QUILT INDEX RECORD

12-8-6793

Who documented this quilt?

Michigan Quilt Project; Michigan State University Museum Collection; Quilts and Health

Where are the records for this quilt housed?

Michigan State University Museum

Michigan Quilt Project Number:

17.0009

If this quilt is owned by a museum, enter the accession number:

2017:2.1

Essay:

WHATEVER IT TAKES AN OVARIAN CANCER DIARY

(applique - lines of pain)

The pain first appeared in March and steadily increased until the surgery in June.

The pain grew from an one Advil pain to a four Advil plus two Tylenol pain. And changed from general to the left side. Sitting made it much worst.

There were days when I was walking or biking when I felt little pain and I held onto the hope that it would just go away.

Because it is on more than one organ, it is a stage 3 cancer, but the doctor thinks that it will act like a stage 1 cancer. We have to wait for the pathology reports.

I think that I knew even before I was completely awake from the surgery. I could see Steve sitting in a chair. He may have been asleep, but I think he knew I was coming to. He did not say anything. That is when I knew. When Dr Stubbs came, he told me.

A nurse suggested a journal as a way of dealing with my cancer.

The nurse said to avoid stairs as much as possible. My quilt studio is downstairs. I need to be there, doing the creative work and the machine work. I have handwork for upstairs, but handwork is for those times that I haven't the patient to sit still.

According to the chemo nurse, I will lose my hair 18 days after the first chemo session. That will be July 23.

Today I had to go in for a blood test. Afterwards I bought fabric. Tomorrow I have the second chemo session. My mantra has become "Whatever it takes." Especially when someone is sticking needles in me.

It first appeared as a cramp like pain. That was maybe March. I thought that it would go away, but after a couple of weeks I decided to see the doctor. Thus began the slow process of identifying the problem. Wait for the doctor's appointment. Wait for the ultrasound. Wait for the ultrasound results. Wait for the CT scan. Wait for the CT scan results. No waiting for the surgeon appointment, but wait again for the surgery date. Now wait for the appointment with the oncologist.

I want to be told that I will be OK and the truth.

Both Dr Guyton and Dr Stubbs said there was only a slight chance that the cyst would be cancerous.

They told me that the cancerous cyst was touching the colon. They took out part of my colon, I don't remember how much. I will have to ask again. Also they removed some kind of lining and some lymph nodes.

The chemo consisted of seven drugs. The chemicals, Taxol and Carboplatin, were given last. Prior to them was a drug to prevent side affects. The side affects drug (Ethyol) was processed by four drugs to prevent side affects of the side affects drug. I slept thought maybe half of the 6 hours. I read a little, but my eyes became blurry. Mostly I listened to a book tape and drew blocks for my doodle quilt. I was extremely tired, but not sleepy when I got home. I feel better now (bed time) except that my arms are a little swollen above the wrist.

(tumors on colon and ovary)

The way my left ovary, its destroyed fallopian tube and my colon looked to me.

Tomorrow is my first chemo session. I have not thought about it much because I cannot begin to imagine what it will be like or how I will react to it. As I tell people, I will just have to wait and see what happens. I am however tired of being sick.

Sometimes I think that I am feeling fine, getting over the latest chemo when suddenly tears pop out for no reason. Maybe that is the only way to get the chemicals out of my body.

Sometimes I don't believe all of this is really happening to me.

Today I am feeling really down. It is not that I doubt that I will get well but that it is taking so long.

(large group of trees)

Today I decided that I am well enough to drive. I went the Mint Hill Park. A solitary walk in the woods greatly improves my mood.

(a broken rainbow)

When I was released from the hospital, I felt like rainbows, but when I tried to draw one on the way home, it turned out broken and chaotic.

Jane Burdick, one of my quilting friends, has very large ovarian cyst. Her surgery is August 1. This information was upset me quite a bit.

The most disturbing thing that I have heard - the oncologist want to talk to my daughter Melanie about her risk of getting ovarian or breast cancer.

My hair started coming out Sunday night, more than a week before the nurse said it would happen. After two days, I have probably lost about half of it. I still have a lots to lose as I have always had very thick hair. So far it has not bothered me except for the aggravation of all that loose hair. I may feel differently once the bald spots start to appear.

It is generally recommended that you shave your head when your hair starts coming out. That was not something I could do . On Thursday when much of my hair was gone, I decided to cut it to an half inch all over. But instead of cutting, I cried. It was all going to be gone soon anyway. Friday the rate of hair lost had slowed down and I cut it with no regrets. Sometimes an idea just takes getting used to. It is a terrible hair cut, but no one has to see it. It is now Tuesday nd I still have some hair.

Tomorrow is my forth chemo and I so don't want to do it.

My cancer is Epithelial Endometriod Cancinoma class III C.

PATHOLOGY REPORT

Left ovary and fallopian tube - tumor 7.5 x 4.5 x 4.0 cm fallopian tube effaced

Colon - tumor 3.5 cm metastatic carcinoma

Pelvic sidewall - mass metastatic carcinoma

Right ovary and fallopian tube - grossly unremarkable

Left lymph nodes - negative

Dmentum- negative

This is the fourth day after my second chemo and I am very tired and I do hate wasting a whole day.

