Significant birthdays deserve to be celebrated with meaningful moments. This was one of those birthdays for me, a side road but very much a part of my Journey. I knew it was time to do something that had been on my radar even before I heard those four frightening words for the second time, “You have breast cancer”. This story is about my breast reconstruction, a reflection of my Journey.
Late in 2013 I decided to register for a M.Ed. program in Teacher Leadership. I shared the news with my husband knowing it would jump start his clock. So, I looked at him and said, “When I finish, I’m going to get a shamrock tattoo on my ass.” Van Morrison is one of our favorite musical artists, an Irish storyteller and musician. Someone once asked him during an interview what his favorite kind of music is. He replied, “Anything that makes my arse shake!” Embracing my Irish heritage, I decided the shamrock tattoo would be an appropriate finale to celebrate my long-desired goal of earning my master’s degree. Reflecting back to this moment is important for understanding why this story reflects my Journey.
A Long Road to Breast Reconstruction
During the middle of my first semester, April of 2014, I received the dreaded news of a second diagnosis. The treatment plan had to include a double mastectomy for my best long-term health and survival. It was going to derail my plans to finish my M.Ed. I had to focus on my health. The shamrock on my ass was the furthest thing from my mind now.
The next few years would involve multiple scans, blood tests, starting a 10-year cycle of medication, injections to prevent bone loss, several rounds of physical therapy, genetic testing, a skin sparing, nipple sparing double mastectomy, and three surgeries to complete my DIEP flap breast reconstruction.
I will not finish my 10-year cycle of medication until 2024. Every 6-months I see my oncologist, get bone density tests every two years, and work like hell every day to stay fit, eat healthy, and maintain a positive attitude surrounding myself with those who nurture all of these life changes. The DiepCJourney.com blog and DiepCFoundation.org nonprofit are integral parts of my daily life.
A Reflection and Mark of my Personal Journey
I never let go of the idea of a tattoo. The design idea of a shamrock, however, changed over time. I met Eric in February of 2019. He is a Seattle tattoo artist who does 3-dimensional nipple and areola restorative tattoos for breast cancer patients. He also does decorative tattoos for post mastectomy patients. With a background in visual arts and 30 years of experience, I knew if I were to ever get a tattoo, he would be the person who would do one for me. When you open his website you see the words, “Artistry to Take You Beyond Surgery”.
I made an appointment to see Eric on my birthday. It was a cold, rainy morning in Seattle when I started the drive over to his new studio. He greeted me at the door with mask on. I stood there in amazement admiring the simplistic and meticulous look of his new studio. He asked me to sanitize my hands. When I walked over to a large bottle at the door, he redirected me to another smaller bottle. “You might want to use this one. I got that one from a friend and it’s a bit boozy.”
Looking at him smiling through my own mask I said, “It’s my birthday. I will take ‘boozy’!” He was correct. It had delicious hints of whiskey and bourbon. It was a good way to start the morning.
Making Plans
Eric and I sent emails back and forth sharing ideas for my tattoo. I was certain it had to reflect my Irish heritage. The Celtic symbol my friend and artist Meagan designed for me when I started my blog would be the focus of the tattoo. Without a doubt, the word “Journey” would be incorporated in the tattoo. Written in my handwriting with the word “Journey” would be the date of my DIEP flap reconstruction, 12-01-14.
Eric sketched out a few ideas on some sort of mobile device. He printed up a replica with the exact size the tattoo would be. I stood in front of a mirror and we talked about placement. At one point, I contemplated putting the tattoo on my back in the same spot our youngest son has a scar. The bonding between my two sons runs deep. This seemed like one option. He reminded me; however, I would seldom see it.
Then he looked at my abdominal scar, still visible but substantially faded in the six years since my breast reconstruction. Eric placed the example in the curve of my hip just below my abdominal scar. Perfect! I knew he found the sweet spot. Guided by his artistic eye and background, we began. It reminded me of the day I sat in my surgeon’s office for my consult. He carefully viewed the canvas of my body, skin, taking careful measurements, all while listening to my preferences and combining it with his artistry.
The Execution of the Journey
I began by laying flat on his studio table where he performs the tattoos. He asked me if I could turn and lay on my left side. Because the tattoo would be in the curve of my right hip it was the best position for his artistry and skill. I reminded him it was no problem. Dr. C, my reconstructive surgeon had removed scarring and fibrotic tissue that had formed in my left breast area after radiation during my first diagnosis. Since my DIEP flap, I told Eric laying on my left side was no longer an issue.
He gently asked if I was ready. I felt relaxed and comfortable with Eric, so I responded, “Let’s do this.” Eric reminded me there is only one experience with a “first ever tattoo”. This was my moment. I spoke to other friends who had tattoos and I knew there would be a bit of pain involved. In our emails I asked him if there was anything I should do to prepare. He knew my history with chemotherapy, radiation, and multiple surgeries. His response, “It is mostly a mental preparation that is important. I think that you will have that well in hand, so it seems mute to even mention.”
A Reflection of all who Take this Journey
As I rested comfortably on the table listening to the buzz of his tattoo machine, I thought about all those who traveled this Journey after me, those who are preparing their own personal Journey, and yes, those who are no longer with us. Sadly, the week before my tattoo, I lost a friend to metastatic breast cancer. The mild sting of the tattoo pen faded as I thought about all of these people.
Before I knew it, the simple, elegant, solid black tattoo was complete, one small part of my Journey, forever etched into my skin. He asked me to stand in front of the mirror to look at the reflection of the tattoo. Under my mask, I was smiling as I stood in front of the mirror. Then I turned and looked at Eric. I could not contain my emotion. Our conversation stopped as he handed me a tissue box and said, “This means I have done my job.”
We could not hug each other that day masked up during the pandemic. I was the only one allowed in his elegant new studio to protect us both from any exposure. What a year to finally do this during a global pandemic, on my 65th birthday, and to celebrate my breast reconstruction with a tattoo and reflection of my Journey.
