A Knit Hat, A Bald Head

It was a summer evening, a week after my last chemotherapy appointment, and I was dressed up as Britney Spears circa 2007 for a costume party, donning my very bald head in all its glory. I was sharing the sensations I felt having no hair to a group of women — the cold patter of a light rain, how the wind flowed overtop of me, the bone chill I felt when it was exposed at times, and the overwhelming relief I felt when I had a hot flash and took off my head covering. As I described these feelings, someone mentioned I should write a poem to capture them. Forgive me, I have not attempted to write a poem since elementary school, but here is my best attempt:

Bald beneath the heavy sky
my scalp meets the cool, gentle rain
each drop a small reminder

Bald beneath the gray sky
the wind sweeps over top
urging me to breath

Bald beneath a bright blue sky
the sun warms my soul
a spirit that will not break
every lesson learned

No hair to hide behind
exposed to all the elements
a weightless feeling
here, alive in the quiet storm

No longer bald
and in my own power
embracing the new
fighting for the next chapter

As the seasons turned to Fall, the moments where I felt chilled became more frequent, the hot flashes subsided, and my hair began to sprout back. I needed more protection for my bare head, so I quickly knit a hat.

---

If you want to knit your own Hygge Hat, check out Wool and the Gang. If you want to knit a hat for a cancer patient, check out Passing Hats.

Sashiko Stitching Reboot

A new year often signifies new beginnings and change — talks of resolutions, better habits, better diets. I recently attended a webinar where we were working on manifestations for our new year, but before we began we reflected on the previous year.

We were encouraged to think about what made us happiest, what we were most proud of, and what lessons we learned. When I learned that my cancer journey was not over last February, it was debilitating. I felt paralyzed in a body that was not keeping up with my mind, my soul, my dreams.

As I pulled out my unfinished sashiko stitching project that I had stashed in a closet the previous year, I realized that I had been stashing parts of me away, as well. I have been scared so many times to try something new, to let myself be completely me, to fit a mold that was not right for me.

My cancer diagnosis forced me to slow down, step back, and give myself permission to be my most authentic self. It forced me to question why I was holding back — nothing is perfect, life can be messy, it can be uneven, but it can also be so beautiful and transformative.

While the photo above is a little goofy — I think it captures the pure joy I felt when I finished the sashiko pillow project. In that moment, I was so proud of what I had created.

I no longer held back out of disappointment for my uneven lines, or embarrassment of the dog hair that had been stitched in, or the fear of using a new machine to finish the project.

I have faced so many challenges in the last two years—I have had to fight through surgeries, chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and radiation treatments. These challenges have taught me to reflect on what I am most proud of and have forced me to accept myself for who I am, dog hair and all!

---

Sadly, my local craft store Fancy Tiger closed late last year, however if you are looking for some sashiko craft projects, check out Snuggly Monkey.

Make Your Own Recycled Seed Paper Gift Tags

Two years ago I traveled down to Ojo Caliente, a healing spa outside of Taos, New Mexico, to grapple with my breast cancer diagnosis. This past weekend, I went back down to close the circle of healing as I wrapped up the major milestones of my treatment. The first time I was there I went to a yoga class and was given a small plantable piece of paper to write my intention on. I carried that piece of paper with me throughout the last two years and I returned it to be planted on Monday morning.

In a moment of kismet, as I finished opening the large stack of “Explanation of Benefits” documents from my radiation treatments and griping about how much paper was wasted by sending these documents, I stumbled on this beautiful reel. I decided I would try making my own seed paper and here is how you can make your own in five simple steps.

Step 1 — Gather Your Supplies

• Old Paper

  • This could be junk mail, newsprint, or any other paper.

• Wildflower Seeds

  • I picked native Colorado seeds for the bees and the butterflies.

• Cookie Cutters

• Craft Blender

  • Do not use the same blender you use for your food, I’d recommend heading to the thrift store and picking one up.

• Towel

Step 2 — Soak the Paper

Tear up your recycled paper into smaller strips or squares, place in a ball jar, and fill with water. Soak for a minimum of 2 hours or overnight.

