Costume Fun with a Chronic Illness

My last several posts have had at least mentions of the fact that I have severe endometriosis, and have had several surgeries related to it in the last two years. I have talked about the impacts that the illness, treatments, and procedures have had on my life. As it stands, I am currently taking a break from pursuing my fashion degree, had to go from a pretty decent job to one that pays less but are more than willing to work with my physical capabilities, and came very close to backing out of the Summer in the City show back in June (I didn't). I also have had to pass or cancel on other events due to my health, including joining my husband for the annual SeaDog Nights and Gypsy Carnival pirate festival in Lebanon, Oregon, this past July. Being several months past surgery, being on a harsh treatment for the endometriosis, the nerve/back pain that forced me to leave my job...we just didn't think the time was right. 2016 is my year, though, starting with Matt wanting to treat a related event in March as my debutante ball.

One of my biggest obstacles with this, however, is costuming. I've already been having to deal with the pain in the ass of costuming while having issues with my weight. But now I have to figure in bloating, back/hip pain, swelling, medications, even surgery. Even now, eight months after surgery, certain items of clothing get worn rarely or not at all because they sit uncomfortably on one of my incision sites, and the nerve endings have yet to return normal feeling to my lower abdomen. I discovered at a friend's Halloween wedding that my underbust corset was the only thing keeping me standing without having to resort to a cane. Oh, and then there's the occasional need to use a cane now. Leggings and loose tops have become wardrobe staples. Heels can't be worn for very long if I'm constantly on the move. But there aren't many resources out there for cosplaying while broken. I mean, there's this one chick who's been putting herself out there, but how she addresses having to work her costumes around tubes and a wheelchair doesn't necessarily reflect how I need to address my own needs. I've already decided to work with higher waistlines to accommodate my belly on crappy days, but will still work with belts and corsets. I'm looking at designing my corsets to be adjustable to my abdominal status at the time of wear. Sleeves and skirts will have to be able to be restrained in the event I need to bust out the cane. And then there's the cane. The one I bought from the store for fifteen bucks to help me get back on my feet faster after my latest surgery certainly isn't piratey or steampunky, nor is it portable for when it's not in use, but on-hand just in case. I need to work in a way to have my pain meds on me and be able to safely take them when needed. I may look at maternity fashion in the 18th and 19th centuries for ideas, too.

I will, of course, share my findings and results here. And any suggestions are more than welcome.

A girl and her car (and still a better love story than Twilight)

This is my Ninja Babe (derived from letter combinations in the VIN). She was my first car. We've been through a lot together in eight years. We've been throughout Washington and Oregon together. She's seen home and employment changes, snow and ice storms, trips to the vet (cats), lots of time at various human medical facilities, and now even has a kid who tells his auntie when it's time to clean her car. We've participated in fashion and burlesque shows. She even broke down on me in the middle of the night, in melting snow, in a small town off a back road highway. She's been broken into, hit by unknown assailants in parking lots, rear ended by over-eager people in drive-thrus, and vandalized with messages and mashed potatoes. Bitch even burned me.

Waiting for a tow truck when it's been snowing is a bitch.

I still don't know.

\m/

College kids threw mashed potatoes on my car.

From the radiator. Because I apparently AM capable of being a dumbass.

An amazing child who has given my life new meaning. <3

We've had our bad times. She was there when dire circumstances forced me to give up some of my cats. She's taken me to the hospital when only morphine would help. She's seen some of the rockiest points in my marriage. And I have a love/hate relationship with her. She's 23. This means parts aren't as easy or cheap to come by. Especially since she's a BMW. She requires repairs and maintenance more often than her newer counterparts. But I love my M3 taillights, my aftermarket headlights, and my Magnaflow. And I love how even with everything that's wrong with her, she's still there for me. She just keeps on going.

And that's what brings me to the reason why I'm writing this. After all, I'm pretty sure no one really cares about my car nearly as much as I do. But look at her. She's worn, chipped, rusted, falling apart. Parts of her are MacGuyvered (like the screwdriver in my battery). I have three different rims. One of my front blinkers is held in place with a Toothless bandaid and duct tape. My interior is destroyed. But these are things that I've discovered that I love about her.

I've heard that cars--like pets--tend to have the personality traits of their owners. Look at me. I'm a mess. I have an incurable chronic illness that requires lots of medical attention. I have chronic pain in my nerves and joints that is continuing to worsen. I've had two surgeries, and will have more. At 32, I'm worn out, busted, broken, falling apart. Yet I just keep going. Ninja Babe and I are one and the same. I will be incredibly emotional when we finally part. My husband likes to say that she's his car, I'm just the only one who can legally drive her. But I'd have to say that she is definitely MY car (even if the disabled veteran plates are his!).