound to be full of warm and fuzzy moments followed by a good dose of humor and who knows you might learn something.....I am sure I will.
Always your breast friend,
Janie Kay
PINK LEMONADE
The sequel to “Bald sweaty bitch with one tit”.
Surviving Cancer is a whole new journey, not only are you now a role model for those just diagnosed you are also expected to bounce back to normal right away. Your done with your treatments and your hair is growing back, friends and family want you back as you were before, but that doesn’t happen. You are forever changed.
I was diagnosed in June 2010 with stage II invasive breast cancer. I jumped through all the hoops to rid myself of this debilitating disease. I had my right breast removed along with eleven lymph nodes, went through a very intense eighteen week chemotherapy treatment and I am now on hormonal therapy for the next five years. I elected to have breast reconstruction this is where the second half of my breast cancer journey begins…
“Education is the key to quality care”, I have said it before and believe it or not, this quote is not exclusively mine. Except, my education has continued way past my treatment decisions, it’s like, if I knew then what I know now I might have done things differently.
It was the mid 80’s I had yet to find my career niche, a variety of jobs all involving customer service very little in manual labor. I was still young in my early twenties and was rocking a very cute body and a very respectable pair of knockers. I began working at a major lingerie manufacturer , in their returns department. I had a cubicle, desk, computer and telephone not much time for socializing with my coworkers. My job involved shipping and receiving working closely with the warehouse manager and retail department stores, accepting returns and tracking shipments. The design department was at the other end of the building and sometimes a designer would walk around looking for a “fit model for a newly designed bra”, this was a very coveted position, you had to wear the bra for a couple of days, report back on the fit and comfort to the design team, after they would document your review you were able to keep the sample bra if you wished. With my past history growing up loving bras and wanting bigger boobs I really was elated when one day I was tapped for my first fit model position.
I was given time away from my regular duties for one hour to report to the design area, there were a couple of other ladies various ages and sizes also ready to be fitted with the latest design. We had many names for the different bras none of which the company knew about or if they did, they surely wouldn’t condone them. There was the “Over the shoulder boulder holder”, “Titslinger”, “Cowboy bra” (heads em up and rounds them out), the “Exaggeration bra” (makes mountain’s out of mole hills), my personal favorite “Peek a boo bra” this bra was the most provocative of them all, the round of your breast were exposed leaving the nipple just barely covered.
I couldn’t contain my excitement what would I be fitted for? Surely my age and perky young breast would be perfect for the most exotic bra they had designed. As my designer personally measured my naked breast, circumference, cup size, length from my shoulder to nipple. I stood there shivering, not because I was cold but because I was so nervous, I am no prude, but I hadn’t had any woman be so up close and personal to my girls before. I stood there exposed to the world, well that’s what it felt like, there were two other fit models and three design fitters in the room. I looked over at one of the other older fit models, she was probably around forty and her breast hung heavy, I remember thinking to myself, “I know what bra type they are going to have her try out” the boulder holder. Once we were all measured out came the clear tote with an assortment of flesh coloured bras and one red one. This had to be the bra I was to try out.
As the design team handed our bras to us and helped up put them on and check us for the fit, I realized by the time the tote came to me the red bra was missing. I turned to the older woman with the heavy hanging breast s and there she was putting on the most beautiful red lace bra I had ever seen. My hopes were dashed even further when they handed me my bra, a very plain seamless slightly padded sports bra. There we all stood like soldiers at attention waiting final inspection, my eyes glanced to my right at the red lace bra, it’s not fair, I would have been a knockout in that bra. We were given our instructions with a note book to report back the next day on the overall fit and comfort of the bra we were given.
As I went back to my desk and returned to my regular duties the hours flew by and before I knew it I was home relaxing. As I laid on the couch ready to watch “my shows”, I realized that the bra I was wearing was so comfortable and lightweight It hardly felt like I was wearing one. I got up went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and realized that my nipples were not protruding through the soft padding of the bra. This was a great sweater/T shirt bra, it kept the “headlights “ from showing. I grabbed my note pad and jotted down all my observances of this most comfortable bra I had ever worn. I checked off the appropriate boxes that were printed on each page regarding fit, form and function. I then went freestyle and wrote several sentences regarding my opinions on this “super bra” hoping there would be a catch phrase somewhere within my scrawling that they would use in advertising this new bra line, I would be promoted to advertising………..
