First off, I would like to thank my dad for the beautiful letter he wrote for the blog. From the beginning of this unexpected journey I said that only good and love were going to come from this and, as you can read, that is true.
Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone who has written me in the last month. Since returning to work I haven't had as much time to respond to your each of your notes in a timely manner. Please know that you are in my thoughts and I will write you soon.
Thirdly, I'd like to thank the person who has sent me the mystery subscription to "Glamour" magazine. Each month I have been keeping up on the lastest fashion and make-up trends and doing my darndest to keep off the "Glamour Don't" pages.
And last but never least, I'd like to thank Janis for writing the last post for me. We've both had challenging weeks with the news and her willingness to step in has been most appreciated.
I didn't feel I was in a place to write as I've been going through some of stages of grief I had not yet passed through on this journey. The news of the last couple weeks has made for brief lay-overs in Sadness and Anger. They're not bad places to visit though the people are a little remote and the food is a bit bland, but I sure wouldn't want to live there.
Two weeks ago I had a whopper of a Thursday. The results of a baseline CT scan showed two unidentified spots, one on my lung and one on my liver, as well as an ovarian cyst. What the heck?! It was supposed to be a baseline and everyone knows that baseline means clear! At least, that was what I thought. Of course, baseline means where you're at right then but in my mind it meant we would just be seeing cool pictures of my heart and lungs.
And, just prior to that appointment, I'd found out that I fall into the category of 'high risk for recurrence'. What the heck, I say? What the heck?! That is not what I wanted to nor was ready to hear. I've done everything I've been told to do- how could that be high risk? Unfortunately, having eleven of twenty-one nodes involved is too many to fall into a lower risk category.
It has been a lot to process. Nothing about my life is high risk so why should this cancer be? I might just have to take up extreme sports to show this cancer who's the boss... ooh... hmmm, sports... that's never been my gig. Extreme vocals or theatrics would suit my strengths better. Oh yeah, here we go: with the help of my theatrical friends I could do a performance art piece that would leave this cancer begging for an intermission! And that never happens in performance art.
So, that news coupled with the spots on my lung and liver- two of the three places breast cancer likes to migrate to- was too much to take in for one day. In case anyone is wondering, yes, you can still get radiation treatment while you're crying. The radiation beam is so focused that it's not like standing in an electrical storm with an umbrella or golf club.
At this point in time my radiologist said he's not concerned about the spot on my lung as half the people in the Midwest, if they had a scan, would have a spot on their lung. Why, you ask? Because, as my dear friend Renee's family was fond of saying, there's a fungus among us! Up here on the the tundra there's a fungus that causes scar tissue to form, unbeknownst to those of us who live here, until we have a scan.
He also said that the spot on my liver looks, because of its color, benign. Both of these spots are so small that there is no other test that can be done to determine exactly what they are so, in three months, I will have another CT scan to monitor their progress. You can imagine that, adding to the breast scans that I will have regularly for the next five-plus years, another test every three months is not really high on my list of 'things to do'.
The one thing we were able to run another test for was the ovarian cyst. Two weeks ago I had an ultrasound which Jan and I found out that Thursday was inconclusive. So, to follow up that very afternoon they sent me for an abdominal MRI. Janis came back with me again the next day for those results which were also inconclusive.
At this point I'm feeling like I must be from Mars, or at least the cyst is from Mars, because they cannot identify it. What do you mean it can't be identified? All three three types of imaging that can be taken- CT, ultrasound and MRI- have been done and none of those can help identify it? Please repeat with me: What the heck?!
It seems to me that we're playing that child's card game where you keep looking for the sets: the guy with the beard and hat, the grandma with the glasses and bonnet, the kid with the freckles and beanie. Only in this deck it's all different kinds of cysts and mine doesn't have a match. Oh, who likes this stupid game anyway?!!
I say that because next the option to get the best look at it is to do it the old-fashioned way: to remove it. Where is Doctor Spock when you need him?! We've come to discover that ovaries aren't biopsied (you wouldn't want a trail of unidentified cells out and floating about freely in your abdomen), they're taken out. So that, potentially, mean another surgery when I'm done with radiation.
For those of you keeping up with the hair front, it is indeed growing back. In the two months since the last chemo treatment I have grown a downy soft three-quarters of an inch which thickly covers my head. People who see it comment on its unexpected shimmery fawn color as well as the lovely shape of my head. We'll try to get a photo up here soon so you can all see for yourselves.
It continues to be an unexpected journey, this. And though at times my strength has diminished, my faith in the process has wavered and my trust is nowhere to be found I am continually astonished that offered, again and again, are reminders that my friends and family have strength, faith and trust enough to carry us through.
I hope in this season of hope and joy that you're able to find the peace that it offers as well. Wishing you a beautiful holiday-
Love, Karen
Friday, December 14, 2007
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Proof Positive
From the beginning of this unplanned journey, Karen has said “Only good can come from this.” Prior to the surgery it seemed entirely plausible too. But there have been days since when it has been more challenging to believe this. Karen was having one of these days on Thursday when she asked me to write a blog entry this weekend. “I am not in the frame of mind to do it myself right now,” she said. Admittedly, I understood that frame of mind too, but I would do whatever I could to help my sister wage this war.
So I sat down this evening to write. I went to re-read Karen’s last post, but noticed instead that yesterday Dad quietly posted a comment to that post andI began reading there instead. By the time I reached the end, I knew who would be authoring this entry and once again had proof that “Only good can come from this.”
Anonymous said... December 07, 2007 4:00 PM
Hovering is not lurking. When one hovers, he holds the very large blanket of love. This very large blanket covers multitudes of people who come from all areas of the country. The blanket is heavy as well as being large. The blanket must continually be moved to ensure that it fully covers my beautiful daughter. This daughter is Karen Lynn Kelley. She is absolutely the best. This is a very proud parent, her father, who will give a glowing account of the journey.
A dad, a father, is a person who loves his family, especially his children. As a father, I have a very special spot for my girls. Girls represent many things that are the opposite of myself; i.e., soft, sweet, tender, dainty, pretty, good smelling, energetic, smart and lovable. I have come to gain a new and beautiful understanding of my daughter Karen. This new vision has opened my eyes to a side of Karen that I had failed to recognize. She has always had a smile that could light up a room and melt a glacier. This I know. What I am now realizing is that she has great strength, amazing in quantity and endurance. How could I not have known? I watched her grow and mature and yet my eyes must have been covered. Now I am able to see much better because I have taken the time to really listen and observe.
This awesome Karen knows how to always give her best. Never anything less that 110 per cent in all activities she undertakes. I watched her in the leading role in "The King and I" and it was amazing and beautiful....the pride and admiration was really there for me and so many others. Proof positive of ability combined with 110 per cent professional performance. This is the way she goes about life.
Another attribute that had come to my attention recently is Karen's unending concern for others. She will always ask friends how they are doing, what is going on in their lives and when they speak, she listens so intently and with much empathy. She always offers positive advice on situations presented to her by friends and family.
Karen has many talents. I did not know that she was such a good writer. I read the blog entries and am really impressed with her ability to put her thoughts into words. Awesome, just awesome! But this is only one area of her expertise. Karen is not the type of person to show up anyone else. In fact, she downplays her own talents. This is her style, and boy do I admire her for doing it "her way"! Karen has a certain way in dealing with people that elevates that person and brings out the very best in that person. Only positive people can elicit such responses in others.
And what about the strength of the bond between Karen and her sister, Janis. These two women contain so many skills, techniques, wisdom and respect that it is difficult to hide my pride in this pair of children. These daughters form a pair which is best described as inseparable. When watching them solve problems or order a basket or box of vegetables, it becomes very evident that this bond is the real thing. Nothing could make a father prouder or happier than to see how successful your daughters have become. Here is that pride again, justified, I'm sure.
