STAYING FASHIONABLE DESPITE THE ODDS

By Victoria Moore

 

   The other day I was asked by someone in an online discussion, "Which one word do you want people to think of when they think of you?" Without a second thought I said, "Stylish." If you'd have asked me that same question four years ago when I was diagnosed with Stage II A Breast Cancer, I might've said ,"Tough," but now that I'm in my post-cancer treatment phase I feel my journey has been personified by my appearance. Regardless of my financial circumstances, physical state or lifestyle changes I've discovered how to project self-assurance, mastery, courage and substance through the way I've dressed on my journey. Looking back I realize that was one of the ways I maintained my dignity while living with the disease.

   According to writer and breast cancer survivor Madhulika Sikka in her book "A Breast Cancer Alphabet," "Going through something like cancer treatments is hard, and it shows. If it works for you, to don a mask, great, because you and no one but you gets to decide how you look." During my current phase I've been subjected to criticism by people, who've never walked in my shoes, for "dressing" and it's led to unnecessary conflicts and misunderstandings that've added to the stress and anxiety I already feel as I try to rejoin the real world. A few months ago I read an article about an African woman who made peace with herself and her stylish upbringing by embracing it as a professional woman now living in the United States. Before she decided to dress beautifully, she'd downplayed that side of her personality so that she'd be taken seriously in the workplace. The thing I really related to, in the article, was how she came to the realization that being chic was a significant part of who she was and she was cheating herself by submerging it.
    As I struggled with cancer I was confronted by my own inner struggle over whether or not to hang onto this aspect of my life forever. Despite what my naysayers have said I've decided to keep it and enjoy it to the hilt. For women with breast cancer getting dressed and looking stylish can be a daunting challenge since they not only have to deal with the results from a mastectomy, scarring, side effects from chemo, procedures and medication they might also have to deal with isolation, depression and budgetary restrictions.

Ivey Abitz:

   After I had my first chemo treatment my immune system became so compromised that I couldn't go out in public and shop when I needed to. I did have internet access, however, and through my account on Face book I discovered a wonderful clothing company called "Ivey Abitz." Created by Cynthia Ivey Abitz and her husband Joshua Ivey Abitz their philosophy is "to give a nod to the past and present." Vintage-inspired and classic, their women's collections are timeless, versatile, unique and exquisite. For Summer 2014, even though I thought everything was beautiful, the one look that caught my eye was featured in their May 31, 2014 blog "Cottage Design Collection." Described as "having abundant ease and comfort," I felt Look No. 26, a beige cardigan over a white camisole and beige frock was the perfect outfit for someone going through the breast cancer journey because everything can be layered for warmth in case the examination room or the chemo suite is chilly, and the pieces can be easily removed for procedures. Dressy enough to be worn to a job, with a semi-casual atmosphere, it can also be worn to a support group or a local art gallery opening.

Angela Sum:
   While the internet is an excellent place to look for clothing choices, when you can't physically go to the stores, T.V. is another. When I was quarantined at home and in the hospital, I also kept up with fashion by looking at "America's Next Top Model" and "Project Runway." This season, I was immediately struck by how L.A. fashion designer Angela Sum, presented her "practical clothes" to the judges. What set her apart from the other contestants for me was the calm way she talked about "how she wasn't trying to reinvent the wheel but instead wanted to add subtle changes to classics that brought out a woman's femininity but also made her look like an individual."
   Considering the obstacles I've had with dressing in separates that would camouflage my surgical scars, and be versatile enough to accessorize easily, I felt the white "alternative dress shirt" and grey skinny pants Sum wore on one of the episodes would be the perfect solution to this problem. Roomy and loose enough to wear over a white t-shirt or tank top for extra warmth if I got chilly on a doctor's visit, the dress shirt is also elegant enough to wear to work then on a dinner date afterwards.

Looking to the Past for Inspiration:

 

 
    Before I was diagnosed with lupus in 2008, then lost all of my hair to chemo, I'd worn sunglasses and hats every now and then, but when I was forced to deal with these obstacles full time I had to find a way to incorporate them into my look. Physically, I have a tall, slender frame, long neck and small head so I was drawn to cloche hats and knit berets then. I've always been a huge fan of the 1920's so I adopted this style and still wore it once my hair grew back because it was very becoming.
   To keep up with different versions of the trend I look at books like Betty Kreisel Shubert's "Out-of-Style A Modern Perspective Of How, Why and When Vintage Fashions Evolved." Through her illustration in the section "The Changing Shapes of Women's Millinery 1906-1920's" I learned how to alter this look and make it more girly by accenting a hat with a flower pin.
   During those times when I couldn't replenish my wardrobe, through shopping, I often relied on older things I've owned for years to coordinate. When I read Shubert's quote, "Clothes that earn the title "Classic" or "Vintage" are beautiful in their own right," I felt justified for hanging onto them and wearing them when I needed and wanted to.
    Wherever you choose to seek inspiration, and however you try to stay within the fashion loop during your journey with breast cancer, don't forget to see it as part of your recovery and a way to add structure to your life as you travel on this new and interesting path.

