In 2004, I was a vibrant, successful, fifty-nine year old kick butt racket-ball player. So, suddenly being relegated to drab, colorless, unfashionable bras, which I refer to as the ugly bra syndrome after my mastectomy, was quite disconcerting; I still wanted to feel sensual through the look and feel of lovely undergarments as I always had. No longer available to post mastectomy women were the vibrant colors and various materials that I preferred. So I was excited to finally have the opportunity to consult with a reconstruction surgeon; it had been one year since my mastectomy. Of course the treatment team informed me that radiation would most likely preclude breast reconstruction but I only heard the "most likely" part of that sentence. Filled with confidence and ready to get on with the next phase of my recovery process I awaited the surgeon's footsteps with excited anticipation. However, upon his entering the room I soon became anxious as I saw the concerned expression on his face. With trepidation I said, "What?"
He said, "Well, after studying your medical records I am doubtful that reconstruction would be advisable for you. How will you feel if the procedure fails?"
"Why would you assume failure?" I asked incredulously.
"Because there is a high rate of implant rejection with women in general and almost double that rate for women who have received radiation treatments following a mastectomy. And then there is the problem of gravity." He said.
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I ask him what he meant by gravity. As delicately as possible he replied, "As you age your left breast will continue to droop but the implant in the right side of your chest would remain stationary."
Graphically envisioning that scenario was depressing to say the least. I ask, "So what you are saying is that one way or the other, I will be permanently disfigured right?
"That is correct", said he. I thank him for his discouraging but honest diagnosis and pensively walked to my car.
Somewhere along the journey of my life I have internalized that old saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." During my two hour drive home, I began asking myself what I could do given this disappointing outcome. How could I make the proverbial lemonade?
Glancing to my South, a plan began to take shape against the backdrop of the snow covered Olympic Mountains. I would put together a smashing proposal to send to Victoria's Secret. I would convince them that there was a much needed whole new line of bras for woman with mastectomies.
I spent weeks getting organized, researching Victoria's Secret's background, including their mission statement by Chief Exactor Officer, Leslie H. Wexler. The mission statement read in part, "I don't believe bigger is better, I believe better is better". Yes, I thought, this is it! So began my introduction letter, "Mr. Wexner could not have possibly known how prophetic his statement would be. As you will come to understand while reading this proposal, I speak for thousands of woman who are most assuredly not interested in "bigger" but we are in desperate need of better.
In order to impress the need for a new market I presented startling facts such as, "Every three minutes a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer in the United States alone and "In 2007, 186,467 women were diagnosed with breast cancer," There are many indicators that the incidents of breast cancer are on the rise. This is precisely why it would behoove Victoria's Secrets to consider a new catalogue product line as part of your commitment to, "Building a family of the world's best fashion brands offering captivating customer experiences that drive long-term loyalty and deliver sustained growth for" your shareholders.
I argued that many women like me found Victoria's Secret's bras to be the best fit prior to their mastectomy. As it turns out, the same bra remained the best fit after the mastectomy. The loss of one breast does not negate the overall enduring shape and contour of the desired bra. I pointed out that the primary reason for utilizing Victoria's Secret beyond the obvious beauty and diversity of the bra's themselves was the convenience and location of stores in every city. Women could go to their local store, try on their favorite bra then order them through the special "mastectomy" catalogue that would have inexpensive Standardized Pockets to accommodate their prostheses.
I went on to explain that while a few of the better department stores will graciously sew a prosthesis pocket into your bra of choice, the quality of material as well as the sewing technique itself often leaves much to be desired because neither the seamstress nor the customer has had experience in this specialized area. Sending two registered letters to Victoria's Secret headquarters, I waited with baited breath for days, weeks, and then months. Finally, I sent an inquiry about my proposal and in return received a no thank you letter from their legal department.
While nothing came of my proposal except for my own personal healing. The mere act of getting outside of me, or to be more precise, my vanity, prompted me to consider the plight of millions of other woman diagnosed with cancer. This project gave me the opportunity to get into action and reflect on my profound gratitude for having become a cancer thriver verses a cancer survivor. I am so much more than my boob and indeed better than better.