Friends are so important and so priceless. All Karen's friends help in so many ways. Each friend helps me move that very large blanket of love around. You know who we are showering with love.
As we move forward on this journey, we have a lot to be thankful for: THE PLAN...it is the very best and it will be successful. THE MEDICAL TEAM...all of them are the very best. THE FAMILY...John, Margaret, Karen, Janis, Kyle all on the same page, all with a single goal in mind. We can do this! Who always uses this ditty and who first coined it---I guess you know! Karen. Her strength and commitment are unwavering. I never, ever knew about this side of her. She makes others around her so much stronger. She never gives less than her best and always brings out the best in anyone around her.
The voice of the family, friends and caring others in one loud, solid voice all say "we will kick this dirty little tumor into oblivion". Having the attitude that we will not let up until we prevail is the overpowering thought process that guarantees the best outcome.
Karen, you know where I stand, and with me are many, many others who so admire you and your strength and courage. Be assured you and I, we, will prevail and succeed.
With great love and admiration,
Your dad,
John Kelley
Saturday, November 17, 2007
The Odyssey
Thank you so very much for all you good wishes and thoughts as I've recuperated from surgery. Your cards, flowers, calls, care and help have made this time of transition much easier.
As you've heard, the amenities and care at Casa del Ott were outstanding and if you're able to book a room there I'm sure you'll find that you won't want your stay to end either. They have the very best staff on call twenty-four-seven and the food, for which they are well known, is delicious. Wendy and Chuck saw to it that each meal was well-balanced and tasty. A special thank you to Wendy's mom for the delectable homemade custard and apple sauce! What a treat!
My four footed friends Bella (aka Pretty Girl) and Noah (aka Big Lug) were of great comfort and amusement during my stay there, as near as I can recall through my drug-induced haze. Quite frankly, I'm not exactly sure what I did during my time at Casa del Ott other than sleep and eat. The time passed so quickly and was so pleasant. At any rate, a hearty thanks to Wendy for keeping me on my pain med schedule. Hooray for well-managed pain! It really makes life during recovery palatable.
One of the major issues during the three-day, two-night post-surgery hospital stay was getting the pain managed. During the first day-and-a-half that was not accomplished. I felt like I'd told everyone that I needed more pain meds than your average bear but, somehow, only the minimum dosage was given. It wasn't working. And when I say it wasn't working I do mean it wasn't working.
With this so freshly in my mind it is with much conviction that I say that, should you ever be in a hospital, you must have an advocate there with you at all times. Someone who will speak up on your behalf because you, the person coming out of anesthesia and recovering from surgery, are not in the best position to represent yourself... particularly if the pain meds aren't working, you're not sleeping and you end up in a sobbing heap every four hours.
Having my family there to step in and speak up for me was critical. I am so appreciative that they were able to be there with me. Once the pain was managed I was much more comfortable and became more myself... myself hopped up on prescription pain meds, but more myself.
The point of the surgery was to get rid of the cancer and indeed that was accomplished. I would like to thank my surgeon, Dr. Boughey, for her fine work and care. Having such a compassionate person and capable surgeon combined in one person is a rare and beautiful thing.
During our stay at the Methodist Hospital there were so many caring and delightful nurses who helped make our stay pleasant. One of the most memorable was a night nurse who used a flashlight to check on me in the middle of the night. How thoughtful and kind was he to be mindful of the need for sleep and to recognize how startling bright light can be in the night.
As Janis shared with you, during the surgery the lump that we could not feel for months was still, somehow, there in almost the same size as it was initially measured. There were also three sentinel nodes and eight (of eighteen) axillary nodes that contained cancer. This was a disappointment to everyone. It was not at all what we expected to find but, as Janis said in one of the last posts, we are confident that the unexpected detour we have found ourselves on will bring us back to our original destination.
For me personally, coming to terms with the reality of those pathology results was a challenge. Two weeks ago I was overwhelmed with sadness: my desire to have an out-of-the-ballpark-home run of finding no cancer at the surgery had not come to fruition. It was such a letdown to find that the cancer was still there, especially in the lymph nodes. What happened to all the work those piranhas were supposed to be doing?!
I guess if you want a job done right you need to do it yourself! Right? Or... you can trust that the work, whatever that was to be, was done. It's heady stuff for a gal who likes to believe herself in charge of her life (I have a calendar, a schedule and plans!). But what I keep running into is that it's about letting go and trusting. Oh, the trusting... what a lesson that is.
In my mind, I believed they would find no remaining cancer in the surgery thanks to the piranha power and it would mean I wouldn't have to think about it ever returning. Coming face-to-face with the possibility that I will live with the possibility that the cancer could return was difficult. In all the meetings with our doctors there has never been a 'zero chance of return' mentioned. It's about getting the lowest return rate possible, which sounds a lot like savings accounts these days.
The next week or so I was in a period of mourning not only to accept my new reality but also to acknowledge and accept that having cancer has changed my life permanently. Letting that sadness and frustration out was a part of my healing process, as overwhelming as it was. An especially heartfelt thank you to Janis and my family during that time for listening, supporting and consoling me as I worked my way through those feelings.
Going through this mourning process has not changed my positive attitude, though at the time it did feel very, very far away. My positive attitude has been instrumental in being able to deal with the diagnosis, the treatments and in facilitating the healing process. I believe that the piranhas did their good work of cleaning up the cancer. I trust that, though it may not have been as I'd envisioned, my outcome will still be what I've wanted: to be permanently cancer-free.
The removal of the eighteen axillary underarm nodes has meant a much longer recovery path and has not been without complications. As one would expect when a major route of road is removed there is some congestion and clogging (not the kind done to fiddle music). That is what I've been experiencing in my left arm since the lymph nodes were removed. The mild swelling of the arm is being managed with compression bands and daily exercises.
Another result of the surgery has been some nerve 'bruising' that occurred when the underarm nodes were taken. The surgeon moves the nerves aside to get at the nodes but in that process the nerves, which are very sensitive (as is their job), became even more sensitive. With that, the entire underside of my left arm felt like it had a severe sunburn. Fortunately, the drug I've been taking for the numbness in the fingers and feet, along with time, has improved that discomfort- so much so that on our visit to the Mayo this past Wednesday I was finally able to be fitted with a single compression sleeve to help control the swelling.
The next step for me on this journey is to begin radiation treatments and that will happen the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend. This past Tuesday we met with a Mayo-trained radiologist here in the Cities who came highly recommended. He explained the process and answered all our questions and, though he looks so young he may be someone I babysat, he will be a terrific addition to our team.
I will go in on Monday to have a body scan done so they'll know how my insides are laid out. They want to make sure that the radiation beams will miss my heart. I say that sounds terrific. We'll also then have a baseline for future reference as I've not had a body scan done yet.
On Monday I will also be tattooed. Yes, I'm getting used to that idea myself. It will be three small dots to mark where the radiation will be focused (there's a lot of higher math used in being a radiologist). I did ask if there was a choice of color for the tattoos and my radiologist, Dr. Nisi, said he's never been asked that question but he would find out. We'll see what, other than the standard dark blue which is used to 'stand out' on the body, is available.
At the appointment I will have a treatment 'pillow' made. Pillow is in quotes because I don't believe it's meant for comfort (I still will be lying on a metal table for the radiation, people) as much as it's for proper placement during the treatments. With this deadline looming I'm working to get my left arm to raise above my head so it will not get in the way of the radiation treatments.
As with every treatment there is a cost and a benefit. The benefit of having radiation is to eradicate any remaining cells that are cancerous or pre-cancerous near or at the site. This cuts the rate of recurrence at the site by thirty percent, which is pretty appealing.