Resources:
1) Ivey Abitz (www.iveyabitz.com)
2) Angela Sum (www.angelasum.com)
3) "Out-of-Style A Modern Perspective Of How, Why and When Vintage Fashions Evolved," written and illustrated by Betty Kreisel Shubert (www.outofstylethebook.com, bettyshubert@cox.net). This book is a great read and is a good way to escape and learn more about fashion from an insider.

THANKS FOR THE MAMMARIES!

Check out this blog post from Paula Tiberius.  Paula participated in an art show benefitting CSC entitled Thanks for the Mammaries at ForYourArt Gallery.  Artist and breast cancer survivor Bettina Hubby created this show.  Thank you to Bettina and Klowden Mann!

http://paulatiberius.com/blog/2014/08/01/thanks-for-the-mammaries/

BEYOND BLACK AND WHITE: TRANSLATING A TREND

By Victoria Moore
Victoria writes about all things fashion-related and is a Stage IIA Breast Cancer survivor

 Looking for a job is never easy, especially when you've just spent four years of your life battling Stage II A Breast Cancer and other health issues, but the thing that's made it particularly hard for me is navigating around the challenges of resumes, interviews and employment inquiries in clothes that make me look professional and stylish yet remain comfortable and polished throughout the day.
   To get the crisp, fresh allure I was seeking when I had to go to an interview with a staffing agency last month I selected a trend that's always appealed to me-black and white. Reminiscent of art deco, film noir and the Mod gear from the 1960's, it took me back to the 1980's when I worked as a salesperson at The Limited in the Century City Plaza. While working there we were required to buy and wear their clothes on the sales floor during our shift. I didn't make a lot of money then, but I still needed the job, so I had to find a way to conform and keep my managers happy. I decided to create a formula of black and white separates that I could mix and match easily.

The Formula:
   Small, but versatile, I remember buying a white mini skirt, a black mini skirt, a white shirt, a black shirt and a pair of black slim fitting pants. All of the pieces were made out of cotton so I didn't have to take anything to the dry cleaners or worry about being uncomfortable when I wore them. I wouldn't say this was my finest fashion moment but at least it taught me how to create a uniform from one store's offerings that worked on and off the clock. At the time the only clothing problems I had to worry about was how to find something in my size and something I could afford. When I approached the black and white color scheme this time I had to figure out how to coordinate an outfit that wouldn't show all of my surgical and procedural scars and make me look as in control as possible.

   "People of all ages and circumstances of life are aware of appearance in perception of self and their relations with other people," wrote Abilene M. Hoffman, Ph.D. in Clothing For The Handicapped, the Aged, and Other People With Special Needs. Before, when I chose black and white I wanted to get the approval from my supervisors at The Limited, but this time I wanted to appear competent and prepared for a general office position by an organization that I hadn't worked with in over five years. The ability to project my most positive and best self after my stint with Breast Cancer has been a fraught with frustrating obstacles and disappointing outcomes, as my job search stretches out longer than I anticipated.

Doing My Homework:
   With this in mind I studied my fashion magazines for the season's trends and become inspired by a layout feature called mono pattern in the May 2014 issue of the Japanese version of NYLON. The placement coordinator told me, over the phone, to "dress as if I were going on a job interview" when I asked what I should wear to meet with her. I didn't want to limit myself just in case I changed my mind, so I pulled my black Calvin Klein dress out of my closet, along with my off-white and black striped sweater set by Ann Taylor, my black Ann Taylor Loft pants and my black and white pinstriped blazer by Norma Kamali.

   For a time, right after I started my chemo treatments, my skin turned sallow and I had dark bags under my eyes that were more prominent when I wore black near my face so I stopped wearing it and chose brighter colors and prints instead. I've since made my peace with black because it doesn't make me look sick any longer, and I've finished chemo, so I've learned how to coordinate around it without losing my individuality. Besides I've also had to compromise and accept the corporate policy some retail stores adhere to when I've interviewed with them and contemplated being employed by them in the future.

