Christmas Cheers

Darcy has been our Christmas Elf during the holidaze, and has been a very good sport about it.

Dennis wrote:

I am flattered and honored that people actually follow this blog, and based on input from several directions, I guess it is time to add an update about recent health events.

One main aspect of my physical condition just now is that I am retaining fluids in a major way. This is a real nuisance, in that my lower extremities are just filling up. I look like one of those old people you see with the swollen ankles and legs (and other body parts, too, that I prefer not to discuss). It’s pretty comical, if you have a certain sense of humor, but mostly is a real hindrance. Basics such as putting on socks and pants, or climbing a flight of stairs or lifting your legs into bed become major accomplishments.

My stomach is swollen to what I would call a serious beer belly. I have a whole new sympathy for women pregnant in the later months (and cowboys with a real beer gut and a large cowboy belt buckle). No pair of pants fits, since there is so single spot where the pants will stay.

The partial remedy is that every week or so I go in to have my stomach drained. It is a miraculous procedure. They stick a needle into my stomach and literally drain out four or five liters. That is more than 10 pounds of fluid suddenly gone from my midsection, and boy, do I feel like a new man right after it happens. There is some discomfort to the procedure, of course, (nothing is a free ride here), but it still is a wonderful thing to me.

As to where the fluid is coming from, there could be several sources, so it is a little hard to trouble shoot this and just stop it at the origin. Evidence in this case shows that the fluid is primarily being caused by the tumor itself. The fluid does have cancer cells in it. This is not welcome news, of course, but hardly surprising. There have also been some suspicious spots that have shown up on the liver. We are also keeping an eye on a blood clot that has shown up in my right leg. This can become serious, of course, if it were to migrate or float to some more dangerous spot. I am giving myself a daily shot of blood thinner just for prevention.

So, it is obvious, at this stage, that we are well past the description that the tumor is “advanced but localized”. Clearly the cancer is spreading beyond the pancreas itself. The question on the table is, what to do next?

Now comes the guessing game. Would more chemo be effective in combating the tumor? Maybe yes, maybe no. Only about 10% of patients respond well to chemo treatments, anyway. And, just how effective might it be? So you get those great kinds of questions . . . . Would you rather take the chance of living for 10 months, but with reduced quality of life because of the treatments, or would you take your chances for 6 months or less but without chemical side effects. Good questions, and you never get to know the real answers.

And I haven’t put aside completely that we might get a treatment that could have dramatic success as its result. So, as always, I am hoping for the best, but also realistically trying to get ready for the worst.

And, which alternative treatments to try, if any. And what to do with my time? What pleasures to indulge in, what art to make, what to do with the family, what activities are worthwhile, and which ones might I not be able to even do in a few months.

For now, we are planning to start up chemo again right after the New Year, but I would not be truthful if I didn’t say that all these questions are big on my mind, every day. So that is my update for now. As always, I will do my best to describe my thoughts and this whole adventure in as honest and straightforward way as I can.

Dennis

Just for the Pleasure

Dennis sticks to a specific daily routine which includes office work on the computer and paper cutting in the studio. He continues to teach himself the harmonica, "just for the pleasure of doing it" he told me.


Yesterday Dennis had 4 liters of liquids drained from his abdomen. The doctor reminded us that we are on borrowed time at this point, but Dennis continues on, just for the pleasure of doing it.

Words from Dennis

We had a great Turkey Day, here at the homestead. Or to be more accurate, a great, Turduckin Day. For the past few years, we have cooked a professionally prepared dish called a Turduckin, which is a turkey, with a duck inside of it, with a chicken inside of it. It has no bones in it and the variety of the three meats is a nice variety. Cooked just like a regular turkey, it is very moist and delicious. Highly recommended.

Family assembled in force, with Darcy, his son Niles and friend Erica coming down from Boston, sister Kay from Hawaii, Steffen and Elizabeth up from North Carolina. Missing was Gary, but he was here in spirit and we had a nice phone chat with him.

