Local Knitted Knockers Project Offers Handmade Breast Cancer Comfort

Chloe Forbes

Terri Dewey spearheads the local chapter of the national group Knitted Knockers, volunteer knitters who create and distribute handmade breast prostheses to patients healing from mastectomy or lumpectomy.

Hats, scarves, mittens, and … knockers? It's peak knitting season, and Terri Dewey is hoping to give breast cancer survivors a lift — physically and mentally. Dewey is a knitter and distributor of knitted knockers, handmade knitted breast prostheses for women who have had breast cancer and underwent a mastectomy or lumpectomy. Dewey's connection to the cause is one close to home.

"I wish I would've known back when my mom had breast cancer," she said. "She didn't want a [traditional] prosthetic because she was small-breasted, so she used a sock. My dad used to tease her and say, 'You're acting like a teenager again, stuffing a sock in your bra.'"

Then, she watched as her close childhood friend fell victim to breast cancer in her mid-40s. "So I'm doing this in their memory," Dewey affirmed.

The company is a national one, and Dewey is just one of many volunteers who knits knockers. Dewey is also one of three distributors in the state, operating out of her hometown in Corry. In February, she took two boxes of knockers to UPMC Hamot Magee Women's Clinic and to Bayview Breast Care Office.

She laid out her yarns, showing that the knockers must be knit with certain types to ensure they are soft, long-lasting, stretchy, etc. Traditional prostheses are silicone, very hot, heavy, and sticky. They also typically require special bras or camisoles with pockets, and women can't wear them for weeks following surgery.

Knitted knockers provide a light but natural-feeling alternative that can be used immediately, and they are completely free to breast cancer survivors. Dewey said she knits because she wants to help survivors regain a bit of normalcy in their lives after having little control throughout their cancer journey. Especially since breasts are something that is inherently a part of one's womanhood.

Photo: Chloe Forbes

"It's really soft and feels like your own breast in some ways, more so than the heavy medical prosthetics," Dewey said. "If you've had your breast removed and are flat on one side and not the other, or you're completely flat when you used to be busty, I would imagine that would be very difficult, and your self-confidence would be really challenged."

Dewey's mother taught her how to knit at a young age, and she would often knit different items that her father would then take to the Soldiers and Sailors Home. Even now, she works at the Veterans Affairs office and knits for the veterans who brave tough winters.

Dewey, now 64, lost her friend around 17 years ago to breast cancer. "I'm a nurse, so I did home health, and she called me to tell me they had found a lump," she explained. "That lump was not invasive, but in the other breast, it was already invasive, so it had already spread, but she didn't have any symptoms on that side that she could feel." After her friend's surgery and treatment, she showed her support by washing her friend's hair because, after surgery, patients can't raise their arms or get their bandages wet. So Dewey got an inflatable tool that could be used with a sink to wash hair.

Dewey had moved away to Wisconsin for a while when she got the call that her friend was having some hip pain. The doctor wasn't familiar with her history of breast cancer and started doing therapy, only to find out the hip had been eaten away by cancer that had spread.

She was doing chemo every three weeks to keep it at bay, "but it was taking over."

At the funeral, Dewey watched her friend — known for her incredible generosity — be laid to rest as her young teenage daughters watched their mother for the last time. "It was a tough funeral," Dewey recalled.

According to the American Cancer Society (ACS), there's a 1 in 8 chance a woman will develop breast cancer in the United States. The ACS also estimates about 42,250 women will die from breast cancer this year. ACS states that breast cancer accounts for 30% of new female cancer diagnoses each year, and it does not discriminate.

Knitted knockers come in all colors and sizes to meet all the criteria a woman may have. As of August, there have been 879,125 knockers distributed through the organization Dewey knits for.

She began really getting into it last fall and said she was hesitant about becoming a distributor — someone who knits knockers, stuffs already-knitted knockers, and delivers them to clinics in need.

"I'd been hem-hawing around, unsure I wanted to dive right in, and said 'I'm going to do it.' I told my husband, 'I want something to do. I have a little more than two years before I retire from work, I don't just want to sit around and do nothing. I want to be productive," she said. "I have a talent, I enjoy doing this, and it's going to help someone else."

Photo: Chloe Forbest

She picks up her knitting here and there while watching TV or while her husband drives them to church. "I have a sweatshirt that says, 'If I can't take my yarn, I'm not going,'" she said with a laugh.

Just in September, Dewey began a knitting club that meets at Corry Public Library every third Tuesday of the month. She said it's not knockers-specific, but anyone is welcome to come and try their hand at it or learn how to knit.

"I'm no expert at teaching, but I can help you through, and if you can watch a YouTube video, you can learn a lot on those," she said.

For those who already know how to knit, Dewey said the pattern is very forgiving, and it requires the basics — knit, purl, increase, and decrease. The patterns and a tutorial exist online at knittedknockers.org. That's also where breast cancer survivors can go to order free knockers. The next couple of knitting club meet-ups will be 6:30 to 7:30 p.m. Oct. 15 and Nov. 19 at Corry Public Library, 117 W. Washington St., Corry.

Chloe Forbes is a local journalist and avid knitter. Reach her at chloeforbes14@gmail.com.