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Robin Mindy Glassman changed her name from r-O-B-I-N to r-o-b-y-n at age 25. In 1972 she was diagnosed with hodgkin's disease and had to have her name changed. Glassman's name was never used in medical records, but was adopted by the school. He now has a signature that helps identify the time period of an artwork.
Robin Mindy Glassman changed her name from r-O-B-I-N to r-o-b-y-n at age 25. In 1972 she was diagnosed with hodgkin's disease and had to have her name changed. Glassman's name was never used in medical records, but was adopted by the school. He now has a signature that helps identify the time period of an artwork.
Robin Mindy Glassman changed her name from r-O-B-I-N to r-o-b-y-n at age 25. In 1972 she was diagnosed with hodgkin's disease and had to have her name changed. Glassman's name was never used in medical records, but was adopted by the school. He now has a signature that helps identify the time period of an artwork.
When I was born they named me, Robin Mindy Glassman.
At 11, I changed the
spelling of my name from R-O-B-I-N to R-O-B-Y-N and then back to R-O-B-I-N at age 25. With each change I was looking for a makeover, a visibly tangible easy way of marking that I was in control of my own identity. My middle name was and is, rarely used. As an artist, my changing signature helps identify the time period of an artwork. The only place the spelling of my name did not change was in my medical records. It was a time of new beginnings, when Ogden and Franklin Elementary School merges together forming Woodmere Junior High School North and with it the anticipation and anxieties of new teachers, new relationships, class schedules and more freedom. During the prior summer, I decided to start spell my name R-O-B-Y-N because I liked the way it looked. Aside from leaving sleep away camp early because I kept getting sick and couldnt wait to get home and see my friends, life was good. I was looking forward to a fresh start. Seventh grade was exciting, filled with Bar and Bat Mitzvah parties, and endless social possibilities. It was also challenging to adjust to the new environment but I slowly did and in a few months I fit right in. I was surprised that the school had readily accepted my new spelling and it was soon adopted on all my formal school papers. Then in July 1972 things changed. The following is a poem I wrote a couple of years ago: Bumper Pool, Walkie Talkies, Backgammon- Long Island Jewish Hospital Slight inflammation of the Lymph nodes, Marcus Welby, MD Hodgkins Disease episode, out of date Medical Dictionary gets thrown away! They didnt use the word CANCER. They were advised not to tell me the truth. Smiley Faces, Escher & Norman Rockwell puzzles, Hang in There, Baby poster hung on my bedroom door! The nightmare is theirs; I go about my routine with slight alterations. Throwing up in the morning, first weeks of 8 th grade, afterschool drives with Mom for treatment. Lying there, eyes closed, heavy bib covers my body: it is peacefully in the dark room. Soon we are back to normal. I receive special treatment for overcoming something big and am rewarded with a check for $500 and a trip to Puerto Rico. I get on the volleyball and basketball team and resume my junior high school rebellious activities. At sometime in the middle of the year things are just not right. I am alone, there is pain, there is silence, and there is withdrawal. Pain became the new normal. When I can sleep, I place a big fluffy pillow between my legs. My new distrust in doctors turns into anger as they attempted to pick at my social history as cause for my physical distress. Looking back at those years I can see where the doctors may have misconstrued the obvious signs of recurrence. A 13-year old girl just adjusting to hormonal and social changes, but give me a break. Even if I didnt know I had cancer, they did!
When I was thirteen, I had this amazing dream, in it I saw a small brushed gold bell necklace, which had a tiny diamond clacker. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever seen. When I woke up surrounded by my sister, mother, father, and best friend, Marla, I started describing the necklace. As soon as I started, one of them opened up a blue velvet jewelry box and there it was. Pearl Friedlander, my mothers best friend, Babs mother, had come to visit me with this gift. I had been on and off asleep from the Thorazine I was given to help with the side effects of my first dose of Adriamyacin. Evidently, I had some visitors while I was out and the so-called dream wasnt one at all. This was to be the start of many jeweled gifts for just being sick. But what I will never forget is that feeling that something I thought was not real, was in fact reality. I was at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan, NY on the 17 th floor of the old building after recently discovering that the prior years Hodgkins Disease had recurred. I wasnt suppose to be getting admitted, but complications occurred on the way to the outpatient clinic, so they decided it was best to begin the initial testing and chemotherapy as an inpatient. Away from home and in the city that thus far had only been associated with museum visits, shows, and unfamiliar restaurants, added a new layer of dimension to the already surreal world of having cancer. At this point I feel compelled to describe the conditions of what was and is still now, the state-of-the-art best cancer hospital in the world.