Everybody fixed their favorite dishes and it was a real feast. Tasha put in her contribution of pumpkin pie, apple pie, and apple crisp. What a way she has with baking. Deeelisssshhhhh.
Weather was mixed, but didn't dampen anybody's enthusiasms. Still working on the leftovers tonight (Friday night).

We've had good fun playing pool, eating, backgammon, eating leftovers, going for walks, Darcy on the piano, more food, hilarious games on the Wii, and, of course, the snacking on leftovers.

A wonderful time, all around.

On the health front:
I continue to improve and recover from my two week stay in the hospital. It is slower going than I would prefer but it is steady. Food during the Thanksgiving time has tasted good and the nausea has been kept to a minimum. I am able to dress myself, fix meals and get around the house. I can't drive a car yet, because of the narcotics for pain control. My stamina and strength are still very low. I can walk up a flight of stairs, slowly, but by the time I get to the top, I have to stop and rest.

Next week we will do another CT scan and see what progress the tumor has made. It has been growing, no doubt, since I have been off treatment, and we need to get back into combat mode to try to shrink this thing again. The difficulty is that the treatment itself really beats me up and I'm not sure I'm strong enough yet to withstand the chemo. We are now finished with radiation and can't do any more on this body.

I have been having trouble with swelling in my ankles and lower legs. It doesn't really hurt, but does give us concern, in watching out for blood clots, fluid retention, etc. I am wearing support stockings (very stylish) which do help, and I try to keep my legs elevated as much as I can. They are pretty funny looking, since they are white. When I am wearing just the support hose, without pants, I look like that painting of King Louis the 14th (I think) by either Ingres or David (I think), wearing his panty hose outfit. What a dandy.

I have a nurse come in once a week to check on me and make sure we are tending me correctly and that things are going well. Since I still have a tube sticking out of my stomach, we have to watch for infection, and make sure the bandages aren't leaking too much. Rebecca is still doing a fantastic job on the home care. I couldn't do it without her.

I hope to get back to full energy at the office sometime soon. I do what I can from home, keeping up with emails, advising students if necessary, writing recommendations and occasional reports.

A Delightful Homecoming

Dennis says the food looks and tastes a whole lot better at home than in the hospital. He is happy to be home, spending the entire day grazing on food to make up for what he didn't get while away. The warm sentiments sent from so many have touched Dennis, making this journey easier to bear.

Dancing Lessons

Dennis is still in the hospital. Just when we think we are headed out the door, the word comes down that yet another consult or observation or procedure needs to be done before we can leave. The team of doctors working with Dennis are all wonderful, but sometimes I wonder if they actually talk to each other.

Today Dennis had a small procedure to help plug this leak that has sprung from the biliary catheter site. This does not complete the procedure that was begun last week which will still need to be done at some point, but it makes it more comfortable for him . . . and less messy for me!

Dennis is getting stronger and he is able to eat more diverse foods. The pain medications are tough on his system though, upsetting his stomach as well as his memory and logic. He continues to be a real trooper, never complaining, always ready with a joke, often at his own expense. Hopefully he will be able to come home tomorrow, but one never knows how the wind will blow from moment to moment. We just keep dancing to whatever tune the universe plays for us!

A Bump In The Road

After that wild roller coaster ride last week, Dennis was readmitted to the hospital on Friday. Even though weekends are always quiet in hospitals, Dennis' doctor was determined to figure out why he was not able to keep down even water. The antibiotics seemed to be the culprit, but it would take a few days for them to clear out of his system so Dennis got to sit out the weekend in a hospital bed. By Monday he was beginning to feel stronger and able to drink clear liquids. A series of upper GI tests today showed that everything was working just fine, confirming the doctor's suspicion that the antibiotics were causing all these problems. Dennis is feeling stronger now that he able to take some liquid nutrition.