    Ideally the black dress any well-dressed woman counts as her "LBD" ("little black dress"), for various occasions should be as simply designed as possible so that it can be dressed up or dressed down accordingly. Before I bought my Calvin Klein dress at Ross I used to wear a black silk crepe 1960's dress I found at the Daniel Freeman Thrift Auxilary for $5.00 to all of my professional engagements. I finally had to retire it for awhile and look for an updated modern version with the same lines. That's when I found the Calvin Klein waiting for me on the Sale rack for about $20.00.

Shopping For Inspiration:
   On the day I had a doctor's appointment with my Oncologist, the creation of this outfit was on my mind, because I hadn't pulled everything together yet, so I decided to walk down to the Ross and Fallas on LaCienega Blvd. to see if I could find something inspiring. After an hour of filling up my shopping cart, from the suit, dress and cardigan rack, with about seven black, black and white and navy-blue and white polka-dotted dresses, a navy-blue pantsuit and a black and white long-sleeved Calvin Klein cardigan, I went to the fitting room to try them on.

   "Garments considered for purchase should always be tried on for fit, comfort and general appearance," wrote Hoffman. Women who've had a mastectomy and are wearing a prosthetic bra or have had reconstruction specifically need to follow this advice because they might have to make adjustments. Since I bought my black dress prior to my mastectomy, it fit differently following surgery, so I have to wear a black stretch camisole underneath it to fill it out.Initially I was frustrated about the way my dress fit, but once I tried on the camisole with it and saw that the alteration wasn't noticeable, I was happy with the addition.

   The dresses I'd selected were the same style as my Calvin Klein so I passed on them, and the suit was too big and casual so I passed on that too. I was left with the cardigan, and at $19.99, with a silhouette that flowed easily around my body, I felt it would be a perfect accompaniment to my dress. Earlier, while in the shoe section, I'd tried on a pair of white pointy toed Nine West flats accented with beige bow detailing. They cost about $17.99 and were the only shoes I saw that day that were in my budget. I tried them on again, and after visualizing them with my dress, I left the shopping area with them in my cart.

   When I got to the check-out counter I told the cashier, "I'm going to wear this black and white cardigan over a black Calvin Klein dress I bought at Ross about five years ago then I'm going to put on a pair of black tights to make these shoes pop. To tie it all together I'm going to go over to Fallas to buy some gold or pearl jewelry to wear with for extra pizazz."

   "You sound like you have it all planned out," she said.

     At Fallas I immediately went to their jewelry section and bought two gigantic pearl bracelets for $1.99 each, a black and silver pearl bracelet for $1.99, a black and brown pearl bracelet for $1.99 and a black rhinestone hair clip for $.99.

 Trying Everything On:
   That afternoon, after I got home with my haul, I still wasn't sure if my idea would work until I tried everything on in front of my full-length mirror. To complete the outfit I added a short strand of pearls my grandmother had given me for my birthday one year, the two gigantic pearl bracelets I bought at Fallas, black tights, the white and beige flats, a black leather purse and a beige suede briefcase to the black dress and the black and white cardigan. Although it looked wonderfully elegant I realized that since I had to take two buses to get to my appointment with the agency, and the intake process would take from two to three hours, I needed to wear something equally attractive but more practical for the day ahead.

   I knew I didn't want to make the same mistakes I'd made while working at The Limited, by turning black and white into a formulaic uniform, so I decided to give it a slight retro masculine/feminine feel by wearing my black and white pinstriped blazer over my off-white and black striped sweater set and a pair of black pants. I then added the strand of pearls and bracelets for glamour. Mindful of my body flaws again, I chose the sweater set because it wasn't too snug and was made out of 100% silk. The shell is a tank and the cardigan is long-sleeved so I knew I'd be comfortable en route to my appointment when worn underneath my blazer.

   At the end of my day I couldn't say that my appearance guaranteed a dream offer, through the agency, but the compliment by the placement coordinator that "I looked beautiful and exactly how I should look on the first day of any assignment" definitely gave me confidence and filled me with gratitude that someone appreciated that I'd chosen the right colors.

THE CANCER EXPERIENCE: THE DOCTOR, THE PATIENT, THE JOURNEY

From PSYCHOLOGY TODAY
by Roy B. Sessions, M.D.

Referral to the Oncologist Once Cancer is Suspected: Scary

Waiting for the diagnostic process to begin can be a period of torment.

