Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Turkey Day!

The Art of Making a Difference

I'll be participating in this year's Members Open at the Society of Illustrators. Proceeds from the sale of art in the show will benefit the Family Center Art Therapy Family Support Program.

The Family Center works to create a more secure present and future for children whose parents have a life-threatening illness by providing comprehensive legal and social services, education and research. They will be launching the Art Therapy Family Support program this fall. Children and families will be able to utilize this wonderful expressive art form as a catalyst for healing and self-discovery.

The show opens Dec. 1, but some of the included work can be previewed here.

Here's my entry.

Thank you

Thank you:

John and Patricia Tomac, Heidi Spalholz, Elena Rossi, Chris Lanza, Kevin Koch, Alice and Bob Negron, James Toulouse, Mary Fezza, Ben Miller, Blaine and Erin Moore, Theispot.com Team, Andrew Hartman, Curtis Howard, Chad and Trisha Byler, Martha Murray, Matt Nettleton, Daniel Sciannameo, Joanna Siu, Jeff Abbott, Kathleen Anderson, Gregory Trupp, David and Grace Cicero, Rosemary & Catty McDermott, David Carleton, Chris Tomac, Moira Murray, Meghan Sperrazza, Kathy and Richard Pancoast, Angela Pensiero, Patt Early, Kathie Williams, Patricia Nichols, Alex Fine, Mario Colasuonno, Nils Anderson, Colleen Anderson, Al Passarella, Christopher Kudla, Anne Ju, Matthew Hartman, Laura Costello, Randa Jabbour, Jessica Vastola, Colin Grover, Kevin Turko, Dana Sanetti, Ryan Pancoast, Declan, Dermot, Kate, Rob and Anne Marie Connolly and Helene Conway

You helped raise over $3,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

The link in the upper right corner of this page will remain because you can continue to donate until Dec. 31. All contributions are tax deductible.

Illustration Friday: Fast

The fastest way to The 1964 World's Fair is on the 7 train. Of course, This is from my own imagination, Robert Moses would have preferred you drive.

The 7 train is still one of the fastest way to reach Flushing Meadows Park assuming you catch an express train.

This poster is for sale here

Dude, Where's My Flying Car?

Here's one for this week's Illustration Friday theme — flying.

It's almost 2010. We should have flying cars now. Instead, we're still driving around on the ground like a bunch of animals. We are not living in the future promised to us by Popular Mechanics or Back to the Future, Part II. Given the current state of the auto industry, we probably aren't going to get them anytime soon.

Another thing we should have now is a cure for cancer. Help me raise money to find one. I'll be participating in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Light the Night Walk fund raiser later this week. if you'd like to make a donation click here.

The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society funds lifesaving research that has contributed to major advances in the treatment of blood cancers and treatments for other types of cancer, such as chemotherapy and stem cell transplants. These treatments have helped patients, like me, live better, longer lives. New targeted therapies that kill cancer cells without harming normal tissue are providing drugs and procedures that are improving quality of life.

On October 15 I will be participating in the Light the Night Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge with the Society of Illustrators team to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. If you would like to make a donation please click here.

Lucky Me

I have Leukemia.

I am extremely lucky.

I have a tremendous group of family and friends who have done everything imaginable to help me since I was hospitalized a few weeks ago and who continue to do so now that I'm at home recuperating.

I have a great team of doctors at New York Presbyterian Hospital and Weill Cornell Medical College who caught this thing in the early, chronic phase.

I'm fortunate to have fantastic health insurance, thanks to my job working as a graphic designer for Dow Jones & Co. Hopefully, Congress will do something soon so that this won't constitute luck.

I'm also sure that this is nothing more than a bump in the road, thanks to a wonderful drug called Imatinib, but better known as Gleevec thanks to the good people at Novartis.

Gleevec is not the traditional cancer treatment. Instead of bombarding the body with radiation or chemicals, this drug is a targeted therapy. Gleevec works on the cellular level to stop the abnormal build-up of white blood cells. Left untreated this condition causes white blood cells to crowd out others in the blood causing all sorts of problems. Because it just targets the overproduction of white blood cells I don't have to worry about too many of the traditional cancer treatment side effects like nausea, fatigue or hair loss. That means I'll look like my normal self in June when I get married.

So far, the treatment seems to be working. When I was hospitalized on September 22 my white blood cell count was 390,000. As of yesterday, it was down to 24,000. Normal is between 3,000 and 10,000. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting close. When my white blood cell counts normalize I'll be a third of the way to remission.

In May, 2001 it took the FDA just two-and-a-half weeks to approve its use. In the same month Time Magazine hailed it as a "magic bullet" in the war on cancer. What would have been a death sentence 20 years ago is now a manageable condition, akin to high blood pressure or high cholesterol. If you'd like to help fund research for other, future leukemia treatments click here.

