2.12.2013

Embracing Change and Chance

Last Thursday, the surgeon explained that the
tumor-free right side of my thyroid hasn't been
functioning well and is declining fast. He said that
with the new thyroid medication, the right side of
the thyroid will slowly shrivel up and not function
at all.

Flashback. July 2003, I wrap fresh pears in copper
wire, repeatedly pierce them with a pencil point,
and then place them in the hot summer sun on a
studio roof at the Minneapolis College of Art and
Design. It takes only a few days, and the pears are
shriveled and transformed. (A few weeks later I find
out that I am expecting our second child.)
Wrapped Pear,2003, aka Thyroid Lobe in a Cage






















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In 2003 I wrote, "Exposing the copper wire
wrapped pears to the forces of nature proved to
be a visceral process of embracing change and
chance... Later, when I had these on display, it
was interesting how people would first cringe,
then move closer with curiosity."

I realize now that the sun-dried pear remains
have an eerie similarity to the texture and form
of a thyroid lobe, especially one in the early
process of shriveling up.

Gratefully Benign, and other incision hits

The diagnosis is benign! Unlike a year ago, I am more
apt to believe it since my entire left thyroid lobe and
the walnut-sized tumor that had made its home in the
left thyroid are gone. Always the skeptic, I wish I could
have seen what they removed. Yet, since I almost fainted
when I saw my neck incision in the mirror, it is best to
believe them. Once the pain subsides and thyroid levels
are in check, I am going to be just fine--taking this
time to rest, heal and be gratefully benign.

A totally unexpected response to all of this has been
flashbacks of February 2001, when our first daughter
was born. The parallels to my c-section 12 years ago are
uncanny: the wide horizontal incision, followed by the
inevitable scarring, the pain when using surrounding
muscles, doctors telling me how easy the recovery
should be--pffffft, my irrational rants in the recovery
room (those nurses have stories), Dan by my side helping
me walk, returning home to a yard piled with snow,
feeling grateful...  This time though, our oldest daughter
 is 12, our youngest is 8 and they are helping take care
of me.