We reported back to the design team two days later I turned in my report and waited for the response to my eloquent descriptions. I could have stood there all day, because she just took the notebook and left the room.
I didn’t hear anything back at all in fact I started to think I might have been over zealous in my report because a month went by without me ever seeing the fitting room again. Then when I least expected it, you know the day when you didn’t shave under your arms and hadn’t done your laundry in a week and only underwear you could find to put on were your granny panty monthlies, they tap you for a fit. There I stood face to face with my fitter as she measured my girls again. Beside me stood the older gal with the heavy breasts, I glanced over at her and maybe stared a little too long, she turned to me and said “honey don’t be jealous, one day you too will enjoy a rack like this”, then she laughed. I grinned back ignorantly “what the heck did she mean by that, I thought”.
Out came the clear tote this time it was a swirl of color and lace, not a flesh toned bra in sight. I was handed a turquoise lace bra, demi cup. I couldn’t believe my luck. As I put it on and leaned forward as instructed by my fitter to put my hand inside the cup and pull up my breast to rest snugly above the wire form. The nipples were barely covered by a scalloped lace trim. I did feel so damn sexy at that moment even if I was wearing knickers I could pull up past my fourth rib. I put my sweater on and grabbed my notebook and returned to my cubicle and desk. As I walked past my fellow employees and their little cubicles I felt like a super model my back was straight chin up and breast thrust outward.
I sat down at my own desk and began my regular duties. It was then I noticed a slight irritation on my left nipple. I brushed my hand over my breast to calm the slight discomfort. As the day progressed I began to feel irritation on the right breast, I again brushed my hand across my sweater to calm the tingle. Then my left nipple must of felt left out because it started to become itchy, I froze as my right nipple followed suite just at the time my male supervisor approached my desk and asked for a spreadsheet I was working on. My face began to redden as my nipples became more and more irritated I tried to adjust my posture and squirmed in my chair as my boss stood over me looking at the numbers of returns and adjustments I was working on. I was thinking I wish I could adjust this damn bra before my nipples fall off. He finally walked away and I made a beeline to the restroom. I ran into the first stall and closed the door, I lifted up my sweater took the palm of my hand and rubbed my poor little tata’s , as I looked down at them I could see that they were not very happy, almost double in size and purple. Crap I couldn’t take the bra off now I still had three hours of work till five o’clock and my other bra was in my locker. Breaks were timed and if I left now to get my other bra out of my locker go back to the restroom and take this deathtrap off and put my old well worn one back on I would be written up for abusing my break time, we were only allowed fifteen minutes. I had already used up 7 minutes just scratching my tits in the toilet. Damn this lace torture device. I had no other alternative, I took off the bra ran a paper towel under cold water and applied them to my angry nipples, patted them dry and pulled my sweater down over my perky but very sore breasts grabbed the turquoise bra and bundle it up and walked back to my cubicle and threw it in my desk drawer. When the day was over I grabbed my purse and held it in front of my chest and walked to my car. I prayed all the way home that I had enough gas and that I didn’t have to stop between there and home. I did not want to walk out in public bra less with two very enlarged angry nipples poking through my loose knit sweater.
After I had my mastectomy I grew to hate bras it was a reminder of what I had lost. The first thing I did was rearrange my lingerie drawer. I took out all the bras and threw them away. I had purchased camisoles with built in bras, they were comfortable and flattened my one breast. I was able to put a pillow form prosthesis on the other side to give me some kind of symmetry.
Three months after my last treatment I couldn’t stand it any more, I was now ready for reconstruction. I had scheduled my consult with a very well respected Plastic surgeon who had a passion to help women with the effects that breast cancer had done to their bodies. He was very clear and informative on the various ways of reconstruction.
To be continued............