Step 3 — Blend the Pulp

Dump the paper into a craft blender and blend the paper into pulp.

Step 4 — Make the Tags

Lay out a towel, place your cookie cutter down on the towel, grab a handful of pulp and push the pulp down into the shape. Use another towel or sponge to soak up the excess water, sprinkle some wildflower seeds on top and gently tamp them down. Carefully move the tag to a cooling rack and let it dry overnight, mine were a little thick, so they took a couple days. Repeat this step until you are out of pulp and have a handful of gift tags.

Step 5 — Punch and String

Once the tags are dry, punch a hole in them and pick your favorite ribbon or string to give them a festive touch. I love using Studio Carta’s ribbon.

Now, enjoy wrapping with your handmade tags and gifting a little more joy this year!

---

If you make your own recycled seed paper gift tags, please send along a photo or tag @craftingthroughcancer, I’d love to see what shapes you use and what you create!

Make Your Own Rose Bath Salts

I was never a big fan of taking baths, I don’t know if it’s because I swam for so much of my life and just sitting in the bath tub felt boring and uncomfortable. However, after I got cancer, baths became a wonderful new ritual for me. Especially after chemotherapy and the Neulasta shots — my bones and body would be in excruciating pain, and I would go sit in the tub, relax, and often times drift off to sleep.

After my mastectomy and reconstruction, I was sent so many beautiful floral arrangements. They always gave me a little boost of positivity. Early in my recovery process, I decided that I was going to dry all the roses I received and eventually make bath salts as a thank you to everyone who helped me a long the way. Well, almost two years later, just in time for the holidays, it is that time! Here is how you can make your own rose bath salts in three simple steps.

Step 1 — Gather the Supplies

• 1 cup Epsom Salts

• 1 cup Pink Salt

  • I used Peruvian pink salt because I had some, but you can also use Himalayan pink salt or you can just use 2 cups of Epsom Salts.

• 1/2 cup Crushed Rose Petals

  • You can crush the petals by hand, use a mortar and pestle, or a blender

  • Make sure to remove the stems before crushing the petals, once the roses are dry, they can easily be pulled away from the petals.

• 1 tablespoon Carrier Oil

• 10 drops Essential Oils

  • I used a combination of Ylang Ylang, Lavender, and Chamomile

• Recycled Ball Jars

Step 2 — Make the Mixture

Stir salts, rose petals, and oils together in a large bowl, mixing well to combine.

Step 3 — Fill the Jars

Pour your mixture into the recycled Ball jars and store at room temperature. If you are gifting the salts, tie a ribbon and tag around them or make a handmade label.

Now, draw a hot bath, sprinkle the salts in the water, and relax!

---

If you make your own bath salts, please send along a photo or tag @craftingthroughcancer, I’d love to see what you create!

Make Your Own Citrus Garland

I always look forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving, it is a time to reflect on the last year, daydream about the year to come, and kick off watching all my favorite holiday movies. I am definitely feeling more festive this year and am excited to start some new traditions as I enter into a new chapter after two years of cancer treatments. Do you have any favorite holiday traditions?

I bought a large bag of mandarins the other week and could not eat them quick enough. Instead of tossing them out, I decided to make a dried citrus garland to decorate the house with. It added some welcome freshness to my dated holiday decorations! If you also have some extra citrus that is at risk of going bad, I would invite you to carve out some time of your own and make this beautiful garland in five simple steps.

Step 1 — Slice the Citrus

Slice the citrus into 1/4” thick slices. I cut up both lemons and mandarins — depending on the fruits, this can add different colors to your garland.

Step 2 — Dehydrate Your Slices

Preheat the oven to 200ºF and place the citrus slices on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake the slices for 2 hours, flip the slices over, and then bake for another 2 hours. The slices should feel hard with no liquid remaining, I placed my slices on a wire rack and let them dry out for an additional 2 days on the kitchen counter before I began stringing them up.

Step 3 — String the Garland

For my garland, I used a natural kitchen twine with copper thread to add some sparkle and a steel yarn needle to help poke a hole through the center of the slices. I spaced the slices 6” apart and after every third slice I added a star anise in. I love that it broke up the garland visually and provided a wonderful holiday scent as well.