The very powerful beams of radiation will be directed at the left breast and also at the lymph nodes above the left collar bone. Because the lines of radiation are straight and my body is curved, the top of my left lung will receive radiation which will cause scar tissue to form. This is the cost of reducing the recurrence rate at the site, but, being young and a non-smoker, it shouldn't pose a problem.
There's much more to tell you but, for now, I will sign off. I wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I hope it is a restful day, spent with friends and loved ones enjoying the abundance of your lives. I will be giving thanks for all of you, for your support and for your love.
With much gratitude, Karen
As you've heard, the amenities and care at Casa del Ott were outstanding and if you're able to book a room there I'm sure you'll find that you won't want your stay to end either. They have the very best staff on call twenty-four-seven and the food, for which they are well known, is delicious. Wendy and Chuck saw to it that each meal was well-balanced and tasty. A special thank you to Wendy's mom for the delectable homemade custard and apple sauce! What a treat!
My four footed friends Bella (aka Pretty Girl) and Noah (aka Big Lug) were of great comfort and amusement during my stay there, as near as I can recall through my drug-induced haze. Quite frankly, I'm not exactly sure what I did during my time at Casa del Ott other than sleep and eat. The time passed so quickly and was so pleasant. At any rate, a hearty thanks to Wendy for keeping me on my pain med schedule. Hooray for well-managed pain! It really makes life during recovery palatable.
One of the major issues during the three-day, two-night post-surgery hospital stay was getting the pain managed. During the first day-and-a-half that was not accomplished. I felt like I'd told everyone that I needed more pain meds than your average bear but, somehow, only the minimum dosage was given. It wasn't working. And when I say it wasn't working I do mean it wasn't working.
With this so freshly in my mind it is with much conviction that I say that, should you ever be in a hospital, you must have an advocate there with you at all times. Someone who will speak up on your behalf because you, the person coming out of anesthesia and recovering from surgery, are not in the best position to represent yourself... particularly if the pain meds aren't working, you're not sleeping and you end up in a sobbing heap every four hours.
Having my family there to step in and speak up for me was critical. I am so appreciative that they were able to be there with me. Once the pain was managed I was much more comfortable and became more myself... myself hopped up on prescription pain meds, but more myself.
The point of the surgery was to get rid of the cancer and indeed that was accomplished. I would like to thank my surgeon, Dr. Boughey, for her fine work and care. Having such a compassionate person and capable surgeon combined in one person is a rare and beautiful thing.
During our stay at the Methodist Hospital there were so many caring and delightful nurses who helped make our stay pleasant. One of the most memorable was a night nurse who used a flashlight to check on me in the middle of the night. How thoughtful and kind was he to be mindful of the need for sleep and to recognize how startling bright light can be in the night.
As Janis shared with you, during the surgery the lump that we could not feel for months was still, somehow, there in almost the same size as it was initially measured. There were also three sentinel nodes and eight (of eighteen) axillary nodes that contained cancer. This was a disappointment to everyone. It was not at all what we expected to find but, as Janis said in one of the last posts, we are confident that the unexpected detour we have found ourselves on will bring us back to our original destination.
For me personally, coming to terms with the reality of those pathology results was a challenge. Two weeks ago I was overwhelmed with sadness: my desire to have an out-of-the-ballpark-home run of finding no cancer at the surgery had not come to fruition. It was such a letdown to find that the cancer was still there, especially in the lymph nodes. What happened to all the work those piranhas were supposed to be doing?!
I guess if you want a job done right you need to do it yourself! Right? Or... you can trust that the work, whatever that was to be, was done. It's heady stuff for a gal who likes to believe herself in charge of her life (I have a calendar, a schedule and plans!). But what I keep running into is that it's about letting go and trusting. Oh, the trusting... what a lesson that is.
In my mind, I believed they would find no remaining cancer in the surgery thanks to the piranha power and it would mean I wouldn't have to think about it ever returning. Coming face-to-face with the possibility that I will live with the possibility that the cancer could return was difficult. In all the meetings with our doctors there has never been a 'zero chance of return' mentioned. It's about getting the lowest return rate possible, which sounds a lot like savings accounts these days.
The next week or so I was in a period of mourning not only to accept my new reality but also to acknowledge and accept that having cancer has changed my life permanently. Letting that sadness and frustration out was a part of my healing process, as overwhelming as it was. An especially heartfelt thank you to Janis and my family during that time for listening, supporting and consoling me as I worked my way through those feelings.
Going through this mourning process has not changed my positive attitude, though at the time it did feel very, very far away. My positive attitude has been instrumental in being able to deal with the diagnosis, the treatments and in facilitating the healing process. I believe that the piranhas did their good work of cleaning up the cancer. I trust that, though it may not have been as I'd envisioned, my outcome will still be what I've wanted: to be permanently cancer-free.
The removal of the eighteen axillary underarm nodes has meant a much longer recovery path and has not been without complications. As one would expect when a major route of road is removed there is some congestion and clogging (not the kind done to fiddle music). That is what I've been experiencing in my left arm since the lymph nodes were removed. The mild swelling of the arm is being managed with compression bands and daily exercises.
Another result of the surgery has been some nerve 'bruising' that occurred when the underarm nodes were taken. The surgeon moves the nerves aside to get at the nodes but in that process the nerves, which are very sensitive (as is their job), became even more sensitive. With that, the entire underside of my left arm felt like it had a severe sunburn. Fortunately, the drug I've been taking for the numbness in the fingers and feet, along with time, has improved that discomfort- so much so that on our visit to the Mayo this past Wednesday I was finally able to be fitted with a single compression sleeve to help control the swelling.
The next step for me on this journey is to begin radiation treatments and that will happen the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend. This past Tuesday we met with a Mayo-trained radiologist here in the Cities who came highly recommended. He explained the process and answered all our questions and, though he looks so young he may be someone I babysat, he will be a terrific addition to our team.
I will go in on Monday to have a body scan done so they'll know how my insides are laid out. They want to make sure that the radiation beams will miss my heart. I say that sounds terrific. We'll also then have a baseline for future reference as I've not had a body scan done yet.
On Monday I will also be tattooed. Yes, I'm getting used to that idea myself. It will be three small dots to mark where the radiation will be focused (there's a lot of higher math used in being a radiologist). I did ask if there was a choice of color for the tattoos and my radiologist, Dr. Nisi, said he's never been asked that question but he would find out. We'll see what, other than the standard dark blue which is used to 'stand out' on the body, is available.
At the appointment I will have a treatment 'pillow' made. Pillow is in quotes because I don't believe it's meant for comfort (I still will be lying on a metal table for the radiation, people) as much as it's for proper placement during the treatments. With this deadline looming I'm working to get my left arm to raise above my head so it will not get in the way of the radiation treatments.
As with every treatment there is a cost and a benefit. The benefit of having radiation is to eradicate any remaining cells that are cancerous or pre-cancerous near or at the site. This cuts the rate of recurrence at the site by thirty percent, which is pretty appealing.
The very powerful beams of radiation will be directed at the left breast and also at the lymph nodes above the left collar bone. Because the lines of radiation are straight and my body is curved, the top of my left lung will receive radiation which will cause scar tissue to form. This is the cost of reducing the recurrence rate at the site, but, being young and a non-smoker, it shouldn't pose a problem.
There's much more to tell you but, for now, I will sign off. I wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I hope it is a restful day, spent with friends and loved ones enjoying the abundance of your lives. I will be giving thanks for all of you, for your support and for your love.
With much gratitude, Karen
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Back home
On Friday evening we moved Karen from the lovely comforts at Casa Del Ott to her own home. Wendy and Chuck sent her off with a fabulous meal (featuring Chuck's amazing grilling skills) as well as with the tasty leftovers to feed her through the weekend.