We were so fortunate to have Steffen here to help us through the weekend, and to have fantastic food supplied by Rosemarie Green. The bump in the road is smoothed by the kind acts and caring thoughts of so many in our lives, for which we are so grateful.

A Roller Coaster Ride

When we left the hospital last night, we felt like we did when we first took home Jessica as a newborn: terrified. We had no idea what the future would hold, but we were ready for anything. Or so we thought.

Today has been quite the roller coaster ride. One moment everything is going smoothly, and then in the blink of an eye things skid in the opposite direction. The care of the biliary catheter which Dennis came home with turned out to be more difficult than either of us imagined. The visiting nurse arrived this afternoon at just the perfect time, calmly reassuring us that our concerns and fears were unfounded. And then she left. We promptly collapsed into second guessing our medical abilities before her car even left the driveway, just like in those early first days of parenting a newborn.

Dennis and I are able to actually enjoy this crazy roller coaster ride together. We manage to find humor in the absurdity and strangeness of this ride and are able to marvel at each others' strength. An exhilarating but exhausting ride.

Home Again

Dennis returned home today to a spectacularly exotic arrangement of orchids from our dear friend Sanaz, making us all giggle with delight.

Life feels good right now.

The Art of Medicine

The doctor has taken to doing drawings on index cards for us to better explain what the alphabet-soup words cannot. This drawing shows what the procedures Dennis has just undergone should have looked like, and all the little pen jab dots are part of the explanation of where the procedures did not work. The words on the other side of the card seem like a foreign language to me and so I don't even try to pronounce them. In fact, I no longer look them up on the internet either.

Dennis continues his stay in the hospital. While his lab test results are looking better and better, he is still having a difficult time with food, particularly the hospital food. He does better with the soups I bring from home. Rather than risk having any setbacks by sending him home too soon, he stays hooked up to liquids and medicines to ease his body back into some kind of balance.

Dennis is, and always has been, remarkably patient and persistent in his search for balance

A Balancing Act

Dennis is still in the hospital and will most probably remain there throughout the weekend. The doctors want to keep an eye on him to make sure he does not develop an infection and to balance his pain medications. Getting his pain under control is a high priority right now. It is a delicate balancing act, getting just the right dosage to control the pain but not make him too hallucinatory. Dennis did get out of bed on Friday and walk around a bit, although every move exhausts him. Being in his best Dennis mode, he does approach each of these hurdles with humor and great determination. He needs to wear a warrior costume for Halloween!

A Quick Update

I just got home from being in the hospital with Dennis all day after this procedure he underwent to help relieve the jaundice which has been plaguing him. The last two days were particularly tough on his system with the toxins building up making him feel pretty miserable. The procedure today, a long string of consonants which I cannot fathom pronouncing let alone remember, went medium. The doctors were not able to complete the procedure in the fashion they were hoping for, but what they were able to accomplish has helped. He is in a tremendous amount of pain from the procedure but is feeling better without all that goop inside. They may try to complete the procedure again next week, but we will just have to see how he feels and what the doctors say tomorrow. He may come home tomorrow, but we have to wait and see how he does tonight.

He hasn't lost his sense of humor or his need to watch the Phillies play tonight, all of which is an excellent sign!

Autumn Colors

Dennis has become as golden as the autumn colors because of his jaundice.

The procedure he went through last week to help alleviate that problem did not work, so we are going to try another procedure this week. This time Dennis will be admitted into the hospital for the procedure, giving him more time to recuperate under watchful eyes. We are hoping this will do the trick, ridding him of built up toxins and some of the associated pain.

Practicing their scariest faces, they all fit right in with our Halloween decorations.

Who needs a Halloween mask with mugs like these?

The Elephant In The Room

The elephant fills the entire room on days like today, squeezing out thoughts of anything else. I forgot just how difficult the side effects of chemo are on Dennis. One of the hardest parts is not being able to make it all instantly better, to be able to make the pain go away.

