The phone rang as just as I entered the house, the phone call every woman dreads–from the mammogram clinic. My heart plummeted as I waited to hear what she had to say–but the caller was chuckling, so my panic lessened.–a bit. “Are you aware that you have a sewing needle in your left breast?” she asked. Well— NO ! ! ! I wasn’t aware. Nothing hurt. I hadn’t felt a needle poking me. How in the world did it get there? I laughingly rejoined: ” If anyone is going to have a needle there I am the likely candidate. I have devoted my life to needlework!”
My friends had lots of ideas –and jokes– about this condition. But no, I don’t stitch in bed (everyone’s first theory on how it got there) I don’t even stitch in my nightgown. I never pin a needle into my clothing–that’s what magnets are for. But that got my local stitch group to thinking–maybe I had a crewel 8 needle (for that’s what it was) parked on a magnet, and turned the canvas around, and tucked it up against my body right under my breast. And then the needle somehow worked its way into my breast. That seemed to be the most likely scenario, so now it’s my story and I’m sticking to it!
Caela Tyler, always quick with the quips, called to say I was the only one with needlework shrapnel! Debbie Stiehler, also a jokester, asked to have the doctor check for the scissors she lost when sitting next to me in a class last year. My lifelong friend Mary Kay said she knew needlework was close to my heart, but this was ridiculous. A girl at the gym suggested I tell the TSA people at the airport that it was where I kept my spare. The woman who called from the local radio station wanted to know if I kept a thimble in there, too. Nanette Mathe wondered if this was a strategy to take a needle with me when I die. My nephew presented me with a pillow that says: “Real women don’t use pin cushions”.
I am probably the only patient who went to the breast surgeon laughing. She laughed, too, as did her receptionist who could hardly contain her mirth as she booked the OR for my surgery. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack,” she chortled.
Well, the needle has been removed in a surgical procedure just like a lumpectomy. And I’m being very careful from now on; I refuse to be a human needle cushion any longer. As Mary Ann Jones noted: “Stitchers should always use a purchased frame weight–not the ones nature gave you.”
About Gail
Gail Carolyn Sirna is a well known certified embroidery teacher & judge from Rochester, Michigan. She has been teaching needlearts for over 30 years. She has also completed her Honors research with NAN, and is author of a book In Praise of the Needlewoman: Embroiderers, Knitters, Lacemakers, and Weavers in Art.
Gail is a former Great Lakes Region Director, and is a past chairman of EGA’s Certified Teacher Graduate Program. She currently serves NAN as its Treasurer. Gail regularly exhibits her work, and has won many ribbons throughout the country.
There is an on-line show of her wonderful work at the NAN site. My favorite piece of hers is the second “Birds of Missouri,” which is just magnificent.