Published on June 28, 2014 by Roy B. Sessions, M.D. in The Cancer Experience

 

To see article, visit:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-cancer-experience/201406/referral-the-oncologist-once-cancer-is-suspected-scary

NEW TREATMENT OPTION FOR YOUNG WOMEN WITH HORMONE-SENSITIVE BREAST CANCER

Article from the National Cancer Institute at the National Institutes of Health
NCI Press Release
Posted June 1, 2014

New treatment option for young women with hormone-sensitive breast cancer

HEART OF THE MATTER: TREATING THE DISEASE INSTEAD OF THE PERSON

NPR Blog
by Leana Wen
to view in original source visit: http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2014/06/25/324005981/heart-of-the-matter-treating-the-disease-instead-of-the-person

June 25, 201411:05 AM ET

 

A 56-year-old man is having lunch with his wife at a seafood restaurant just outside Boston when he develops crushing chest pain. He refuses an ambulance, so the man's wife drives him to the ER.
What happens next says a lot about the difference that being a doctor or a patient can make in how one feels about the health care system.

First, how did the patient and his wife see the trip to the hospital?

When the man arrives in the ER, he is told to take off his shirt. He lies in the hallway, in pain, naked from the waist up. Strangers surround him. They don't introduce themselves, and they talk over him, at each other.

Pagers ring and there's a lot of beeping. Someone else must be really sick, he thinks; that must be why no one is paying attention.

After a few minutes, he signs some forms and finds himself being wheeled into an elevator. Masked figures enter. He feels a cool liquid flowing into his veins. The lights go out.

He wakes up hooked up to machines, uncertain what has happened. It takes several hours for the staff to find his wife, who is still waiting in the ER lobby and has no idea why her husband is in intensive care.

They are both surprised when they find out, two days later, that he's had a heart attack. As soon as they get home, they file a complaint with the hospital about their terrible experience.
Now, how did the staff at the hospital see it?

A triage nurse greets the patient immediately upon his arrival and finds out that he has chest pain. Within three minutes, he gets an electrocardiogram that shows he is having a heart attack. The ER doctor activates the special heart attack pager, which immediately summons the emergency cardiology team.

The doctors and nurses arrive and bring the patient up to the catheterization suite. There, the attending cardiologist threads a catheter through an artery in his groin and pushes it all the way to his heart, where the doctor sees on an X-ray machine that a vessel is blocked. She inflates a small balloon in the catheter, opening the artery and restoring the flow of blood to the man's heart.

All told, it took only 22 minutes from the time the man entered the hospital for the cardiology team to clear the blockage. The cardiology team is proud that they beat the national average for what they call door-to-balloon time by 42 minutes. The faster a blockage can be cleared, the better the odds are for a full recovery.

The patient gets well without complications. Two weeks later, he's back at work and exercising again. The ER and cardiology teams consider the man's case a resounding success.

Why then are there such different views of the same ER visit? Who's right? The doctors who believe they delivered exemplary care, or the patient and his wife who feel he was treated badly?

As an emergency physician and advocate for my patients, I frequently hear clashing stories like these. When I review the cases, I find that the doctors and nurses are often surprised by the patient's complaint because they did everything by the book and made no medical mistakes.

Indeed, in this case, every measure of sound medical care was met: prompt diagnosis, speedy and effective treatment and an uneventful, full recovery.

The objective measures that health care workers focus on are necessary, but they're not enough by themselves. Every provider in this man's case had good intentions and was working hard to respond to the medical emergency. But in their rush to open the blocked heart artery, they treated him as a disease to be cured, not a person to be cared for.

Would it have alleviated the patient's anxiety for the doctors and nurses to introduce themselves, and to ask if he wanted his wife by his side? Would it have helped to assure him that all the activity was happening around him because everyone was trying to take care of him?
I think those simple courtesies would have made a difference.

These instructions aren't on typical checklists for treatment of heart attack, yet they are part of caring for people as human beings. In modern medicine, we are fortunate to have incredible high-tech options available, but we must not forget the low-tech approaches that can improve communication and quality of care.

Patients and family members can also speak up when they are confused and scared. It's possible that doctors explained what was happening, but not clearly enough.

What if the patient said he didn't understand what was going on? What problems could have been avoided if the patient and his wife didn't wait until after he was discharged to raise their concerns?
The two viewpoints of this ER visit end with one thing in common. Just as the providers were surprised by the patient's complaint, the patient and his wife were taken aback when the team that I was part of presented them with their doctors' point of view.

"We had no idea they were trying so hard," the man said. "It's too bad we didn't know that at the time."