Karen slept very well that first night back in her own bed and come morning was surprised to find that she was almost horizontal in the bed (instead of propped to a 45-degree angle as she had been since the hospital). She spent most of the day Saturday unpacking, doing physical therapy, collecting voicemail messages and mail. Dinner was shared with her friends Amy, Tom and Miss Anna who came to visit. Oh, and Karen asked me to cut off the rest of her hair. Strangely, ever since the surgery it has been falling out. I personally think it is from the anesthesia because in the four weeks prior to the surgery without chemo, she has tiny hair stubble regrowing on her head. Regardless the reason for the loss now, she grew tired of picking hair out of her hats and so we trimmed her up. She has a very lovely cranium. You might have to take my word for it, but she does.
Sunday was a day for returning a few of the many phone calls, more physical therapy, napping. Her friend Karen dropped off three delicious homemade soups and Lisa Roettger brought over a wonderful lasagna dinner.
Monday, Karen has a visit planned with Sara and Marcus and then choir rehearsal that evening. She was able to attend rehearsal last week and received a warm reception as well as a little playful chiding. Karen told me that one of the members joked, 'I can't believe you're here so soon after surgery! Now if I want to miss rehearsal because I have a sore throat or something I'll be asking myself 'Are you one week post-surgical? No? Well then, you're healthy enough to go!''
Hopefully there will be visits with Renee and Lori this week too. Karen is not yet allowed to drive, so if you have time during the day, please drop word and perhaps we can arrange for you to meet Karen for a short walk or a coffee so she isn't stuck inside all week!
Karen has asked me to thank everyone again for their kind support and concern. The cards, flowers, food, calls and emails as well as those sending their prayers and positive energy. She would like to contact you all to express her thanks personally, but just hasn't the energy at present. Please know that she will be in touch and post a message here as soon as she is able.
Only good things -
Janis
Karen slept very well that first night back in her own bed and come morning was surprised to find that she was almost horizontal in the bed (instead of propped to a 45-degree angle as she had been since the hospital). She spent most of the day Saturday unpacking, doing physical therapy, collecting voicemail messages and mail. Dinner was shared with her friends Amy, Tom and Miss Anna who came to visit. Oh, and Karen asked me to cut off the rest of her hair. Strangely, ever since the surgery it has been falling out. I personally think it is from the anesthesia because in the four weeks prior to the surgery without chemo, she has tiny hair stubble regrowing on her head. Regardless the reason for the loss now, she grew tired of picking hair out of her hats and so we trimmed her up. She has a very lovely cranium. You might have to take my word for it, but she does.
Sunday was a day for returning a few of the many phone calls, more physical therapy, napping. Her friend Karen dropped off three delicious homemade soups and Lisa Roettger brought over a wonderful lasagna dinner.
Monday, Karen has a visit planned with Sara and Marcus and then choir rehearsal that evening. She was able to attend rehearsal last week and received a warm reception as well as a little playful chiding. Karen told me that one of the members joked, 'I can't believe you're here so soon after surgery! Now if I want to miss rehearsal because I have a sore throat or something I'll be asking myself 'Are you one week post-surgical? No? Well then, you're healthy enough to go!''
Hopefully there will be visits with Renee and Lori this week too. Karen is not yet allowed to drive, so if you have time during the day, please drop word and perhaps we can arrange for you to meet Karen for a short walk or a coffee so she isn't stuck inside all week!
Karen has asked me to thank everyone again for their kind support and concern. The cards, flowers, food, calls and emails as well as those sending their prayers and positive energy. She would like to contact you all to express her thanks personally, but just hasn't the energy at present. Please know that she will be in touch and post a message here as soon as she is able.
Only good things -
Janis
Friday, November 2, 2007
On the mend...
It's been a good many days since I last posted and I know many of you have wondered how Karen is doing.
Karen has been recuperating well under the watchful eyes and tender care of Wendy and Chuck. Their poodles, Bella and Noah, make sure that Karen has lots of attention and ears to scratch too. She has also had numerous voicemail messages, cards, email messages and blog posts to let her know she is loved and supported during this time.
Karen is slowly beginning to feel more like herself. Never having had a surgery like that, we didn't really know what to expect and were surprised by how taxed the body is and all the energy it takes to heal. And while the pain meds were necessary, their down side was that they are also heavy depressants. So, for a few days there Karen would cycle between being a bit loopy, tearful or overwhelmed and then knocked flat for a solid sleep. It's helped a great deal that she has been able to nearly weened herself off them.
We had a post-surgery visit to Mayo this past Tuesday at which time Karen had the drain removed from under her arm where the lymph nodes had been. We also met with the lymphadema clinic for instruction on how to check for signs of swelling, to perform physical therapy at home and to be fit for a compression sleeve and bra. Lucia, the physical therapist, sewed for Karen, right on the spot, a custom bra insert of her own design that discourages lymphadema - and it works! She also showed us several exercises to restore the strength and range of motion in the left shoulder. This is slow process and, at times, very frustrating. Karen has said that it seems that it should not be so difficult to do something so easy nor should it be so tiring to do so little. But she's keeping at it. Each day it will get a little easier and a little better. She's been taking walks outside every day and today walked for 25 minutes on the treadmill.
Lastly, we also met with Dr. P, the oncologist. She is not comfortable returning to the remaining Taxol treatments as was the plan because Karen's neuropathy is still fairly significant. She is running a couple tests to help determine the course to follow from here and prescribed a drug to help with the nerve pain. Not only is it in her hands and feet now, but as the nerves that come from the spine, under the arm and down the arm repair themselves they create an extreme sensitivity to touch and a pin-prick sensation that has been a new type of pain to navigate.
Karen said to me yesterday that she wants to try and begin to return calls to people who have kindly checked in on her these past couple weeks. Until a few days ago, she really didn't have much energy to do much beyond the basics. But just as with her body, her energy is recovering too.
I want to thank you to all of you for your quiet support and prayers, your calls and cards, as well as your offers to help. Your kindness really helped make the walk down this unknown road easier. As Karen gets back up to speed we may take you up on those offers in the coming weeks.
Wishing good things for you all -
Janis
On the bye, out of curiousity I just checked and there are now 45 people who subscribe to the blog! I'm certain there are just as many folks who just stop by to read it on their own. The blanket of love and support you all create is enormous, warm and comforting. Thank you!
Karen has been recuperating well under the watchful eyes and tender care of Wendy and Chuck. Their poodles, Bella and Noah, make sure that Karen has lots of attention and ears to scratch too. She has also had numerous voicemail messages, cards, email messages and blog posts to let her know she is loved and supported during this time.
Karen is slowly beginning to feel more like herself. Never having had a surgery like that, we didn't really know what to expect and were surprised by how taxed the body is and all the energy it takes to heal. And while the pain meds were necessary, their down side was that they are also heavy depressants. So, for a few days there Karen would cycle between being a bit loopy, tearful or overwhelmed and then knocked flat for a solid sleep. It's helped a great deal that she has been able to nearly weened herself off them.
We had a post-surgery visit to Mayo this past Tuesday at which time Karen had the drain removed from under her arm where the lymph nodes had been. We also met with the lymphadema clinic for instruction on how to check for signs of swelling, to perform physical therapy at home and to be fit for a compression sleeve and bra. Lucia, the physical therapist, sewed for Karen, right on the spot, a custom bra insert of her own design that discourages lymphadema - and it works! She also showed us several exercises to restore the strength and range of motion in the left shoulder. This is slow process and, at times, very frustrating. Karen has said that it seems that it should not be so difficult to do something so easy nor should it be so tiring to do so little. But she's keeping at it. Each day it will get a little easier and a little better. She's been taking walks outside every day and today walked for 25 minutes on the treadmill.
