Baring My Chest

By Sylvia Metzler
WILPF Philadelphia

November 2021

“Life holds potential meaning under any conditions, even the most miserable ones.” 
      —Dr. Viktor Frankl

Perhaps I was dreaming about it, or somewhere it played in my subconscious, but all I can tell you is that I woke up shivering. It was two days before I was to have the bilateral breast reconstruction. Something told me not to do it. Maybe it was my age - I was now seventy eight - the long time under anesthesia, or my fear of surgical complications, but it was clear to me that I wasn’t going to do it.

I always wondered if someday I might get cancer; it was so prevalent in my family, and even my daughter had breast cancer. That did not lessen the shock, the fear, or the sadness that shot through me when the doctor called to tell me the results of my breast biopsy. I was attending a political meeting at the time, and was surprised that the news would be delivered via phone call. Though the men with whom I share the news could have been more caring and kind, I found I longed for the presence of a female who might understand more what it was like taking in this unwelcome information. So many things raced through my mind: surgery, radiation, chemo, hair loss, and the thought that I was not ready to die. There was still so much to be done.

I chose to have both breasts removed to eliminate the chance that cancer would occur in the spared breast. Though an infection followed the surgery, I never wanted for support in the form of visitors, home cooked meals, and medical care. 

When I dressed, the reflection in the mirror saddened me as I felt the loss of the breasts that had been a part of me for seventy-seven years. I am not sure how the idea of a tattoo occurred, but I found myself imagining what it might be like to cover my chest with art, something that was meaningful. I am an avid environmentalist, fearful that if we do not take care of Mother Earth, we will lose our pollinators and food will become scarce. 

The tattoo that now covers my chest, a vine of flowers with a butterfly and bumblebee, is more than a pretty picture. It speaks to my beliefs and to my heart about my love of the earth and concern for future generations. I have used it to tell a story and convey a message. I once dressed as a bee and met with children at camp to talk about pollination, and how this related to the production of food. On Earth Day, I sat outside Home Depot and protested the selling of destructive pesticides. Most fun was running a five kilometer race, and as I crossed the finish line, I tore off my shirt, arms raised victoriously in the air. 

This submission is based on her piece published in “Tattoo Monologues” by Donna L. Torrisi, MSN and John Giugliano, Ph.D. LCSW. Photo by Ken Kauffman. Permission and consent was granted by the author to feature this story for WILPF eNews. 

Interested in reading more? Please visit: www.thetattoomonologues.com/ to pre-order “Tattoo Monologues.”