Sewing, Part 1: Why do I sew?
Two reasons: permanent pain and dogs…
How sewing helps with chronic pain
Ok, so with over 20 years’ experience as an academic, let’s consider this empirically. There have been various studies in the last decade or so that suggest how sewing reduces stress hormones, such as cortisol and adrenaline. (Some are collated here.)
Given the repetitive nature of the act of sewing, its links to a meditative state ensures it increases your dopamine levels, thereby boosting your happiness and ability to relax. Since chronic pain is exacerbated by muscle tension, and stress can alter our pain thresholds, any activity that reduces both stress and muscle tension can only be a good thing.
Projects, by way of example, at The University of Bristol and Harvard University reveal how the arts, more widely, are highly successful in supporting pain management.
Don’t get me wrong: sewing, as well as knitting and painting, doesn’t get rid of my pain. It’s permanent. I’m 54 and it’s been permanent since I was in my early 20s. But what it does do is give me the dopamine boost I need to ignore it. The act of creating has me focusing on that very act, not the kicking and screaming of my abdomen, now couple with arthritis. I cope better. I feel better. (My mother swore by knitting to fend off arthritis debilitation, and she knitted well into her late 80s. Her eyes failed her so she couldn’t see to sew past 80 but she kept on knitting. I was always amazed by how youthful her hands looked.)
And what’s the cause of my pain? Predominantly, a rare form of endometriosis, where it spreads in the body. Even weirder: it continues, even after a hysterectomy. I also have Raynauld’s Syndrome, interstitial cystitis, and arthritis. It got really bad when I was 26 and gave my kidneys a really good kicking. In a way, I’m glad it did, since they finally worked out why I was in so much pain.
Prior to then I’d collapse and end up in hospital time and again, only to be told it was just ‘girly’ pain and to deal with it. When they realized the source: bottles of morphine to put in the fridge. Yep, it was that bad, and no one had taken me seriously for years.
As a child, at around 12, I summoned up the courage to ask to see a doctor about my pain. It may have been the early 1980s but it may has well have been the sixteenth century. I’ll never forget the doctor telling me it was because I was a female and… “the price of original sin”. Huh? In the days before the internet, it took me a while to figure out what that one meant. Mum just said it was a pain I needed to live with. Looking back - and mum never discussed health with us (that generation) - I’m sure mum had it too. In her later years she described similar symptoms.
Any student - in all my time as a university lecture - who mentioned comparable pain always got the offer of a sit-down chat and help on how to approach the topic with any doctor. Such levels of pain are not normal and need investigating. Even post-hysterectomy I had a hospital doctor tell me my spike in pain was '“just the price of being a woman.” “Honey, I don’t have a uterus. Try again…”
I used to sew as a child. At the age of 13 we were expected to make our own school uniform. A girls’ school. I hated it, I mean really hated it. But I loved the sewing, and mum helped me at home and I nailed it. When my right kidney went crazy at age 26, and I took two years off sick, to get the pain under control, I looked for all sorts of ways I could help reduce the pain, rather than take masses of opiates every day. It’s not exactly easy to function that way.
It took me a long time to figure out what to do but Pain Clinic one week suggested doing stuff with your hands to reduce the impact pain had on you. It was a revelation. I started doing some embroidery, which I hadn’t done in years, and it was like a massive hit of dopamine. I’ve been hooked on all sorts of sewing ever since.
In lockdown, I dug my sewing machine out and got going. I made around 3000 masks (with filters) that I gave away for free, and, during the second lockdown, I opened my little Etsy shop, called Cotswolds Designs (not least because I’d been made redundant and we had Errol to look after). I’ve now just moved across to my own website. Thanks for joining me here.
Sewing for dogs
(I was sent this sweet image ages ago and genuinely don’t know who to credit for it. If you know, please do let me know. Thanks.)
On to my second reason then: my two disabled rescue dogs, and rescue dogs more widely. Both dogs have insurance, and both have significant health issues. Many of these health issues have been diagnosed since they came to us, and much of what has to be managed is covered by that insurance. But the specialist food, supplements, and some drugs are not. So I need to ensure I have that money every month. So I sew and sell handmade items to ensure that they always have what they need. They are my world (and my husband too, obviously)!
I also sell items to help support the Dog Meat Trade Dachshund Rescue charity. This is the charity that saved Chance. They are real-life heroes. Do check out their Facebook page too, where they auction items to support their work, and provide details on ways you can get involved to help save dachshunds from horrific conditions abroad.
Ok, that’s enough from me for now! Below are a few images of items I’ve made and sold. Enjoy your day!