Lastly, we also met with Dr. P, the oncologist. She is not comfortable returning to the remaining Taxol treatments as was the plan because Karen's neuropathy is still fairly significant. She is running a couple tests to help determine the course to follow from here and prescribed a drug to help with the nerve pain. Not only is it in her hands and feet now, but as the nerves that come from the spine, under the arm and down the arm repair themselves they create an extreme sensitivity to touch and a pin-prick sensation that has been a new type of pain to navigate.
Karen said to me yesterday that she wants to try and begin to return calls to people who have kindly checked in on her these past couple weeks. Until a few days ago, she really didn't have much energy to do much beyond the basics. But just as with her body, her energy is recovering too.
I want to thank you to all of you for your quiet support and prayers, your calls and cards, as well as your offers to help. Your kindness really helped make the walk down this unknown road easier. As Karen gets back up to speed we may take you up on those offers in the coming weeks.
Wishing good things for you all -
Janis
On the bye, out of curiousity I just checked and there are now 45 people who subscribe to the blog! I'm certain there are just as many folks who just stop by to read it on their own. The blanket of love and support you all create is enormous, warm and comforting. Thank you!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Kicking Cancer Ass - Version 2.0
(Before anything else, my apologies are given to all of you who have been waiting anxiously for news of how the surgery went. Unfortunately, computer access at the hospital is not as readily available as it is at the clinic and it hasn't been easy to find time to break away to search out a terminal. Thanks for your understanding.)
Sometimes, a new, unexpected detour must be taken on the journey you have planned. A detour can be a bit startling and unsettling at first if there is no signs alerting you that it is coming up ahead. But the brilliant thing about a proper detour is that it brings you to the original destination nonetheless.
Karen's cancer conquering journey had such a detour on Monday. None of us, including the surgeon, saw any signs alerting us to the detour, but when all was said and done, we're still on track. As Karen so appropriately told Dr. Boughey, "We kicked some cancer ass!"
The tumor was removed and Dr. Boughey is pleased that the second excision she made came back from Pathology with clean margins (cancer cell-free allowances around the tumor). Unfortunately, Karen's hope that the sentinel lymph nodes would be clean and thus allow her to keep her under arm lymph nodes was not realized. But what did come from the removal is that those cancer cells were removed from her body and do not have to be contended with any longer.
Removal of the lymph nodes meant the surgery was more involved and Karen was kept over night. It was difficult to manage her pain, and it required she be admitted a second night. After a team meeting though, we were able to coordinate a care plan to address the muscle tightness, pain and lack of continuous sleep. She had two, solid four-hour blocks of sleep Tuesday night into Wednesday morning and has done much, much better today. The doctor hopes to discharge her this evening.
We will stay in Rochester until tomorrow, just as a precaution. Then, Karen's friends Wendy and Chuck have graciously offered to have Karen in their home while she recuperates.
There are certainly more details I could relay, but I do want to get back up to the room. But I felt it important that I not delay this post any longer either. Oh, and I understand that some of you have had difficulty posting comments on the blog recently. I'm sorry for this. I think it may have something to do with trying to preview your comments before posting instead of just posting, but, if you'd rather just email Karen, feel free to send them to me at janiskelley at hot mail dot com and I'll print them out for her and forward them to her as well.
Thank you so much to all of you who have been sending your thoughts, prayers, support and positive energy. As a family, we continue to be touched by the depth and breadth of your kindness and love. Thank you hardly seems enough, but thank you.
Sometimes, a new, unexpected detour must be taken on the journey you have planned. A detour can be a bit startling and unsettling at first if there is no signs alerting you that it is coming up ahead. But the brilliant thing about a proper detour is that it brings you to the original destination nonetheless.
Karen's cancer conquering journey had such a detour on Monday. None of us, including the surgeon, saw any signs alerting us to the detour, but when all was said and done, we're still on track. As Karen so appropriately told Dr. Boughey, "We kicked some cancer ass!"
The tumor was removed and Dr. Boughey is pleased that the second excision she made came back from Pathology with clean margins (cancer cell-free allowances around the tumor). Unfortunately, Karen's hope that the sentinel lymph nodes would be clean and thus allow her to keep her under arm lymph nodes was not realized. But what did come from the removal is that those cancer cells were removed from her body and do not have to be contended with any longer.
Removal of the lymph nodes meant the surgery was more involved and Karen was kept over night. It was difficult to manage her pain, and it required she be admitted a second night. After a team meeting though, we were able to coordinate a care plan to address the muscle tightness, pain and lack of continuous sleep. She had two, solid four-hour blocks of sleep Tuesday night into Wednesday morning and has done much, much better today. The doctor hopes to discharge her this evening.
We will stay in Rochester until tomorrow, just as a precaution. Then, Karen's friends Wendy and Chuck have graciously offered to have Karen in their home while she recuperates.
There are certainly more details I could relay, but I do want to get back up to the room. But I felt it important that I not delay this post any longer either. Oh, and I understand that some of you have had difficulty posting comments on the blog recently. I'm sorry for this. I think it may have something to do with trying to preview your comments before posting instead of just posting, but, if you'd rather just email Karen, feel free to send them to me at janiskelley at hot mail dot com and I'll print them out for her and forward them to her as well.
Thank you so much to all of you who have been sending your thoughts, prayers, support and positive energy. As a family, we continue to be touched by the depth and breadth of your kindness and love. Thank you hardly seems enough, but thank you.
Friday, October 19, 2007
On Top of Your "To Do" List for Today
October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.
In 1993, President Clinton proclaimed the third Friday of October to be National Mammography Day.
Chances for successful treatment and survival are greatly increased with early detection. It is therefore critical to have regular screenings.
Be proactive. Call today and simply schedule an appointment. Contact someone you care about and remind them too.
To find the nearest facility that offers mammography:
American Cancer Society: 800.227.2345 or visit http://www.cancer.org/
American College of Radiology: 800.227.5463 or visit http://www.acr.org/
In 1993, President Clinton proclaimed the third Friday of October to be National Mammography Day.
Chances for successful treatment and survival are greatly increased with early detection. It is therefore critical to have regular screenings.
Be proactive. Call today and simply schedule an appointment. Contact someone you care about and remind them too.
To find the nearest facility that offers mammography:
American Cancer Society: 800.227.2345 or visit http://www.cancer.org/
American College of Radiology: 800.227.5463 or visit http://www.acr.org/
Friday, October 12, 2007
It's about faith
As you may have inferred from the last post which included some of the beautiful art peppered throughout the Mayo buildings, we met with our beloved surgeon Dr. Boughey, pictured to the left, on Thursday afternoon to discuss the surgery that has now been scheduled for Monday October 22nd. We have such confidence in her and know that the surgery will go beautifully.While it is true that the incredible shrinking spot was going to be removed eventually the plan was to complete the chemo sessions first. My oncologist Dr. P is concerned about the long-term effects of the neuropathy, numbness and tingling that effects the nerve endings, in my fingers and toes. In a pin test she did to check the level of sensitivity I didn't do as well as she would've liked. We discussed the options and decided to schedule the surgery for next Monday down at the Methodist Hospital in Rochester which is part of the Mayo system. It is an out-patient surgery and we will stay there that night and coming back later on Tuesday.
This is certainly one way to get a break from chemo for a while... hmmm, wait a minute- surgery?! Let me rethink this plan! But it will allow my feet and hands to regain feeling, let me get my strength back for the final sessions of chemo and provide some time to catch up on all those PBS shows I've taped over the last six months but haven't had time to watch. With another pledge drive around the corner I need to open up some more tape space...
