The folks in Systems & Procedures at Mayo Clinic are innovators and problem solvers. So it's no surprise that when faced with the challenge of properly recognizing the division's "80-some" staff for the work they do, its leaders felt the need for more than your average "thank you." As S&P Unit Head Julie Yost tells us, "We thought, 'How do we even begin to talk about all that they've accomplished? So we said, 'You know, let's just do something crazy.'" Mission … accomplished. That "something crazy" took the form of a very entertaining video parody of the YouTube sensation "What does the fox say?" The appropriately titled, "What does the boss say?" was created by Yost and her fellow unit heads on their own time (read: nights and weekends; also read: without the use of any Mayo resources) as a way to say "thank you" to employees for the "ton of work" that gets piled on them throughout the year. "Nicole Blegen said it best: 'The hardest thing we do is try to recognize our employees, and we can never do it well enough,'" Yost tells us.
"Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding! Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding! Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!" The Fox
How do the Sisters of St. Francis honor one of their own on her 100th birthday? Well, if yesterday's celebration of Sister Antoine Murphy's centennial is any indication, they have birthday pie (if that's the birthday Sister's dessert of choice), put some candles on it, light said candles, and then have a couple guys from Facilities rush in with fire extinguishers and pretend they were called to put out a fire. That's just how the Sisters roll. There was a good share of laughter mixed in with tributes to a Sister who for many years "ran a tight ship" as a nursing supervisor at Saint Marys. Sister Lauren Weinandt noted that, "Birthdays must be good for you. The more you have, the longer you live." And the old reliable, "You know you are getting older when the birthday candles cost more than the birthday cake." She also noted, in all seriousness, that her friend is a "gift from God" and "full of Irish wit," so we're going to assume Sister Antoine enjoyed the commentary as much as the rest of the crowd gathered for the blessed occasion.
There are many ways you can measure the success of the annual Eagles Cancer Telethon in Rochester. You might note that this year marks the 60th year of the event that raises funds for cancer research at Mayo Clinic, the Hormel Institute, and the University of Minnesota. Or, that it's the "longest running locally produced event of its kind in the country," according to KTTC, which televises the event. Or that it's raised more than $11 million for cancer research at Mayo Clinic over the years. Or, as Mayo Cancer Center Director, Robert Diasio, M.D., suggests, that nearly every Mayo Clinic Cancer researcher has been impacted by support from the Eagles in some way. For Mayo, those involved say the Eagles continue to have the longest-running record of philanthropy in our history. "The Fifth District Eagles Cancer Telethon has advanced cancer prevention, detection and treatment by providing Mayo Clinic Cancer Center with more than $11 million over the past four decades," says Dr. Diasio. "Their support provides the spark and tinder for discoveries in the fight against cancer."
"May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face; the ...
Steve Turchan, a Neenah, Wis., psychiatrist, considers himself a lucky man, with a good life, a great family and career, and faith. Any health issues he's experienced, he says, are just ‘bumps in the road of life.’ That said, he's had quite the bump-filled journey. According to a story in the Post-Crescent newspaper, the last 28 years of Turchan’s life have included a litany of medical issues. He was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s disease at the age of 24, followed by eye, bladder and prostate cancer, a heart attack on his birthday in 2009, triple bypass surgery, 11 stents and two bouts of sepsis. Then, this past March, Turchan learned that his heart was failing, and he would need a transplant. In July, as he packed his bags to begin the transplant waiting game at Mayo Clinic, he came prepared to do something he hadn't done in quite some time., Although Turchan had been taught to paint at the age of four by his mom, he could count on one hand the number of paintings he's done since his health odyssey began. So along with the usual toiletries and whatnot, he also packed painting supplies.