This is where you can get creative — there are many ways that you can string your slices. You can use a colored thread, yarn, or ribbon and add other elements like beads, dried herbs, or cinnamon sticks. It is a great way to look around your spice cabinet or craft room and see what could be reimagined!

Step 5 — Hang your Garland

Hang it anywhere that will bring you and your space some festive joy. I wrapped mine around my Christmas tree.

Now, make a cup of hot cocoa, put on your favorite holiday music, and admire your results.

---

If you make your own garland, please send along a photo or tag @craftingthroughcancer, I’d love to see what you create! After the holidays, you can store your garland in an airtight container until next year or depending on what you used to accessorize the garland with, you can throw it in the compost bin and make a new one next year.

Upcycled Napkins

I will never forget my first day of chemotherapy. As my sister and I walked down the hallway, I crumbled at the sight of the infusion center. Up until that point I felt like I would be able to handle whatever was thrown my way, a defiant independence that I could do anything. When I walked into the infusion center I was hyper aware of everything around me, the smell, the bright lights, the terrible color and patterns on the vinyl chairs, the overly saturated nature photography… each object more and more overstimulating.

When the tech took my blood pressure, it was the highest it has ever been. They were not very kind and told me to “just relax”, which of course did not help. It took me a while to find my breath and start to relax as my sister calmly started breathing next to me. Shortly after, I would meet Maddie, my amazing nurse, who would kindly walk me through each step of the process, yet at each step she would remove an object from a plastic covering or toss something into the trash.

It horrified me at how much single-use plastic was being thrown away in the first twenty minutes of my six-hour long appointment. The whole appointment I was constantly in shock at how much trash I was producing. It caused me to spiral a little bit with darker questions — where does this waste go? how much waste is produced each day? is my life worth this waste production? All of which my sister ever so coolly told me to get over.

I know that some plastic waste is inevitable, especially when it comes to sterile environments. However, I have found a renewed sense of limiting my waste since that day and am finding new ways to recycle or upcycle objects that no longer are serving me.

A dear friend leant me her sewing machine over the summer when I had a project that called for some finishing touches. I had very minimal training up until that point, so she gave me a tutorial and some scrap fabric to practice on. She told me to make napkins, she said it’d be the easiest. After completing a set of four napkins to give back to her as a thank you, I realized how wonderful it felt to make something beautiful from scraps that could have easily been destined for the landfill.

I had my eleventh infusion last week, and as I sat there knitting and watching my other wonderful nurse, Jordan, move through the movements of prepping the supplies to access my port, I couldn’t help but think there has to be a better way for us to package medical supplies or for the hospitals to at least have a better way to sort plastic for recycling. We already know that microplastics are everywhere, so how can we minimize our use so that we can protect future generations from ingesting microplastics and keep them from sitting in terribly patterned vinyl chairs.

---

I really try to limit my waste. I compost, I recycle, I donate unused items, and most recently I signed up for Ridwell to help with my plastic waste. Are there other ways that you recycle or upcycle?

Cyanotype Prints

Andrew Garfield was recently interviewed on Modern Love, if you have not listened, I really encourage you to do so. They discuss the concept of time, The Ignatian Examen, and onism.

To simplify the Examen, it is a beautiful daily practice, where you reflect on your day and find moments where you were closest to God, whether that is to a spirit, being in nature, or simply being present. Then acknowledge those moments in your day where you could have been more aware, more present, more understanding and reflect on how you can be better the next day.

Have you ever had a day where you have felt completely present?

Three friends and I met at Bear Creek State Park for a cyanotype printmaking day. We prepped our paper and then headed out on a nature walk to find treasures for our prints. The walk felt healing. I was completely present in that moment — soaking in every detail of the walk, listening to the crunch of the rocks underneath our shoes, observing every detail on a leaf, carefully examining the structure of a seed pod. I was selecting each branch, leaf, and flower with a careful awareness and unknowingly creating a rich bouquet of color and textures.

When we returned to our picnic table — we would carefully select pieces from our bouquets for our compositions. We would learn we would not be able to use every branch, leaf, and flower we had selected. We would have to choose. We would watch our pieces transform under the sun’s magic and come to life through the power of water. This process felt so simple, so pure.