The image above was produced during the Great Depression as part of the WPA's Federal Art Project. I'm not planning on slowing down anytime soon. Hopefully I'll be cranking out images for years to come. I'm not even 30 yet. I figure I have a good 50 years to keep on drawing. If I'm lucky my work will be providing inspiration to another generation of artists, like the one above.

On October 15 I will be participating in the Light the Night Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge with the Society of Illustrators team to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. If you would like to make a donation please click here.

Three Straight Septembers Ruined by Philadelphia

A cellular mutation named for the city of brotherly love

I'm a huge New York Mets fan. Since 2006, I've been a Sunday ticket plan holder. In my opinion there are few better ways than to spend a summer afternoon than in the upper deck of Shea Stadium, sitting in the sun, cold beer in hand, watching baseball.

In 2007, the Mets were coasting along, never really playing great, but eventually taking a seven game lead over the Phillies with 17 to play. Over the next 2 weeks that lead would evaporate. It culminated on a Sunday afternoon. Before I reached my seat Tom Glavine had surrendered 4 runs. He'd give up a few more before being pulled with 2 outs in the first inning. The Mets lost that game and were overtaken in the standings by the Phillies on the final day of the season.

In 2008, the Mets started off the season playing some lackluster baseball. A mid season managerial change seemed to light a fire and for a while they looked like one of the best teams in the league. Then in August Billy Wagner blew out his elbow and threw the bullpen into disarray. Going into the final weeks of the season with a 3.5 game lead seemed anything but safe. Turns out it was not. Again, the Phillies overtook the Mets and on the final day of the season the Mets again playing for their postseason lives came up short. The Phillies went on to win the World Series that fall. That was hard to watch. The Mets had taken the regular season series between the two teams and had Wagner not got hurt probably wouldn't have caught them again. Adding insult to injury Shane Victorino and Co. seemed to take every opportunity they had to mock the Mets on their way to a championship.

This year, the Mets suffered a bizarre rash of injuries and were really out of contention by mid-July. I thought to myself at least Philadelphia won't be ruining my September this year. I was wrong.

In mid-September I started seeing spots in my right eye. At first I didn't think anything of it, but after being annoyed by the condition for a few days I called up my eye doctor and described my symptoms. Immediately, he referred me to a retinal specialist, fearing that I might have a detached retina. A detached retina is a pretty serious condition, especially to someone who makes their living in the visual arts. Needless to say I was a bit concerned.

The retinal specialist ran a battery of tests and determined that my retinas were fine. That was a relief. However, it was just the beginning of this ordeal. The doctor discovered bleeding in both of my eyes. In the right eye, it was pooling in my field of vision, causing the spots. As for what was causing the bleeding, he wasn't sure and recommended that I go see an internist.

After leaving the retinal specialist, I spent the weekend celebrating my future brother in-laws wedding. Luckily, among the wedding guests, including the bride, were several nurses all of them were happy to refer me to a great doctor practicing internal medicine.

I made it to the doctor a few days later hoping to figure out what exactly was going on with my eyes. After a physical and and a series of blood draws, I left with an appointment for a week when all of the blood test would be back. I wouldn't make it back for that appointment.

The evening of the doctors appointment, my fiance, Mary and I had Mets tickets. Her alma mater's choir was singing the national anthem, so a group of us had standing plans to attend the game. I felt okay despite spending the majority of my day at the doctors office and was actually looking forward to going. In the fourth inning Mary's phone started ringing off the hook, all private numbers. Finally, she picked up the phone. On the other end was my doctor's office.

"Are you with John Tomac?" the voice on the other end asked.

She said yes and handed the phone over to me. On the other end was a doctor from my doctor's office. "We have your blood tests and their are some irregularities. You need to get to the emergency room right away. I don't want to alarm you, but we think you might have leukemia."

Mary and I left the game, hopped in a cab and headed to New York Presbyterian Weill Cornell Medical Center, where a team of doctors was waiting. The first doctor I saw was an oncologist who explained they were going to draw blood to make sure they hadn't mixed up the samples. I was pretty sure this was going to be the case, but soon learned there was no mistake.

The next two doctors that I saw were from the ICU. They were a bit surprised to see me in such good spirits and not feeling ill. Apparently, my white blood cell levels were 40-times higher than normal. I should have felt awful and been at risk for sorts of infection. Luckily, I felt fine and hadn't gotten sick. I spent a few more hours in the ER under observation before finally being admitted to a room on the Leukemia floor.

The next morning, I was visited by a team of oncologist who explained that they believed that I had Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia. They ran a battery of tests including a bone marrow biopsy which confirmed their suspicions. The doctors went on to explain that my case of CML, like most, was caused by a mutation where a pair of chromosomes switch places. This condition is called the Philadelphia Chromosome.

A third straight September ruined by Philadelphia.

On October 15 I will be participating in the Light the Night Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge with the Society of Illustrators team to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. If you would like to make a donation please click here.