The Energizer Bunny’s got nothing on Carroll Sharp of Jacksonsville, who, since the late 1960s, has been going and going and going … to donate blood. As the Florida Times-Union and First Coast News report, all that donating has earned him a spot as the newest member of The Blood Alliance at Mayo Clinic's "100-gallon Club." Sharp is just the fourth member of the distinguished club, whose members all have donated (you guessed it) at least 100 gallons of blood in their lifetimes. Sharp's milestone pint was donated last week at The Blood Alliance at Mayo Clinic in Florida. First Coast News writes that Sharp, a patient escort volunteer at Mayo Clinic in Florida since March 2012, rolled up his sleeve and made his first donation in the late 1960s while living in Louisville, Ky., and then kept things going after moving to Jacksonville in 1976. He started by donating blood and then offered his platelets, too, after Mayo Clinic staff encouraged him to do so during a visit to the Blood Donation Center. That led to more than 550 platelet donations. And not only that, he's also been identified as a human leukocyte antigen match for several patients over the years, helping to reduce their risk of blood transfusion rejections. Knowing he's helped patients, Sharp says, has been more than enough to numb any discomfort he may have felt while donating. "The stick that you get with a needle is just a small pain," he tells First Coast News. "But you know you're helping someone."
"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time." Thomas Merton
"I am kind of a big deal. People know me." These lines were immortalized by character Ron Burgundy in the popular film "Anchorman." We're not sure if it was his perfectly groomed hair or deep baritone voice that started it, but rumor has it that Mayo Clinic patient Mort Crim, prominent national correspondent and former Detroit anchorman, was a sort of inspiration for the parody that is Burgundy's character. But while he's not given to brag like Ron Burgundy, Mort actually is kind of a big deal. For starters, his list of celebrity interviewees is long and impressive. Photos of President Bill Clinton, Michael Jordan, Larry King and Walter Cronkite, among others, decorate his walls. As a national correspondent, Mort covered significant events such as the first landing on the moon, the assassinations of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and President John F. Kennedy, the beginnings of Watergate, and the Vietnam War. But among all his assignments, perhaps one of the most difficult was his battle with not one but two types of cancer: prostate and colon. And, to add to this, his wife Renée had breast cancer. Twice. The good news is that both Mort and Renée were treated successfully at Mayo Clinic in Florida.
It's a fact of life that at some point, some of us, or someone close to us, will require hospice care or palliative care. We're hearing more about both of these in recent years. But you might ask, "Aren't the two care models basically the same? Don't they go hand-in-hand?" That's a question posed to the good folks at Mayo Clinic Medical Edge at the end of last year (which is to say, a little more than a week ago). And thankfully, they're always quick with an answer. In a Dec. 31 "Tuesday Q&A" column, Jacob Strand, M.D., a Palliative Care Clinic physician at Mayo Clinic, writes that while palliative care and hospice care share a common primary goal (making patients feel better), there are important differences. Hospice care by itself is a "philosophy that focuses on enhancing quality of life for patients who likely have less than six months to live." Whereas palliative care is a more "specialized" method of care for patients with serious illnesses that focuses on providing relief from symptoms "whatever the diagnosis or outlook" may be.
Renae Claeys, a nurse at Mayo Clinic, always hopes to bring a smile when she ventures out on a medical mission trip. That is, after all, the purpose of the organization she's hitched her wagon to, Smile Network, which Claeys discovered a few years back through a colleague. During her latest venture, there were some emotional tears of joy mixed in with those newfound smiles. (There probably always are, but there's nothing quite like a good song to bring on the waterworks. We'll get to that in a minute.) According to the Rochester Post-Bulletin, this Minneapolis-based nonprofit "has been performing miracles around the world for almost 10 years," and Claeys has been part of that journey for the past four of those. Smile Network provides "life-altering, reconstructive surgeries and related health care services to impoverished children and young adults in developing countries." They make it sound pretty simple. "In the space of 45 minutes and for just $500, Smile Network can provide a child with a happier, healthier future," the group says. Of course, it also takes a team of willing and skilled volunteers.