If I could have bottled up that day, I would have. I would have done anything to keep the sun’s warmth on my cheeks, to simplify each day to the beauty of that one, and for my heart to be that present and full. However, as Andrew Garfield wisely said:

“The problem is you can’t hold on to anything. It’s, it’s all letting go …. This life is all a letting go.”

After getting home that evening, full of energy, full of life. I received terrible news about a very close family member. It shook me and given that I was in the midst of radiation treatments, I would not be able to physically go say goodbye. It was a heartbreaking position for me to find myself in and I was quickly pulled out of that present moment and reminded of my frustration on being stuck in my body.

I was not able to say goodbye in person, and yet I had to force myself to let go of that desire to physically be there, at that moment in time. I was there spiritually. I was there emotionally. And, in essence, I would be there presently.

---

If you want to make your own cyanotype prints, you can pick up Jaquard Cyanotype Sensitizer Sets at your local art store or order them online.

Origami Cranes

A few months ago, I found myself in Phoenix at the Mayo Clinic, for an unrelated reason to my own personal health. The chaplain there, while making an origami crane for me, shared a beautiful metaphor for the paper’s transformation. His story has continued to stay with me and I hope it brings you as much peace as it has brought me.

He said we all start as a blank, flat sheet of paper, pristine and unaware of what is to come. While the paper is being folded, from the paper’s perspective it has no idea what is happening. The paper just knows that it is no longer as flat as it once was.

While the paper is going through this process, the paper doesn’t see it, and it is uneasy. But, the master is carefully making every line.

Every line has a purpose. No line is done by mistake.

Even though in the middle of the process everything looks completely different, the form begins to change. Just as we believe our lives should be a certain way, we are not in control, and unknowingly, we are turning into something beautiful. When everything is done, the paper is no longer a flat shape, but a little dimensional bird, ready to take flight.

When we have hope, we have so much freedom.

The chaplain makes an origami crane a day, to give to patients and their families with the intention that even in challenging moments, we can always have hope, and therefore we can always have our freedom.

A couple weeks after, to honor this beautiful practice, my parents and I made our own origami cranes, and that morning allowed ourselves to be healed through imagination and brighter skies ahead. I hope today, especially today, we all can find a little more hope.

I will be forever grateful for my green crane and the message that it holds.

---

Origami paper can usually be found at your local art store. If you are in Denver, I recommend Meininger’s. This great YouTube tutorial shows you an easy step-by-step process to make your own origami crane.

Knit Baby Blanket

PART TWO

As I embarked on my last trip with the bitter news that the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes, I felt numb. I felt like I was living that scene in a movie where I was static in front of the frame, frozen, and the world around me was rushing ahead, moving forward, and on. It was so painful to know the promise I had been holding on to, looking forward to, would be delayed, again.

I went from doctor appointments to doctor appointments in a familiar fog. I had been here before. I spoke with surgeons, oncologists, and radiation oncologists ad nauseam. When I asked about how this would effect having a baby, my oncologists would ask if I had taken steps to preserve my eggs. They would show excitement in their eyes and tell me they were thrilled with my “numbers”, but the words from my fertility specialist haunted me — you don’t have enough.

There was a cold sweat that came over me, I became stressed at the thought, did I have enough?

In a very fucked up way, I felt grateful that my first diagnosis was already in the midst of the fertility process. I cannot imagine receiving this diagnosis and then having to think about preserving your fertility. My heart goes out to you if it has. Just the phone calls to the nurses and the financial department, made my blood pressure go up and reminded me — I had had enough of this process and I had enough.

I searched for answers. I searched for some resolve. I searched for healing. When I realized I would have to do chemotherapy treatments, I decided I was going to knit through my grief and knit a blanket for my future child. I reached out to a friend of mine who has knit beautiful baby blankets for all of our friends’ kids and she sent me some ideas.

I selected an easy baby blanket not knowing how much brain power I would have in the infusion chair. I realized quickly that it was too hard to focus with the Benadryl and Zofran coursing through my body. However, on the days that I was feeling better I would curl up with my pup, put on a trashy TV show, and knit. I savored these moments and days — there was a sense of peace, a sense of hope, and a sense of resolve.