I am glad that this is ovarian cancer instead of breast cancer. Because of my mother breast cancer is still an emotional issue with me.

(beach umbrella)

Isak Dinesen said "The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears or the sea."

For a week I sweated as I sat under a beach umbrella and listened to the sea and cried. I did at least feel much better.

At my third chemo session, I understood the doctor to say that my surgery had heled. So the next day I took my bike to the Greenway. I only rode about 4 miles and it felt great. However the next day a place on my left side was sore. I tried again after the fourth chemo and found that I was exhausted.

Dr Gelder said two things. It is OK to cry. The chemotherapy will be easier than you think.

The Charlotte Quilter's Guild gave me a quilt while I was in the hospital. I like to be cool at night so I fold the quilt and wrap it around my abdomen where the incision is. It is a great comfort.

Often while working on a quilt, I forget how tired I am, but after a while I start making mistakes.

One of the worst parts for me is the lost of taste a few days after each chemo. Melanie says that I should eat less at these time, but I eat more in my search to find something that tastes good. And when I do find it, I feel so much better.

(quilt block centers)

The first week that I was home from the hospital, I knew that I would feel better if I could do some machine work on a quilt. I pieced that centers for 40 blocks. I did feel better, but when I was ready to finish the blocks, I discovered that all 40 centers had to be redone.

After my lab test following my fourth chemo, the nurse called to say that my white blood count was low and to be careful for the next 3 days. I begin to notice that I was having trouble breathing when I went up stairs. When I went for my fifth chemo, my counts were OK but low enough that I now get shots to bring up the red count.

At the hospital, Melanie told me she had not starting looking for a jog because if I did not do well she would want to look for job in Charlotte. I don't want her to base her life on my health. She can't. She can't. I am going to do well. Melanie, child, for both our sakes, you have to believe that I will be OK.

It is a week after my fifth chemo and I have had a very bad day, a very emotionally unstable day.

The second most disturbing thing I have heard. The chemotherapy will not kill any microscopic breast cancer cells that I have. In fact chemo increases the risk of getting a different type of cancer.
(four hearts representing the quilt that the guild gave me)

Today was the sixth lower dose treatment. I have had a more difficult time than usual. It took the nurse three tries to find a blood vein that worked. It took a long time to get over the Benadryl and then I threw up a couple of times, but I think it was an intestinal thing.

Today I had lunch with Phyllis Simpson Garner who is recovering from breast cancer. She was very willing to talk about her experiences. She said that I could call her any time. She is doing well now, but has had some difficult times.

The weekend following my fifth lower dose treatment has been very difficult. I am just so so tired.

There was a woman getting a treatment today who had ovarian cancer (a different kind than mine)three years ago. Hers has returned to her brain, liver and other places. She is again doing chemo and her brain is clear of cancer. I was amazed at how calmly she was talking about all of this.

Counting my pain which started early April of last year, I have not been sick a whole year with 6 months to go.

I was never afraid of dying. I don't know why.

Today I am so tired, so tired - so much time wasted.

Jane gave me a newspaper clipping about the national Ovarian Cancer Coalition. there is a Charlotte chapter . I looked at the website. It is a very good website, but it depressed me. I don't want to be reminded of how few people survive.

(cat head)

Our new tabby kitten AC is a big help to me especially making it easier for me to sit and do nothing while watching him play or petting him as he sits in my lap.

(pink breast cancer ribbon behind the turquoise ovarian cancer ribbon)

I could not have managed these months of chemo without an antidepressant.

The first 6 chemotherapy treatments were to make sure that all of the cancer cells were killed. The last 2 were to prevent its return. Prior to the 7th chemo, my white blood count was too low. I was fearful that the chemo would be delayed. I wanted the whole thing over with as soon as possible. When I saw the doctor that day, he wanted me to consider switching treatments and enter the second phrase of a study. It would mean either 3 or 12 lower dose, less frenquent, one chemical treatments. The number to be randomly chosen. The study had already shown that the many lower dose treatments were better than the two higher dose treatments at preventing the return of ovarian cancer. They needed to find out how many lower dose one were best. The doctor wanted me to take a week to decide. I knew that if I left the hospital that day without the 7th chemo, I would not have the courage to do it. So I decided right then to do the study. Now I wait to hear if I will be chosen for the 3 or 12 month treatment group.

Having a relative who had breast cancer increases your risk of getting ovarian cancer.

I have always said that I would rather have cancer than a stroke. With cancer you have a chance. A stroke can change who you are.

Five more to go. I am so ready for the next part of my life.

I was chosen for the 12 month study group. I had half hoped for that group thinking more must be better, but that is such a long, long time.

After my 10th lower dose, I was sick and lost some of my ability to taste.

Today what the 8th of my lower dose treatments. The doctor and all of the nurses kept saying "Only four more to go." Four more seems like forever to me.


Sometimes I wonder if I can make two more of these treatments.

( five heads, with lots of hair, a little bit of hair, a wig, a baseball cap and the beginning of returning hair)

Me and my wild black and gray hair.

