May 2012 Archives

Today is International Museum Day, and it has a special meaning in the Philadephia region, where GSK has a significant presence (we're UK-based, and our US HQ is in North Carolina, but we have offices in Philadelphia--soon moving to the Navy Yard--and its suburbs). Today, the new home of the Barnes Foundation--an astounding collection of art--was officially dedicated. It moved from its original location just outside of Philadelphia, in Merion.

Now, this move came with a lot of controversy, because the will of founder, Dr. Albert C. Barnes, had to be broken to move it. Dr. Barnes, who made his fortune through the development of an antiseptic, was a real maverick who collected many modern works of art before others were interested. And he bought in bulk: 181 Renoirs, 69 Cézannes, 59 Matisses (is that a word?), 46 Picassos, 21 Soutines, 18 Rousseaus, 16 Modiglianis, 6 Seurats--all displayed in conversation with African sculptures, modern sculptures by the likes of Lipchitz, early American furniture, as well as decorative and functional objects.

Barnes was an interesting guy who had a very personal way of appreciating art--and started the Foundation as an educational institution to teach his approach. The educational component of the Foundation is still its primary focus, and better access to the collection is now made available to the public, while the private classes continue to this day.

And that educational focus is why GSK is proud to support the grand opening of the new home of the Barnes Foundation. Art appreciation can take many forms, and is important to society.

Personally, I think the new home is a beautiful gift to the city, the region, and the world. It won't please everyone, but some of the most important things in life--art, ideas, scientific advancement, politics, policies--spur great controversy. And out of those discussions come some of the greatest advances for society.

Let's keep talking.

What would you do if you were diagnosed with an acute illness and needed immediate treatment, but you couldn't afford to fill your prescription? Or you developed a chronic condition for which effective treatment was available, but you couldn't afford to stay on it?

Today there are 44 million people in the US with incomes below the Federal Poverty Level and far more who have trouble paying for healthcare, even if they get help from a government program like Medicare.

Even though we know the importance of taking medicines as they are prescribed, financial hardships and lack of prescription coverage often cause patients to go without their medicines, or to stretch their treatment in ways that could jeopardize their health.

As a member of the GSK Patient Assistance Team, I am proud to help patients receive their medicines. 

GSK has one of the largest patient assistance programs in the industry.  Last year close to half a million patients accessed our medicines, and we fill the equivalent of about 2.7 million 30-day prescription fills provided every year. We offer programs that provide GSK medicines at little or no cost for eligible patients.

Beyond the facts and figures, we know our programs make a real difference by the many thank you cards, letters, and calls we receive on a daily basis. We hear regularly from patient assistance enrollees who submit comments like "Your caring and generosity make life more bearable for people like me with medical problems" and "[I] won't give up the fight [against cancer]. So glad you were there when I needed the help."  

Recently my team received a thank you with a picture of newborn baby enclosed. It was from a grandmother who received help from our patient assistance program for cancer medicines, and she was thrilled to be alive to witness the birth of her granddaughter! I have the best job in the company managing our patient assistance programs and I am so proud to work for a company like GSK that truly puts the patient first and helps them do more, feel better and live longer!

It all started with a little orange pedometer. After several months of taking at least 10,000 steps a day, I decided to "kick it up a notch" and attended a workshop at work that, as cliché as it sounds, changed my life.

The class was Energy for Performance, or 'E4P' as the cool kids call it. It focused on three key areas: nutrition, exercise, and mental approach. But at 54, I really didn't think significant change was in my immediate future.

Oh sure, I used to be in decent shape--I even ran the Philly Marathon in 1987. But that was a few lifetimes ago. A quarter century ago. And many, many cheesesteaks ago. During the E4P class, I got a serious wake-up call in the form of a small printout. Just a piece of paper, with several important numbers--my weight was 193 and my BMI (Body Mass Index) was 32. But it was the word in all caps that really jolted me: OBESE. That was it. Ring! Ring! I made the decision to lose weight, get back into shape, and get healthy.

I started running and joined the fitness center at work (thank you, GSK!). My first day, I laced up my new Asics, strapped on the heart monitor that I received in the E4P class and bolted out the door. It would be my longest run that week--a total of three minutes. That's three minutes straight, without stopping. I kid you not. The next week, I increased my time to four minutes, and each week I increased it by one minute. After five months, I was up to running 60 minutes. It was time. I needed a goal. I had to enter a race.

In my younger days, I loved the Broad Street Run. The 10-miler was a Philly tradition, and the course is flat, and almost downhill. The last time I did the run, the finish line was in JFK Stadium. History note--the stadium, famous for the Live Aid concert, was demolished in 1992. I told you it's been a while. But, in my new-found enthusiasm, I decided to do it again, this past Sunday.

The weather was perfect. The atmosphere was amazing, with strangers, children, Temple University cheerleaders, bands playing music, and hundreds of volunteers passing out Gatorade and water. I even got to high-five ex-Governor and Philly celebrity Ed Rendell. They lined the street with cheering, homemade signs, support, and words of encouragement.

It was that enthusiasm that allowed me to finish in a respectable 90 minutes, crossing the finish line not far from our new building at the Navy Yard that will be completed by the end of the year.

But I was only one of 38,000 stories among the 76,000 shoes beating the asphalt on Sunday morning. There was a much greater cause. Stop diseases. Many were running in memory of loved ones who had died from a multitude of diseases, including cancer, muscle diseases, Alzheimer's, and heart disease.

Some were running in support of loved ones who are suffering now, and many others were running to keep themselves healthy in the hope they never have to suffer. At mile marker number eight, I passed Methodist Hospital, where I was born. I thought of my mom, who passed away six years ago from a truly devastating disease, tuberculosis. It made me proud to work for a company that is trying to eliminate diseases.

With the Navy Yard in sight, I saw a small boy hold up a sign that read, "Worst parade ever." Sorry, but I disagree.