Speaking of Tattoos

I awoke this morning thinking about the tattoo of a ship across a man's surgically altered chest.

It was a little over a year ago that I had a breast biopsy. I was lying on the table waiting for the doctor to locate the target area via sonogram. As she sought the mass, she commented on its position relative to my nipple. She said in all likelihood - if the mass proved cancerous - I would lose my nipple in surgery. She made every attempt to be comforting as she could sense my distress - even though I did my best to remain calm and hopeful. She said many women have their nipples rebuilt. Some women have a nipple tattooed in place of the lost one. I thought, "This discourse is irrelevant. This is not something I will have to worry about."

She then told me about a man she had diagnosed with an advanced stage of breast cancer. He was a sailor. Very robust. Loved the sea. He was the only man she'd ever diagnosed with breast cancer. And he had to have a double mastectomy: the removal of all the breast tissue in both breasts - including the nipples - as well as surrounding tissue and lymph nodes. She told me she'd seen him recently and he's doing very well. She told me he'd had a magnificent tattoo done across his chest of a ship on the sea. It was very elaborate, truly a work of art, she said. An homage to his life as a sailor.

While I was moved by this story, I continued to believe it was not applicable to me, that I did not have breast cancer and need not worry about losing my nipple or any other part of my breast to the surgeon.

So it turned out I was wrong. I did have breast cancer. And I did lose a nipple. I decided to invent a story about being a pirate and losing my nipple in a fierce sea battle. My pirate name is One-Eyed Jane. I suppose subconsciously the story of the sailor influenced this invention. I tried to pretend I was ferocious. And for a while, I believed it.

When I went back to work after having surgery, I tried to pretend like nothing had happened, that I'd been away on vacation. But when people ask "how are you" all day, eventually I fell slightly apart. I was having a difficult day and trying to hide it. I make jokes to cover pain. So when a co-worker asked how I was doing, I took advantage of the moment to ask how much she knew about indecent exposure laws. It seems, I pontificated, that a woman can wear the most revealing top as long as the nipple is not showing. For whatever reason, the nipple is the obscene element of the breast. Since the nipple on my right breast is gone, can I now wear shirts that expose my right breast and get away with it?

My co-worker then told me about a woman who had a double mastectomy. Once she'd completely recovered from surgery, she got an elaborate tattoo covering her chest and swinging up over the shoulders, around the neck and around the back, just like a halter top. The "fabric" had an intricate pattern of flora and fauna. She would go topless in public and people would comment on her gorgeous top before fully realizing that she was not wearing one.

This was just the story I needed to hear. It imbued me with the requisite bravery that all ferocious pirates must have.