Me and the last little bit of hair that refused to fall out.

Me and the straight frosted wig.

Me and one of my hats.

Me and the small amount of hair that returned when I changed treatments.

Exactly four weeks after my last chemo, I was in Houston at the International Quilt Festival instead of the chemo lab. I had stopped taking my antidepressant a couple of weeks earlier and was wondering if I had stopped too soon. An ovarian cancer survivor at the show's ovarian cancer booth told me that now I had to deal with the emotional part. The piecing and quilting of these diary entries is helping me. Hopefully by the time I finish the binding, I will be healed emotionally also.

The interim results of the study is that the 12 month people are doing much better than the 3 month people.

Sometimes you just feel sorry for yourself. Them it is best just to go ahead and cry. It is the quickest way to feel better. Just hope that you can manage to do it when no one is around and that you don't get a phone call.

I don't think that I will ever again volunteer to give blood or do anything else that requires being struck with a needle.

The chemotherapy has become such a big part of my life that is is hard to believe that is it over.

"One more." "One more." "One more." has become my mantra.

Sometimes this cancer treatment seems like a part of me, something that always has been and always will be.

The first real sign that I am getting over the treatments. Five and a half weeks after the last chemo, I went orienteering and completed the entire course. I took twice as long as it should have, but last month I was too exhausted to continue before I had finished one third of the course.

(a complete rainbow with a golden pot)

My rainbow is whole again and I have that golden pot of joy at the end.

I know that someday that rainbow that is my life will either fade or break apart, but I am not letting go of that pot of joy.
REMARKS
    
In 2001 I had surgery to remove a very painful ovarian cyst. It turned out that I had ovarian cancer. As I was leaving the hospital a nurse suggested keeping a diary as a way of dealing with the cancer. I had seen a couple of magazine articles about diary quilts and decided that would be the correct choice for me.

When I had something to say, I would pull a fabric piece that related to the way that I felt at the moment out of the scrap bag and write on it. Sometimes I would add fusible appliqué. After 18 months of chemo, I was told that the cancer was gone and unlikely to return. That day I began to put all of the pieces together. I was surprised by how much symbolism I had put into the appliqué. I consider myself someone who does not understand symbolism. Even the quilting stitches are symbolic. The constant change from straight lines to zigzag represents the frequent mood changes that I experienced during this time. I believe that I was able to successfully use symbolism because I was it strictly for myself.

Although I made it just for myself, once it was complete I realized that it could be used to help people understand some of the many emotions that cancer patients experience. I also hope that it helps women be more aware of ovarian cancer. It can be survived and there are sometimes early stage symptoms.

This quilt was one of three quilts I created in response to my cancer. One was a comfort quilt, a free form yellow four patch, called "Sometimes You Just Need A Yellow Quilt". The other, "An Unknown Person is Many Different Worlds", was my wildest quilt to date. It was in response to being asked to take part in a twelve month clinic trial. I felt that I had no choice about agreeing to the clinical trial and that I had no control over my life. The quilt started out as a rebellion again my lack of control of what was happening to me. It ended up being much more. The chemo had weakened me physically leaving me much time to just think. The motif was based on a photo that I had taken of an unidentified wild flower. It became about how the people we know in different situations have a different impression of who we are. Few, if any people, totally know us.

I would like for this quilt to be used in any way that can benefit cancer patients especially to help family and friends to understand what they are going thru. I would also like to make women more aware of ovarian cancer.

I have found health care workers to appreciate it more than other people. Friends and family of people who have cancer, but will not talk about it seem to appreciate it also. Some people seem to want to stay as far away from anything connected to cancer as possible. - Phyllis Tarrant

Quilt's title:

Whatever It Takes: An Ovarian Cancer Diary

When was the form filled out?

3/15/2017

Quilt top made by:

Tarrant, Phyllis

Quilted by:

Tarrant, Phyllis

Where the quilt was made, country:

United States

Time period:

2000-2025

When was the quilt finished?

2003

Quiltmaker's gender:

Female

This is a:

Finished quilt

How wide is the quilt?

50"

How long is the quilt?

58"

What color is the quilt?

Blue; Pink; Yellow

Describe the quilt's layout:

Nontraditional or art

Size of quilt blocks:

Rectangles of various sizes

Number of borders:

1

Describe the borders:

3 1/2" wide

Piecing techniques used to make the quilt top:

Machine Piecing

Applique techniques used to make the quilt top:

Fusible Applique

Embellishment techniques used to make the quilt top:

Ink drawing

How is the binding made?

Separate binding applied; Straight grain; Front turned to back

What is the width of the binding (measure on the top only)?

less than a half inch

How wide is the binding (measure on the top only)?

3/16"

How are the layers held together?

Machine quilting

Person filling out this form is:

Quiltmaker

Ownership of this quilt is:

Public- Michigan State University Museum

Quilt owner's name:

Michigan State University Museum

Quilt owner's city:

East Lansing

Quilt owner's county:

Ingham

Quilt owner's state:

Michigan (MI)

Details

• 

Who photographed this quilt?

Pearl Yee Wong

Copyright holder:

Michigan State University Museum, all rights reserved