Rave: Cancer Lesson #64 – It’s the Little Things That Matter
I bought some new bras this week.
No, the word “little” in the title is not a reflection of their size (though it would be accurate). And, yes, I realize that’s probably TMI for some of my readers.
You see, for the past year, nine months and 21 days, I’ve worn sports bras, camisoles or — and this was a big step forward — the sort of garment you’d buy a ten-year-old who’s outgrown her undershirts.
Everything else was uncomfortable and occasionally just plain painful. The kind of bras I wore in the past now felt like they’d been designed for the sole purpose of rubbing on my scars.
For those who don’t understand why this matters, I ask you to imagine wearing a big girl wardrobe over something that looks like this. Clearly, sports bras weren’t meant to be worn under a professional work wardrobe.
Things got better in March when I had what they call a revision, a process by which they remove the scarring and replace it with other soft tissue (read “fat”). That’s when I graduated to the training bras, which I could handle for a couple of hours at a time.
This week, however, I found two average looking soft cup bras that are actually comfortable.
Oh, they’re nothing exciting — no La Perla, or even Victoria’s Secret — yet it feels good to be able to wear something that’s comfortable, doesn’t look stupid under my clothing, and is even moderately pretty. Something feminine.
Maybe this doesn’t seem like a big deal — nothing compared to having survived cancer — and it isn’t. But cancer changed me, both physically and emotionally, and there’s no way of knowing which of these changes will be permanent. I’m happy because I thought I’d be wearing ugly undergarments for the rest of my life.
Being able to wear a regular bra again is a win. Even if it’s small as victories go, it’s still worth celebrating.
Make no mistake about it: little things matter.