Wen is an attending physician and director of patient-centered care research in the Department of Emergency Medicine at George Washington University. She is the author of "When Doctors Don't Listen: How to Avoid Misdiagnoses and Unnecessary Care," and founder of Who's My Doctor, a project to encourage transparency in medicine. On Twitter: DrLeanaWen

LIVING WITH CANCER: CHRONIC, NOT CURED

By SUSAN GUBAR    

June 5, 2014 12:26 pm  

Posted on The New York Times 'Well' Blog.  To view blog in original source, visit Living With Cancer     

 

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Susan Gubar is a distinguished emerita professor of English at Indiana University and the author of “Memoir of a Debulked Woman,” which explores her experience with ovarian cancer. 

 

At the end of yoga sessions for cancer patients, we are told to say to ourselves, “I am whole, healed and healthy in this and every moment.” Perversely, since in yoga we express aspirations as if they were already so, the sentence reminds me of people who congratulate me on being “cancer free.” Stable disease often goes unrecognized.

 

Perhaps the concept of chronic cancer has been hard to comprehend because public discussion tends to focus on the initial diagnosis of breast cancer. Early detection of breast cancer yields good survival rates and many patients can consider themselves cured. Often we assume a clear-cut partition between survivors and the terminally ill.

    

In her book “Cancer Made Me a Shallower Person: A Memoir in Comics,” Miriam Engelberg divides a circle into two uneven segments to illustrate a divide in the breast cancer community. The larger part of the circle is labeled “Primary Diagnosis Only,” and a cartoon bubble exclaims, “I’m O.K. — Really!” The small section is labeled “Gone Metastatic,” with the caption “Damn!”

 

From the time she got her initial diagnosis in 2001 until her death in 2006, the same year her book was published, Ms. Engelberg resisted pressure to become “someone nobler and more courageous than I was.” She followed “the path of shallowness” by producing a series of droll comics on the “insanely cheerful” chemotherapy booklets and radiation technicians she encountered. She mocked her own self-absorption, trepidation and irritation as well as the social quandaries that arose as she, like her cartoon surrogate, plummeted from cancer survivor to terminal patient.

 

But for some of us, there is a middle stage in this journey. Because of advances in cancer research and the efforts of dedicated oncologists, a large population today deals with disease kept in abeyance. The cancer has returned and has been controlled, but it will never go away completely. Like me, these people cope with cancer that is treatable for some unforeseeable amount of time. Chronic cancer means you will die from it — unless you are first hit by the proverbial bus — but not now, not necessarily soon.

 

The word “chronic” resides between the category of cured and the category of terminal. It refers to disease that is not spreading, malignancy that can be arrested but not eradicated. At times, the term may seem incommensurate with repetitive and arduous regimens aimed at an (eventually) fatal disease. For unlike diabetes or asthma, cancer does not respond predictably to treatment.

  

Still, quite a few patients with some types of leukemia or lymphoma, prostate or ovarian cancer live for years. While in the 1970s 10 percent of women with metastatic breast cancer survived five or more years, today up to 40 percent do. Chronic disease may lack the drama of diagnosis and early treatment; even friends can get bored by mounting details. Its evolution does not conform to the feel-good stories of recovery that most of us want to read. But neither does it adhere to the frightfully degenerative plot of quickly advancing tumors.

 

On a number of websites, people with chronic cancer discuss the succession of therapies in which they enlist. When one drug fails, another combination of drugs begins. Complex dosing schedules, multiple tests and hospitalizations take their toll. No matter how grateful these patients are for their continuing existence, it requires not the spurt of sprinters but the stamina and sometimes the loneliness of long distance runners.

 

Ms. Engelberg’s “path of shallowness” can alleviate strain, especially from disabling byproducts of persistent maintenance: sadness, anxiety, anger and then remorse about all those roiling emotions. When repetitive and arduous regimens weary the spirit, it may be impossible to value the preciousness of life, to adopt a healthy lifestyle, to visualize one’s harmony with the universe, to attain loving kindness, to stay positive, to meditate to a state of mindfulness, to greet each day as a prized gift, to enlist the power of now. The social pressure to be upbeat can get anyone down.

 

The shallow path enables the cartoon character Miriam to circumvent the guilt trips induced by a gaggle of past and present cancer gurus. Instead of going inward, she often distracts herself: zoning out on “Judge Judy” or attaining “trivia nirvana” through crossword puzzles or joking about the need for a support group to cope with the jolly advice of her support group. Eventually she decides to make cartooning her “spiritual practice.”

 

If I am low during a yoga session, if the warrior, the goddess and the star feel impossibly strenuous, I take the shallow path with the supine pigeon and a revision of my wonderful instructor’s final words: “I am as whole, healed and healthy as I can be in this and every moment.”

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