Self-preservation

"I do believe that this is how I see the world: Through petals and words...and the preservation of gilded architectural lines." -- Michelle Fimon

Update -- 2018

It's been quite some time since the last activity here. Another cancer diagnosis ensued -- this time thyroid cancer -- and health complications, such as multiple infections (immune system is weakened) and a blood clot in my jugular vein, put the writing project on hold. I've had opportunities to research and to reflect on the direction of the book; life...as it unfolds...often provides a new vantage point and different perspective. The great thing about that is the new material it generates and the depth & richness that is produced within it. I hope to begin sharing again as I venture back to working on the book. Thank you for being a part of this journey.

More research this week. I have discovered the name of the person who performed the lobotomy on my great grandmother. After a few hours of searching, I now have his medical career history. He comes from a line of respected physicians from St. Paul. As I start building parts of the book, I also have a list of people to interview and possibly to meet with in person at some point. The neurosurgeon who performed this surgery is deceased, but I would like to talk to his son, who is currently a surgeon and has been a donor for The National Trust for Historic Preservation. Oddly enough, this man -- who removed a portion of my relative's pre-frontal cortex -- was connected to the U of M, where I had a neuro-psych evaluation following chemotherapy and breast cancer due to the neurotoxic effects of both cancer treatment and ptsd, paired with premature menopause that also came as a result of cancer treatment. ~~ Once again, my emotions are at odds. I struggle to grasp how such a good man who saved lives could also be the one who turned my grandmother into a partial person. I don't blame him; I simply am trying to wrap my head around the practices of the early to mid 1900's, especially the treatment of women. I've been reading a great deal about the institutionalization of Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of the famous author who grew up in the same neighborhood as my great grandmother's lobotomist. Consequently, it was in the same area that I lived as 1999 turned into the new millennium. Ernest Hemingway spent the last portion of his life at St. Mary's Hospital/Mayo Clinic, admitted as a psychiatric patient. I continue to find these odd connections and threads that weave the story in and out of my life. My writing mentor told me last year that the right pieces would come together as I whole-heartedly put myself into this project; she is right. Despite the roller coaster of feelings that come with the research, I am completely convinced that this is a book I've always been meant to write. Every day assures me more and more of that. Just like at other points in my life, God has things flow with such ease when I am on the right path, pursuing my purpose. The doors just continue to open and I am amazed at what lies before me. -- Michelle

Lobotomy Documentation

I recently had the chance to make a debut visit to the Minnesota History Center, and I located information on my great grandmother, at both Fergus Falls Asylum and at Anoka. I now have copies of her commitment papers and documentation of her lobotomy. I can't even begin to explain the complexity of the emotions I felt when I found her name and the date in the hand-written medical logs -- horror, despair, shock, relief and elation all mixed into one single moment in time...

In Search of My Asylum

 

 

…the story: Preservation, rehabilitation, restoration, and reconstruction of the emotional life.

…the initiators: Dorothea Dix and Dr. Thomas Kirkbride.

…the landscape: Sprawling knolls, flower-lined fountains and orchards of plums.

…the construction: Mid-1800’s – architectural havens of moral treatment for the mentally ill.

…the structure: Exquisite and ornate estates; Romanesque and Gothic design of sweeping proportion.

…the inhabitants: Sufferers of melancholy, hysteria, feeblemindedness, absent menses, civil war trauma.

…the reality: Overcapacity leading to pre-Kirkbride conditions – filth, neglect, abuse, exploitation.

…the abandonment: A new medical model of psychotropic treatment in the 1960’s empties the wards.

…the aftermath: Collapsing foundations – people and structures exposed to the outer world.

…the reason: Agnes Bernadette Thorn, my great grandmother; former patient.

…the architect of the blog and manuscript: Michelle Fimon, survivor & poet with PTSD

…the legacy: Whispered stories of a writer who, like an architect, learns to work with empty space.