Midsommar... Solstice... it's all about partying with the Vitamin D

In Sweden, where most of my relatives live, Midsommar welcomes the summer. Families and friends come together for large celebrations, singing and dancing around maypoles, flowered wreaths in hair, special foods and drink, it lasts for two or three days, whole cities are empty, stores and businesses closed...AND that's the time of year when it is light for about 24 hours. It's a big deal. In Seattle, we have our own left-over pagan rituals: we go to the Fremont Solstice Parade.


This year they said there were upwards of 500 naked bicyclists. When I first moved here '96-ish, there were small bands of rogue naked bikers that would whiz! by in little packs as if they were out-running the cops, or the Naked Police, and everyone would clap and holler and they were always the unofficial kick-off to the parade. Organized in that subversive kind of vein. And they grew in number over the years. But I don't know if it was in reaction to the neighborhood changing from a hippie-artsy-funky part of Seattle into a condo-fied, frat-bar nightlife kinda place so that when a couple of years ago some people complained that somehow their little Johnnies and Suzies were being permanently scarred for life if they didn't cover their eyes from seeing some body-painted smiling granola girl with beautiful teets happily pedal by with long hair flying all around... if this wasn't the final straw and set off a backlash explosion of naked bikers this year? Or is the economy driving us to these liberating acts because it's cheap and easy? Or is it because we had a month long drought here, sunshine weather in the 70s-80s for days on end and we can't help but celebrate our great fortune while the east coast suffers in the cold rain? (Don't think we don't enjoy rubbing this in, oh we earn this!)

I'm with Johnny and Suzie on the life-scarring moments when the occasional hairy, white-fuzzy-woolly-mammoth-like, liver-spotted, usually wearing glasses for some reason, (much) older guy who is enjoying the freedom of his bike and open-air weenie a little too much cruises by; it is a bit much to take. Way too much "natural" human stuff going on there. But like anything in life, Little Johnny and Suzie, you've got to take the bad with the good. And this year their was so much good. The au naturals were few and far between, now everyone goes all out with the body paint and costumes. There were naked superheros, naked Adam & Eves, even a naked Sasquatch (perhaps my favorite), ladybugs, insects, a whole pack of maybe 50 people each painted a color of the rainbow, including neon colors. They went by, hundreds of them, I swear it took like five minutes for them all to pass. I was mesmerized. And obsessed with boobs.

The whole parade, I couldn't stop staring. I've been obsessed lately anyway, but going to a half-naked parade really ups the ante on my distraction. And then pile on the huge crowds of parade goers. Those breasts are all kinds of different shapes, sizes, proportions... and health. I wonder whose are totally "normal" and healthy. Who's had cancer. Whose are reconstructed. Who has a lump but has no idea yet. My friend April saw a brilliant t-shirt online that read: Of course my boobs are fake, my real ones tried to kill me -- whose are in the middle of attacking them right now, like mine.

I told my buddy Adam, "I just can't stop staring at every woman that passes by me these days...I can't stop!" We then immediately walked past the Nudist Camp Colony booth or something like that, with 4 or 5 of its members posing for photos. Some of the folks that belong to these nudist places are really not the same people that I happen to dream about sitting down to dinner naked with. These two women posing were really in that category for me. Adam said, "How about those? Can you stop staring at those?" "Yes. Yes. Yes, in fact those I can, Adam."

Look! It's my totally awesome friend and hair stylist extraordinaire, Angelo! He was the Queen Bee with his party of flamenco dancers and paper maiche Ferdinand the Bull that actually snorted out some sort of smoke. Bee's stinger is in his holster. (Note the half-finished condo project behind him that might get finished, and if so will definitely be rental units; the new look of Seattle's economy.)

A lot of people have commented to me on what is seemingly my good attitude about this Lump Stuff. I do need to keep my head above water, and the only survival skill I've ever known is to laugh my way back up to the surface and I can get through anything. But no need to worry, I am having my share of truly crappy, kicked in the gut, I'm pissed, Why Me?? moments.

Friday I had to make I don't even know how many calls to line up all my next appointments when I needed to be working. It exhausted me beyond belief. Even just speaking on the phone to the receptionist at a plastic surgeon's (who a friend told me looks like a 60-year-old Cat Woman, I can't wait to meet her) put me into a tailspin when she filled me in on some super important info about a misconception I had about lumpectomies... and after hanging up proceeded to have a 15-minute crying jag in our work parking area. All I was trying to do was make an appointment. (She had also stopped mid-sentence at some point and said,

--How you doin', Hon?
--What?
--How are you doing?
--Me? Uh, I'm ok. I'm just ...really... tired.
--Oh, Hon ... you sound tired...
--Uh... uh...sniff sniff sniff... (meekly) I am... thank you. sob sob sob...)

That just set the tone for the rest of the day so that whenever I saw a gum wrapper on the ground or heard a bird chirping or looked at my bitten nails, the more random the better -- a surge of uncontrollable tears just poured out. All weekend. And part of this morning when I walked into the Cancer Library at Swedish. So if anyone is concerned, rest assured I am spending some really great quality time being absolutely miserable. Hope that helps.


But then... I have these wonderful distractions with friends, like Solstice! I love a parade. Look above here. Look at these beautiful works of art coming. One blog down the road is going to feature just them. I was stunned, inspired, and taken out of our earthly realm when they circled by. Giant dresses all made out of PAPER. They were amazing. More later.

Celebrating the glorious sun, the solstice. Celebrating that incredible, fiery source of Vitamin D. Of which one lab report said that I was ridiculously, abysmally deficient of. I had just started taking D a few months ago. Even that was a joke apparently if you look at my numbers.

A breast cancer surgeon told me Washington State is ranked third highest in the country in breast cancer diagnosis. There are some theories. One is that the Pacific Northwest is one of the areas of our country that is most deficient in vitamin D. We're also a highly educated population so perhaps we know to get screened often. And particularly in Seattle, many women wait until much later in life to have children which they know causes a higher chance of having breast cancer than someone who has children earlier. (Note: I don't pretend to ever have any facts right. And maybe I misquoted her. I'm way too tired tonight to double check this. Aren't blogs the last place to go for correct facts anyway??)

I celebrated Vitamin D this weekend. Tomorrow I am meeting with a Naturopath/MD to figure out what my new dosage will be. Among a whole bunch of other things that will help me get to a healthier place when this is over...and feeling closer to the sun hopefully...