The tentative plan going forward is that once I've recovered from surgery (three weeks) I'll resume chemo but at a lower dose for a longer time (six weeks of weekly sessions) with the radiation following (six weeks of daily doses M-F). This change in plans does lengthen the time for treatment but it's just a short term addition to the overall long term positive outcome. It's a plan we all feel very good about.
I will say that I have been none too thrilled about having to have surgery and really don't like the thought of being radiated- who would?! (It's not done to vegetables, milk or meat without some uproar!) But the thing with this darn cancer is that once your plan has been set you can't get any changes without huge penalty fees and paperwork galore. So, as much as I've been feeling that I don't want either surgery or radiation I will stick to the plan. And as long as I have to have surgery having Dr. B lead the team gives me great comfort.
Here is where faith comes in, not that it hasn't been a part of this process all along but it has been one of the more challenging pieces for me in the fatigued-state-of-late. I have assured Dr. B that there is no cancer left, that in the lumpectomy she will remove that darn breast cancer marker which marks where the cancer was along with some sacrificial cells and the sentinel nodes- that is all.
The doubt that arises in my brain when it's tired and worn out is what's hard to deal with. It's easy to be positive when you're well rested. And to that end I would like to thank my Aunt Verlinda and Uncle Rich for sending such a beautiful and uncannily well-timed card that I received Saturday. The quote is from Hebrews 11:1 and reads: 'What is faith? It is the confident assurance that something we want is going to happen. It is the certainty that what we hope for is waiting for us, even though we cannot see it up ahead.'
It's the 'cannot see it up ahead' part that's been tripping me up these last days but as I get farther from the last chemo session my strength and energy are returning. It's such a boost to see how quickly that happens and that just reinforces to me that I am strong and healthy.
For those of you tracking the progress of the 'ultimate in comb-overs', news on the northern front is the hair is getting thinner (how is that even possible?!) In these last five days I've had a profusion of hairs come out. Now, keep in mind there was not a profusion to start with but comparison to what remains it's still substantial.
In light of this recent exodus I may just shave my head for Halloween and be done with it. My only concern is that those few hairs do provide some R-value, however scant, and with the cold winter winds right around the corner keeping the remaining few hairs is appealing. Though with the beautiful new winter caps my dear friends Lori, Sandy and Beth have knit for me and with the ever-so-sprightly knit hat my sister had made for me I will be in good stead against those brisk breezes. Thank you to all of you for your thoughtfulness!
Many requests for pictures of the new sassy wig have been elicited from folks outside the metro area, including from those as far away as Blaine, MN which is pretty much on the way to Duluth. The wig really is charming and more styling than I'd ever do on my own. It's so easy to wear- just shake and go- try one and you'll never want to go back to the hassle of having all those hair products cluttering up the bathroom! (Back me up on this, Terry and Dave!) A hearty thank you to my Mom and Dad for making it all possible. So here it is, the state of the hair:
A photo my Dad took of Janis and me on the day my hair started to fall out in the car ride down to treatment number two. At the suggestion of my friend Maria I had just cut my hair short in case it start to come out.
These are photos from my 40th birthday/the wig preview party. Chuck and Wendy hosted the festivities at their beautiful home. They made the party for twenty plus people seem like a little intimate affair. Many thanks to them!
Mom and Dad came up for the party which was lovely. Mom said they were there for the first one and wanted to be there for the fortieth one as well. Having my family and friends around me was such a delight!
Thank you to all of you for your continued support. I have been wrapping your blanket of love and support around me and take such comfort in it. I would welcome your extra support right now and ask for your best thoughts and prayers on Monday morning for the highest and best outcome possible, a beautiful, minimally invasive surgery and a gentle recovery. Thank you!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Time on our hands
Hello everyone!
I am writing this post from the 10th floor lobby of the Gonda building at Mayo Clinic. There has been yet another change in Karen's chemo schedule this week. After meeting with Dr. Peethambraham this morning, the doctor determined that the neuropathy Karen was having in her hands and feet was too significant and that a third dose of Taxol today was not a good idea. She provided Karen with several options for how to proceed from here and I will have Karen tell you about those. However, Dr. P did recommend we meet with the surgeon this afternoon, so we have some time to kill before our 1:30 meeting with Dr. Boughey.
What does one do at the Mayo when one has time on one's hands?
There is certainly no shortage of medical information at your disposal. There are jigsaw puzzles to complete, internet access, live piano music with sing-alongs, and guided tours of the campus with the history of the Mayo Clinic. Lastly, there are daily guided art tours as well as recorded audio tours you can check out from the front desk.
Mayo is reknowned for its medical care, but its modern art collection is quietly on par with any small museum. I doubt most patients ever notice who the artist is, but there is no overlooking the amount of art throughout the campus. At first I wondered why it was all modern art, but then it occured to me that modern art reinforces that modern things take place here. Would a paintings and sculptures by Old World masters send a subliminal message of cutting edge technology and scientific breakthroughs?
Not surprisingly, the majority of the art is donated. It goes to show that this facility has touched so many others as it has us. We won't be able to donate a Picasso, but the amazing people here have our gratitude and appreciate all the same. What I can do is show off a bit of their amazing collection to some of you who will hopefully never have a chance to see it in person.
Here is just a little of what you will see from wandering around the buildings. I never took art history, so the information provided below the photos on the artist/work is coming from the posted placards.
Thanks again everyone for checking in on the blog and sending your supportive thoughts to Karen!
These are my favorite pieces - five wall size originals by Joan Miro - located in the lab where Karen gets her blood drawn before every appointment. I just love the titles.
Joan Miro, L'Halterophile (Dumb Bell Wielder)
La Folle Au Piment Rageur (The Mad Woman with Ill-tempered Pimento)
La Guerriere de Cents Aus (The Warrior of a Hundred Years)
Le Meneuse de Lune (The Moon Driver)
Le Grande Ecaillere (The Big Oyster Woman)
Joan Miro is a Spanish painter, sculptor and printmaker. His work, exploring worlds of fantasy and imagination, have made him one of the most important and best-known artists of the twentieth century.
Miro's bright colors and playful images earned him the epithets "childlike" and "primitive." Actually he is a Surrealist artist, attempting to capture primary human experience in a direct and forceful manner. Miro draws his subject matter from memories and irrational fantasies. The images embodied in his paintings often represent women, stars, birds, or mythical animals. Subject matter varies from figural compositions to the totally abstract.
This is in the main lobby of the Gonda building:
Jennifer Bartlett, Four Houses, Oil on Canvas, 2001
Jennifer Barlett is an artist whose probing imagination has brought her into the ranks of today's finest painters. Her work is versatile, thoughtful and energetic. It has undergone a dramatic evolution from the hightly controlled abstract pieces of the early 1970s to the realism of her later work. To a certain extent, her career is a continual rearrangement of a limited set of motifs= the house being the most common and recognizable. Her penchant for juxtaposing images, media and points of view allows the viewer to create a whole by piece in together the many parts. In Four Houses, we see a house motif at different times of the day; morning, noon, dusk and night. We have placed this painting near the entrance of Mayo Clinic as a way to welcome patients and visitors; "Our house is your house."
These are also in the main lobby:
Dale Chihuly, Untitled, 2001
(I don't have the placard notes for this, but I have seen exhibits by Dale Chihuly whose work is truly phenomenal. This is an enormous display - perhaps 13-14 constructions that are easily 6 feet in diameter each. I can't even begin to imagine what the cost was for the single donor (!) who had them commissioned especially for this space when the Gonda building opened six years ago.)
Alexander Calder, Untitled, Lithograph
American artist Alexander Calder (1898-1976) was born into a family of artists. He received an engineering degree in 1919. He worked as an engineer and took art classes in New York before he went to Paris in 1926.