I cast off the last stitches as I learned that I had no residual cancer cells, my body had taken to the chemotherapy treatment. I felt a sense of calm wash over me knowing that this piece of my treatment was done, the blanket was ready, and the future felt a little bit brighter. I will remain cautiously optimistic that a year from now I will be able to get pregnant and in two years from now, I will remain ever hopeful that I get to wrap my beautiful baby up in this blanket.

For now, it will be folded neatly and packed away safely, patiently waiting for the right time.

---

Want to knit your own baby blanket? Purl Soho has a ton of great patterns. If you are new to knitting they have a great collection of how-to video tutorials, as well.

If you have been diagnosed with cancer and are planning to go through CCRM for any fertility services, they offer 25% off Fertility Treatments with their Oncofertility discount. Be sure to ask about it because they do not provide this information readily.

Knit Baby Blanket

PART ONE

I have always wanted to be a mother. I can remember the first time it sunk in—I was in middle school and there was a parent/teacher function where, we, the older kids, were tasked with watching the younger ones while they met. A tiny baby girl was placed in my arms and in that moment, holding this precious sleeping child, I looked forward to the day when I would hold my own baby.

My life has taken several twists and turns since that moment and has rarely gone according to the vision I saw when I was 12 years old. There have been beautiful things that I never imagined would happen and dreams that I have let go, but my desire to have my own child has never waivered.

In the summer of 2022, I decided that I was going to go through the process of preserving my eggs. As I began to go through the IVF process, my primary care physician recommended that I get a mammogram, earlier than forty, because of my family history with breast cancer. The earliest I could get in for a mammogram was at the end of September, I scheduled the appointment and thought very little of it.

That year was my busiest year since starting my own business — the summer was full of concerts, project openings, work travel, board meetings, and I would get COVID for the first time which would impact my first egg retrieval. Despite being four weeks past the initial symptoms, and without any lingering, and after a week of giving myself fertility shots, the retrieval was cancelled because I was still testing positive. So much has happened since that time, but it is amazing to remember the protocols we all had to follow then and have seemingly so quickly gone away.

The setback really took its toll on me emotionally. I was pumped with hormone drugs, I was emotionally distraught on having to go through this alone, and I was taking on a huge financial responsibility especially as a single, self-employed business owner with limited health insurance options. And yet, I powered on. My retrieval was rescheduled to September and I would get enough “numbers” for almost one child and I would be told if I wanted a full one or even two, I would need to do another retrieval.

Three weeks later, I would have the mammogram that changed my life and my follow-up appointment with the fertility specialist.

I would move from doctor appointment to doctor appointment in a fog. How was this happening to me? Why was this happening to me? I had big plans, I had a vision, I was in the midst of planning my future… instead I was now struggling with what treatment I was going to pick and asking my surgeon to write me a letter so I could get my second retrieval done before I started any treatments. It was chaotic. It was stressful. My second retrieval gave me good “numbers” again, and yet, despite what I was told at the beginning of the IVF process it still wasn’t enough for the fertility specialist, but it would have to be enough.

If it wasn’t for the foresight of my primary care physician, I would be in a very different place right now. She saved my life. I had no indication that anything was wrong. I did not feel a lump. I did not feel sick. I will forever be grateful for her.

My oncologist told me after my mastectomy, which promised a clear pathology, I would need to wait a full year before I could get pregnant. In the year that followed, I started to dream about what all this meant. I let go of my 12-year-old vision to have a nuclear family, it did not seem to be in the cards and I made plans to become a single mother by choice. I would embark on three months of travel and respite, my Eat, Pray, Love moment, and when I returned I would start the process of becoming a mother.

That timing would not be in the cards for me either…

---

In the months after starting chemotherapy, I learned about a few opportunities for grants, financial aid, and discounts for the fertility process with a cancer diagnosis.

Polite Tumor
Chick Mission
Baby Quest
CCRM
Alto
Walgreens

If you know of any other opportunities, please share. There is power in knowledge.