I’ve been quietly rotating my knitting between three projects. Socks, the lace edging for the Rock Island Shawl (only 120 more rows), and a baby sweater. This last project is taking up most of my time as I’m playing with colors and short-rows (not the wrap and turn kind) while maintaining even row counts across the sweater for an even hem.
The inspiration piece was an art deco bracelet I saw and just couldn’t get out of my mind.
I loved the lines and the way they fit together. And so I’ve been swatching. I created a sweater that needed only one more sleeve to finish it, but decided to take it apart and start again. I’ve experimented with every short-row known to knitting. I instantly discarding the wrap and turn kind. I tried home-made short-rows, techniques that are particular to individuals as they were passed down from knitter to knitter within the families for ages. The non-wrap-and-turn short row I decided on works particularly well with garter stitch.
So far here are the lines of my sweater swatch.
They may go through another alteration as soon as I get some additional yarn I ordered. So today, I will work on starting and completing the short-row heel for the sock.
In other news, a dear friend of many years who just finished her treatments for breast cancer has now been diagnosed with lung cancer. The cancer was found in a routine check-up and covers the exact area that received radiation treatment for the breast cancer. The common wisdom among oncology doctors is the destruction wreaked by radiation treatment doesn’t show up until 10 years after radiation treatment. My friend is a young mother with two lovely young children. She is not even a year past treatment.
The news has hollowed me out. When she told me, my brain did the exact same thing it did when I was told of my breast cancer, it shut down, vacated the area. My friend and I were diagnosed with breast cancer at almost the same time. Her cancer was still contained. Mine was more advanced. It had escaped and hit my lymph nodes. She did everything the doctors told her to do. I didn’t.
We had recently decided that together we were going to get past this cancer thing and stop living with its shadow hanging over us. We were going to walk away from it. She started an exercise and healthy eating regime. I had already switched all my eating habits but I changed my exercise routine to Tai Chi because I wanted the body, mind and soul benefit, a more holistic approach, a way to meditate while being in action. I also liked the big arm movements of Tai Chi and it all but eliminated the lymphedema in my arm and mastectomy site. It also helped stop the pains in my bones caused by the Arimidex, my little anti-cancer pill that causes so much havoc with my system.
My friend and I were both feeling really good. We even mentioned to our doctors how well we felt. Cancer, it seems, has a very long shadow.
I can’t like this post. Well, I like the knitting part, and the bracelet is just beautiful. But the cancer. I can’t like that. It’s like a horror movie where the heroine is going along, enjoying her pretty life, and all the while you KNOW something dark is lurking in the cellar. And in true horror movie fashion, you only think you killed it.
How does one keep a positive, healthy mindset when faced with the lurking darkness below? I understand why your mind shut down. I don’t know why it wouldn’t.
All you can do, I guess is keep on doing what you are – eating right, exercising, getting your checkups, and knitting as fast as you can. And know that your friends near and far are thinking of you and will do whatever they need to do to help you. But you might have to speak up, especially for us far away ones. How can we help?
Salpal said it beautifully – all I can add is ‘ditto’. And a virtual hug, for what it is worth.
Thanks Salpal. The only thing I can do is keep doing what I am doing. I need to be reminded of that.
Thanks. It helps.
it is hard, I know. But you ARE doing the right things, and hopefully, that will matter in the end. How is your friend doing?
She’s holding up. They are going to operate and take a portion of the lung. How much this will affect her breathing I don’t know.
If it is just part of one lung, you will be amazed at how well she can breathe. M stepdad lost part of a lung in WWII and while it did make a difference, with careful planning, he was able to do most anything for many, many years. I have faith and confidence the same will be true for your friend. And that this will get the darned cancer out of her once and for all.
Thank you for the information. Keeping my fingers crossed that all will be well and that this is the last of the cancer.