It is impossible to ignore the elephant in the room on days like today. Even though it tries to take up all of our breathing space, we find the space in our hearts to change our worry into wonder, our fear into excitement, our sadness into happiness, and this time of turmoil into a time of peace.

It's just that some days the elephant seems bigger than others.

Another Round

Today started the next round of treatment after having been away for a few months. The treatment this round will not include radiation, only chemo by infusion once per week and daily as a pill.


This time we felt a bit more prepared, a bit more calm, a bit more in a warrior position. Dennis blocked out the chaos of the large room by listening to some guided meditation tapes. I can't talk for Dennis, but I could see that his face, his entire body, looked relaxed and less pinched, less fearful, as he drifted in and out of listening to the tapes.

Attitude of Gratitude

Golfing was the perfect activity to keep reality at bay as we waited for Dennis' most recent test results. While the short course we played at was a bit surreal, we were able to enjoy the warm autumn day.

The anxiety of waiting to hear the test results and what the next 6 weeks, until the next test, will bring into our lives has its own surreal qualities. Since Dennis has been off of any kind of treatment for the past two months, this test was especially significant. We found that without any treatment, the tumor has grown slightly. This will bring Dennis back into chemotherapy, with the hopes of stopping the tumor growth and any spreading to other parts of his body.

We live from test to test with a profound sense of gratitude
that our days are so filled with so many experiences.

Dennis Talks About The Talk

On September 16th we had the “official” opening and reception to my art show at Arcadia University. It was such a special event to me that it is no exaggeration to say that I am still basking in the glow.

First of all, I couldn’t believe the turnout. The theatre was standing room only, with what must have been almost 200 people. And I think I knew virtually everybody in the room. A good representation from Philadelphia University of faculty and administrators and alums, plus many people I knew from the Beaver College (Arcadia University) days.

Then, how often do we get the chance to sit on stage for an hour and talk about ourselves and show history of stuff we’ve made? It was great to have my good friend (and accomplished artist) Royce Howes sit with me to guide a “conversation” about the history and the work. His thoughtful insights and broad knowledge of the territory made it easy to talk. The time just flew by. Based on comments afterwards, it seems that the audience thought it went well. I hope so, because it seemed to go smoothly from my side of the stage. At any rate, that’s as good as I can do.

The reception itself was hectic. There were so many people I wanted to talk to. But, just when I would get going on a conversation, I felt I had to move along to the next chat. No way around it, I guess, but kind of frustrating. The dinner in the castle was nice. It was hilarious to see the decades old photographs of the Picasso party that Bonnie Hayes showed. Then I tried to give a short, heartfelt talk with thanks to appropriate people, etc. The heartfelt part almost overtook me and I had to swallow hard to not start blubbering on too much. It was truly one of the most touching evenings of my entire life. Everybody should get to have one of these.

A Rant

It is hard not to rant about the health care system, especially now while it is such a hotly debated news item. My rant is not about the individuals who are employed within the system, but at the absurdity of the basic structure of the system. How can anyone think this health care system works when a patient is left in pain because the insurance company will not approve the doctor's written prescription because it is a Friday afternoon?

After a long week of watching Dennis manage his pain with his best western flair, a mixture of stoicism, denial, and curmedgeonlyness, the oncologist doubled the pain medication dosages to help Dennis manage his escalating and persistant pain. We were down to his very last pain pill as we rushed to the pharmacy with the new prescription in hand, hopeful that we would be able to get the medications needed before the next wave of pain washed over Dennis.

The pharmacist compassionately explained the prescription could not be filled until the insurance company approved it, which could happen only during regular business hours, and then usually took 2 to 3 days to complete. After some dramatic eye-contact conversation, we paid out of our own pockets the $200.00 for the pain medications, feeling relieved and fortunate that the next pain wave would start to be managed uninterrupted.

The cracks in the health care system are huge, even with the best private insurance. The system is massive and unwieldy, preventing the very thing it promotes: care.