In Paris, Calder made paintings and toys. Encouraged, he turned to wire as a medium, creating portraits of celebrated people of the day as well as his friends. This was a new medium with no precedent. The wire sculptures, described as three-dimensional line drawings, brought him notoriety and recognition in Europe before America.
Under the influence of Mondrian and the Constructivists, Calder's work becomes more abstract and geometric. Calder was the inventor of the mobile, which he created as moving sculptures. He also began making stabiles, stationary works made of large sheets of metal connected by bolts.
What does one of these "mobiles" look like, you ask? Well, go to the lobby of the original Mayo building and lo and behold, you'll find one:
Alexander Calder, Fish, Painted metal and wire, 60 x 30 inches
Here's another piece in the lobby of the Mayo building:
Zophia Butrymowicz, Autumn, Wool tapestry, 8 x 13 feet, 1983
Autumn by Zophia Butrymowicz is one of the finest tapestries in the Mayo collection. Woven in wool, the warm spectrum of colors seems to glow from within, suggesting the shimmering play of sunlight on a tree-colored hillside in the fall. Subtle variations in hue and value indicate various levels of space and the interplay of light and shadow.
The tapestry Autumn was originally commissioned to conceal a weather map that used to operate in the Mayo Building lobby.
The men furnished the pelt of the mountain goat, the cedar bark, the frame, the painted pattern board, and the few tools required. The women prepared and wove the materials. The finished blanket was used as a ceremonial robe by the wealthy and every chief or prominent Tlingit possessed one or more. They were used at ceremonies and dances, worn over one or, generally, both shoulders, and secured by thongs sewved to the head (top) of the blanket. Blankets might be given to the more honored guests at potlatches or ceremonial feasts.
David Hockney, Red Wire Plant, Etching, 30 x 36 inches, Edition 8/35, 1998
Chair with Book on Red Carpet, Etching, 38 x 30 inches, Edition 18/35, 1998
David Hockney is one of the most revered artists working today. For a contemporary artist of serious aesthetic purpose, he enjoys immense public visibility. Hockney's success was so rapid that he became independent very soon after leaving the Royal College of Art in London and did not have to rely on teaching in order to make a living. In 1963 he moved to Los Angeles where the lifestyle and landscape of the city became important features of his work.
Hockney's vision ranges from the grandiose to the intimate, often embracing both at the same time. His drawings, paintings, and prints are readily accessible and reflect the scope of his talents and his ebullient personality. They are brightly colored and fun to look at. Hockney's art reflects his need to communicate directly with the viewer. It is his need to be heard plainly and understood clearly that is the basis for his phenomenal popularity.
Jim Dine, Red Etching Robe, Etching 29/36, 42 x 30 inches, 1976
The Sky & Lillies, Intaglio and silkscreen with hand-coloring, 40 x 30 inches, Edition 25/25, 1998
Brite Tulips, Intaglio and silkscreen with hand-coloring, 41 x 29 inches, Edition of 25, PP, 1998
From its avant-garde beginnings in the late 1950's, Jim Dine's work has become firmly rooted in tradition. He has produced more than 3,500 works in an astonishing range of mediums - above all in painting, sculpture, drawing, printmaking and photography but with occasional excursions into performance, state design, book design, poetry and even music.
He is a keen observer of nature for whom draftsmanship serves as the most precise tool of expression. The depth of expression and precision are reflected in his botanical drawings and paintings. Major decisions about the direction of his work are made subjectively rather than rationally. Dine emphasizes that his art is an expression of his sense of self, a desire to reach a profound understanding, through his own experience, of what it is to be human.
In another elevator bay:
For weddings, pieces of embroidery formed a particularly significant part of the dowry. Tradition defined the number and type of embroideries needed for a bride's dowry. A mother began to embroider soon after she had given birth to a girl in order to finish a set of suzani in time for the daughter's wedding. When the daughter was four to six years old she learned to stitch from her mother. Eventually the daughter took over what the mother had started and went on embroidering nearly until her wedding day. The pieces she created then revealed her diligence and skillfulness as well as the wealth of the family. A small section of the suzani was traditionally left unfinished. This area represented "never-ending marriage, never-ending life, and never-ending joy."
I am writing this post from the 10th floor lobby of the Gonda building at Mayo Clinic. There has been yet another change in Karen's chemo schedule this week. After meeting with Dr. Peethambraham this morning, the doctor determined that the neuropathy Karen was having in her hands and feet was too significant and that a third dose of Taxol today was not a good idea. She provided Karen with several options for how to proceed from here and I will have Karen tell you about those. However, Dr. P did recommend we meet with the surgeon this afternoon, so we have some time to kill before our 1:30 meeting with Dr. Boughey.
What does one do at the Mayo when one has time on one's hands?
There is certainly no shortage of medical information at your disposal. There are jigsaw puzzles to complete, internet access, live piano music with sing-alongs, and guided tours of the campus with the history of the Mayo Clinic. Lastly, there are daily guided art tours as well as recorded audio tours you can check out from the front desk.
Mayo is reknowned for its medical care, but its modern art collection is quietly on par with any small museum. I doubt most patients ever notice who the artist is, but there is no overlooking the amount of art throughout the campus. At first I wondered why it was all modern art, but then it occured to me that modern art reinforces that modern things take place here. Would a paintings and sculptures by Old World masters send a subliminal message of cutting edge technology and scientific breakthroughs?
Not surprisingly, the majority of the art is donated. It goes to show that this facility has touched so many others as it has us. We won't be able to donate a Picasso, but the amazing people here have our gratitude and appreciate all the same. What I can do is show off a bit of their amazing collection to some of you who will hopefully never have a chance to see it in person.
Here is just a little of what you will see from wandering around the buildings. I never took art history, so the information provided below the photos on the artist/work is coming from the posted placards.
Thanks again everyone for checking in on the blog and sending your supportive thoughts to Karen!
These are my favorite pieces - five wall size originals by Joan Miro - located in the lab where Karen gets her blood drawn before every appointment. I just love the titles.
Joan Miro, L'Halterophile (Dumb Bell Wielder)
La Folle Au Piment Rageur (The Mad Woman with Ill-tempered Pimento)
La Guerriere de Cents Aus (The Warrior of a Hundred Years)
Le Meneuse de Lune (The Moon Driver)
Le Grande Ecaillere (The Big Oyster Woman)
Joan Miro is a Spanish painter, sculptor and printmaker. His work, exploring worlds of fantasy and imagination, have made him one of the most important and best-known artists of the twentieth century.
Miro's bright colors and playful images earned him the epithets "childlike" and "primitive." Actually he is a Surrealist artist, attempting to capture primary human experience in a direct and forceful manner. Miro draws his subject matter from memories and irrational fantasies. The images embodied in his paintings often represent women, stars, birds, or mythical animals. Subject matter varies from figural compositions to the totally abstract.
These are in a hallway across from a cafeteria:
Andy Warhol, Flower Series, Silk Screens, 36 x 26 inches, 1970
An important development in American art, which became well known in the 1960s, was called Pop Art. Many "Pop" artists used common, everyday commercial illustrations or objects as the basis of their subject matter. Andy Warhol is one of Pop Art's most famous practitioners. He began his career in the 1950s as a commercial artist. His first Pop Art classics, overscaled sculptures of Campbell soup cans and Brillo boxes, were his attempt to take the mystery out of art. While showing the influence of the machine and of commercial products on art, Warhol believed that art could be reproduced by a machine and even called his studio, The Factory.This is in the main lobby of the Gonda building:
Jennifer Bartlett, Four Houses, Oil on Canvas, 2001
Jennifer Barlett is an artist whose probing imagination has brought her into the ranks of today's finest painters. Her work is versatile, thoughtful and energetic. It has undergone a dramatic evolution from the hightly controlled abstract pieces of the early 1970s to the realism of her later work. To a certain extent, her career is a continual rearrangement of a limited set of motifs= the house being the most common and recognizable. Her penchant for juxtaposing images, media and points of view allows the viewer to create a whole by piece in together the many parts. In Four Houses, we see a house motif at different times of the day; morning, noon, dusk and night. We have placed this painting near the entrance of Mayo Clinic as a way to welcome patients and visitors; "Our house is your house."
