In an open letter to friends and colleagues, Kevyn Burger, mid-morning host at FM 107 and, as I’ve said for two decades, one of the great gals/babes of the Twin Cities, announced she has breast cancer and will undergo aggressive treatment beginning this weekend. A reporter at KSTP-TV and then WCCO-TV before settling into her present radio gig, Burger will return to the mic for an hour tomorrow morning, from 9 to 10 AM to discuss her situation, and then take an indefinite hiatus for surgery and chemo.
FM 107 GM Dan Seeman says his plan is to find a regular fill-in, instead of cobbling together a cast of rotating hosts. He hasn’t yet decided who that will be.
I don’t want to go all maudlin here, because Kevyn wouldn’t relate to it or approve. But a big part of her charm has always been her “player” attitude. (Which explains why she ranks high as a “guy gal”.) She understands the media game, has played it well with her own unique style and continues to survive with dignity intact. Not everyone can say that.
Hang tough, Kevyn.
(Her message is attached inside.)
Hello friends,
I am sorry to be contacting you as part of a group e mail. Trust me, I would prefer to tell each one of you the news that I am about to impart over a walk, or coffee, or a glass of wine. However, I simply can’t bring myself to dial each one of of you to deliver this news personally.
Those of you who worked with me in news know I was never one to bury a lede. So here is is:
I have been diagnosed with breast cancer.
I had a routine screening mammogram they day after I did the Walk for the Cure. I expected to get that ‘see ya next year’ postcard in the mail. Instead, a call, the need for another look, the need for an ultrasound, the need for a needle biopsy.
And the confirmation of the diagnosis: invasive ductal carcinoma. In two places.
The good news is that this cancer has not moved to my liver, bones or lungs.
The bad news is that I actually have two lumps and they are periolously near my lymph nodes.
So, I am scheduled for surgery at the soonest possible date. I will have a full mastectomy on June 2 at 9:30 a.m. This will be followed by immediate reconstruction. I will recover for a few days at Abbott Northwestern, then come home, recover some more, and begin preparing for chemotherapy and then radiation.
I am still stunned. My favorite band Atmosphere has a line in their song ‘That Night’ that goes ‘This sort of real doesn’t happen to you, right?’ and that may best describe my feelings.
It has been a long and crazily distorted time, as I have waited for the conclusive information to arrive. I’ve already seen an array of specialists and undergone a series of pokes and prods. Basically, I have now used up my share of the health care budget for the rest of my life…and about half of yours, as well.
Once again, the good news-bad news scenario. This will not kill me. (That’s the good news.) The bad news is the fear and misery that will be my companion in the coming months.That I have to say goodbye to my breast and my self-image as a person with an almost super-human immune system. That I am going to have to learn how to be vulnerable and how to ask for help.
All of these challenges frighten me very much. I am being pulled out of my comfort zone and may never be able to return.
I am blessed to have a gutsy and loyal husband, a loving family and dear and devoted friends. I will have to rely on each of you in ways we can’t now imagine.
Please do not call me right now. I need to keep my strength and focus. Please do not send large and extravagent arrangements of flowers to the hospital. They always remind me of funerals and that is the last thing I want to think of. Please pray for me and for my family and please be strong for all of us.
A hard lump of fear is wedged in my middle and nothing can make it dissolve until the surgery is complete. I know many of you feel it with me. Still I am optimistic. I know I have a lot of fight in me and I will give my all to this struggle. Since the diagnosis, I was riding my bike on a beautiful spring day, these words came to me:
“My fear is strong, but my faith is stronger.”
It is. It truly is. And the faith that you have in me is such a big part of that.
I will soon have a website to communicate with all of you and give you updates. In the meantime, a small request: actively think of me every time you cross the river. Don’t forget to admire how that ribbon of water is on a journey. Notice how the ricer shines; think of how the water seeks the sea. Think of how I’m working to heal…and send me your thoughts, prayers and best wishes as you cross between the banks. My body and soul feel somewhere floating in between right now, working hard to rejoin you on the solid ground of the banks. Wave to me. Beckon me back to the land of the fully alive. I’ll be there with you again…soon.
With love,
Kevyn
PS This news is not a secret. Feel free to share this information with anyone who needs it.
My son has helped me set up a blog.
http://kevynbaby.blogspot.com
It will also be available on the fm107 website. This may be the best way to communicate with me for the time being
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