Fictions + Facture

Dennis continues to amaze me. His public lecture and conversation with Royce Howes spoke to everyone of everything Dennis. Afterwards, Jessica commented on how she had heard everything Dennis talked about in his lecture as his philosophy to life and childrearing, but not as it applied to his artwork.

I got another view of Dennis and his connection to the world that night, one that allowed me to see the world through his eyes.

http://gargoyle.arcadia.edu/gallery/09-10/kuronen.htm

Summer 2009

The last day of Summer 2009 was spent with Dale, who was visiting after driving from South Dakota to Washington, D.C. to drop off a commissioned sculpture.


Dale spent his time here working with Dennis to get the final touches done on the work for the exhibition that opens next week. Dale got to witness up close a "last day of summer vacation crisis" as everyone prepared and steeled themselves to return to school schedules the next day. Dale took everyones mind off the tasks at hand with his great tales.


Dennis and Jessica knew when to stop and enjoy the last moments of Summer 2009.

Rules of the Pack

This Cub Scout Promise is one of Dennis' first forays into typography. I found it in the box of things he brought home from his office. His promise to "be square and to obey the rules of the pack" still holds true in his life even today.


The pack is working very hard helping Dennis frame his work for the exhibition of drawings and photo paintings, giving up precious last days of the summer vacation.



The Pack, working hard together.

Working the Weekend

Dennis and Royce worked the whole weekend on the "Conversation" they will be engaging in together at Arcadia University Art Gallery. They spent hours moving things around, looking from different angles, trying different approaches.


They talked over flooded basements, falling trees, and electrical blackouts, never at a loss for words and more words, always saying just one more thing.


Always working.

Working Change

Dennis has been working hard sorting through his office at Philadelphia University preparing it for his successor. That means taking all this stuff off the walls and shelves and bringing it all back home. Dennis has brought home boxes and boxes of treasures, which Jessica has now begun to photograph. Every object has a great story.

Another Kind of Work

Dennis went back to his job at Philadelphia University this week as a faculty member and a special emissary . . . creating his job as he does it.

Dennis is also working on a series of large photo/paintings for his exhibition at Arcadia University Gallery. The opening is 16 September, but the work needs to be at the Gallery for hanging at the end of this month. With such a tight deadline looming over his shoulder, it is hard to tell if Dennis is really getting to enjoy this studio time as much as he could.



But, as you can see, Dennis seems to be in his element and happy about it all: surrounded by his girls, the Vermeers, painting late into the night.



Sometimes.

Day 205

It has been 205 days since January 28, 2009.

On that day, an event created an unexpected and decisive moment where you discover that life has forever been changed by forces beyond your control. Dennis' diagnosis of inoperable Stage III pancreatic cancer came at 12:30pm, right in the middle of lunch. The very kind doctor who gently broke the news to us still had crumbles of his hurried lunch around his lips. The combination of the news and the dusting of crumbs falling about immediately caused me to black out.

The time between Dennis' diagnosis and the beginning of treatment was filled with anxiety, confusion, fear, and some extreme life enhancing surgeries. Dennis started a clinical trial at Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia on Monday 9 March 2009. The trial required that Dennis take an oral chemo pill daily, and spend two full days every week at the Cancer Center, receiving multiple bouts of radiation and chemo infusions. The collision with the toxins used to combat cancer take a serious toll on a person's body. Dennis lost over 40lbs and felt terrible most of the time. The attitude of gratitude which guides our daily lives helped Dennis focus and fight the fight of his life.

On Day 205, we find ourselves in a happy limbo. After a well needed hospitalization, it was determined that Dennis had received enough radiation and chemo treatments. He is taking a 2 month sabbatical from chemotherapy and building his strength and weight back up again. Tests will then be done to determine the next course of action.

Dennis is working hard on getting work together for a solo exhibition that opens on Wednesday 16 September 2009. A detailed posting will follow.