These are also in the main lobby:
Dale Chihuly, Untitled, 2001
(I don't have the placard notes for this, but I have seen exhibits by Dale Chihuly whose work is truly phenomenal. This is an enormous display - perhaps 13-14 constructions that are easily 6 feet in diameter each. I can't even begin to imagine what the cost was for the single donor (!) who had them commissioned especially for this space when the Gonda building opened six years ago.)
Alexander Calder, Untitled, Lithograph
American artist Alexander Calder (1898-1976) was born into a family of artists. He received an engineering degree in 1919. He worked as an engineer and took art classes in New York before he went to Paris in 1926.
In Paris, Calder made paintings and toys. Encouraged, he turned to wire as a medium, creating portraits of celebrated people of the day as well as his friends. This was a new medium with no precedent. The wire sculptures, described as three-dimensional line drawings, brought him notoriety and recognition in Europe before America.
Under the influence of Mondrian and the Constructivists, Calder's work becomes more abstract and geometric. Calder was the inventor of the mobile, which he created as moving sculptures. He also began making stabiles, stationary works made of large sheets of metal connected by bolts.
What does one of these "mobiles" look like, you ask? Well, go to the lobby of the original Mayo building and lo and behold, you'll find one:
Alexander Calder, Fish, Painted metal and wire, 60 x 30 inches
Here's another piece in the lobby of the Mayo building:
Zophia Butrymowicz, Autumn, Wool tapestry, 8 x 13 feet, 1983
Autumn by Zophia Butrymowicz is one of the finest tapestries in the Mayo collection. Woven in wool, the warm spectrum of colors seems to glow from within, suggesting the shimmering play of sunlight on a tree-colored hillside in the fall. Subtle variations in hue and value indicate various levels of space and the interplay of light and shadow.
The tapestry Autumn was originally commissioned to conceal a weather map that used to operate in the Mayo Building lobby.
This tapestry is in the elevator bay on 10 Gonda:
The men furnished the pelt of the mountain goat, the cedar bark, the frame, the painted pattern board, and the few tools required. The women prepared and wove the materials. The finished blanket was used as a ceremonial robe by the wealthy and every chief or prominent Tlingit possessed one or more. They were used at ceremonies and dances, worn over one or, generally, both shoulders, and secured by thongs sewved to the head (top) of the blanket. Blankets might be given to the more honored guests at potlatches or ceremonial feasts.
David Hockney, Red Wire Plant, Etching, 30 x 36 inches, Edition 8/35, 1998
Chair with Book on Red Carpet, Etching, 38 x 30 inches, Edition 18/35, 1998
David Hockney is one of the most revered artists working today. For a contemporary artist of serious aesthetic purpose, he enjoys immense public visibility. Hockney's success was so rapid that he became independent very soon after leaving the Royal College of Art in London and did not have to rely on teaching in order to make a living. In 1963 he moved to Los Angeles where the lifestyle and landscape of the city became important features of his work.
Hockney's vision ranges from the grandiose to the intimate, often embracing both at the same time. His drawings, paintings, and prints are readily accessible and reflect the scope of his talents and his ebullient personality. They are brightly colored and fun to look at. Hockney's art reflects his need to communicate directly with the viewer. It is his need to be heard plainly and understood clearly that is the basis for his phenomenal popularity.
Jim Dine, Red Etching Robe, Etching 29/36, 42 x 30 inches, 1976
The Sky & Lillies, Intaglio and silkscreen with hand-coloring, 40 x 30 inches, Edition 25/25, 1998
Brite Tulips, Intaglio and silkscreen with hand-coloring, 41 x 29 inches, Edition of 25, PP, 1998
From its avant-garde beginnings in the late 1950's, Jim Dine's work has become firmly rooted in tradition. He has produced more than 3,500 works in an astonishing range of mediums - above all in painting, sculpture, drawing, printmaking and photography but with occasional excursions into performance, state design, book design, poetry and even music.
He is a keen observer of nature for whom draftsmanship serves as the most precise tool of expression. The depth of expression and precision are reflected in his botanical drawings and paintings. Major decisions about the direction of his work are made subjectively rather than rationally. Dine emphasizes that his art is an expression of his sense of self, a desire to reach a profound understanding, through his own experience, of what it is to be human.
In another elevator bay:
Embroidery (suzani), Silk, Early 19th Century, Lakai, Uzbekistan
This type of Uzbek embroidery is called suzani, which comes from the Persian word for needle. Suzani can take many forms, from large decorative wall hangings and curtains to small functional household items such as bags to hold tea or spices.For weddings, pieces of embroidery formed a particularly significant part of the dowry. Tradition defined the number and type of embroideries needed for a bride's dowry. A mother began to embroider soon after she had given birth to a girl in order to finish a set of suzani in time for the daughter's wedding. When the daughter was four to six years old she learned to stitch from her mother. Eventually the daughter took over what the mother had started and went on embroidering nearly until her wedding day. The pieces she created then revealed her diligence and skillfulness as well as the wealth of the family. A small section of the suzani was traditionally left unfinished. This area represented "never-ending marriage, never-ending life, and never-ending joy."
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Schedule change
I am feeling very good heading into this weekend pre-chemo: these are the good days for energy and for fewer side effects. Today my energy isn't as threadbare as it was earlier in the week and I'm intereseted to see how much of the finger and toe numbness will go away over the weekend. I sure won't miss it when it's gone!
It's a beautiful weekend here so I'm going to get out and enjoy it with my dear friends Sarah and Marcus (and their dog Suzi, who I love to bring special treats to) at their home overlooking an apple tree valley in Red Wing. Whenever I'm with them it's always a treat. They both know so much about this amazing world around us. Every trip to visit them is an adventure: Lady Slippers on a hidden hill, migrating Scarlet Tangers in the tree canopy, bird watching at their picnic table. Look out nature: here I come!
Please mark your calendars for a change in my chemo schedule: I was not able to get on Dr. P's schedule for Monday (what do you mean you're seeing other people?!?) and am now on for Thursday this coming week. Not ever having had chemo before I thought the only way the date would change was if my blood counts weren't good enough but that's just not so. Many people want to see Dr. P and who can blame them. I know she's one of the people at the top of my list!
So, I'll enjoy an extra three days off this session. Please keep me in your thoughts this Thursday as the count down to completion continues... only two left to go!
It's a beautiful weekend here so I'm going to get out and enjoy it with my dear friends Sarah and Marcus (and their dog Suzi, who I love to bring special treats to) at their home overlooking an apple tree valley in Red Wing. Whenever I'm with them it's always a treat. They both know so much about this amazing world around us. Every trip to visit them is an adventure: Lady Slippers on a hidden hill, migrating Scarlet Tangers in the tree canopy, bird watching at their picnic table. Look out nature: here I come!
Please mark your calendars for a change in my chemo schedule: I was not able to get on Dr. P's schedule for Monday (what do you mean you're seeing other people?!?) and am now on for Thursday this coming week. Not ever having had chemo before I thought the only way the date would change was if my blood counts weren't good enough but that's just not so. Many people want to see Dr. P and who can blame them. I know she's one of the people at the top of my list!
So, I'll enjoy an extra three days off this session. Please keep me in your thoughts this Thursday as the count down to completion continues... only two left to go!
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