Sara Beck
I have known so many courageous women who struggled with breast cancer. On many occasions my friends and I had discussed the frightening prevalence of this disease. In the summer of 2003 as we were mourning the diagnosis given to yet another friend, I recall thinking, “My God, who’s next?” Three months later, I would find a lump in my right breast. Even as I went in for the emergency biopsy, I did not believe I was the one-the one who would be next. When the diagnosis came, all I could think about was how my sons needed their mom. It just couldn’t be my “turn.” It was, though, and we fought the battle with all we had. It’s been 17 months since my diagnosis. My boys have their mom. My husband has his wife. My parents have their daughter and I have my life.
My dream is that there will be only survivors like me when breast cancer strikes and that, eventually, there will be no more cancer. Organizations like the WBCC and events like the Rare Chair Affair are helping to make this a reality.
I am so honored to be part of the Rare Chair Affair this year. I am not an artist. I am a survivor, though, and the gift of survivorship was the inspiration for my chair. I asked my husband, Scott, to help me create the chair because, in a sense, we are both survivors. We made the journey together. I also had input on the chair’s creation from family members and friends-those same people who gave their hearts and souls to my family and me during our fight against breast cancer. This chair is really a tribute to all of them. It’s a tribute to life. Every day I try to remember to live well, laugh often and love much. Those are words to live by.
Ina Kasper
Even before the chemo started that ultimately led to my surgery on December 23, 2004, I wondered . . .
Why can’t they just knock me out until it’s all over? If they would just freeze me, put me in storage at the hospital, then whenever they wanted to poke me or test me for something else, I’d be right there. Wouldn’t that be easier? Besides, I’d feel no pain. None of any kind.
I have never done any actual mountain climbing in my 48 years and now this life changing experience has taught me what it takes to climb a mountain and to survive. I still believe that everything happens for a reason, just as I did mountains ago.
Linda Kennell
My mother had breast cancer when I was 10. Twenty years later, it showed up in her bladder and colon. I watched her struggle with treatments and pain. She died in 1996. So, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was terrified! I was sure God had abandoned me.
I had a lumpectomy followed by 6 1/2 weeks of radiation. During that 3 month period, I was reminded every day of God’s great love for my by my students and their families (I teach Kindergarten), by members of my church, and by my family, especially our children, Andrew and Rachel, and my dear husband, Chuck.
Now, 2 1/2 years later, I’m healthy and ready to encourage and help others as they struggle with the challenges in their lives.
Tricia Price
Being told you have breast cancer is one of the worst things anyone will ever hear. I’m glad to be a part of an organization or process that works to eliminate the number of individuals that hear the devastating words “you have cancer”. I’ve learned many things within the last 8 months since I was diagnosed. I’m grateful for every day and I appreciate the many blessings and wonderful angels in my life.
I chose to use butterflies to represent the transformation one goes through when dealing with this illness. As a caterpillar becomes a butterfly…I too have had to look inside to find my inner strength, make a transformation, earn my wings and fly. I have been inspired by many women who have gone through this traumatic experience with just as much grace and beauty as a butterfly. I’m very grateful to my husband, my family and friends, and for their words of encouragement and comfort that helped me make it through my journey.
Ruth Seider (Art Therapist)
My journey as an artist and art therapist has led me to explore the sacred path we each follow through life. I am a fiber artist whose work has been based on religious garments. Using these articles of clothing, I have explored the sacredness of each person and their journey through life. The sacredness of each person is manifested in my work with cancer patients and their families as an art therapist at The Cancer Counseling Center located at St. Luke’s Medical Center. I am thrilled to have had the opportunity to work with several of the artist survivors of the Rare Chair Affair 2005! Each of these women has shared their story through the creation of a unique piece of art that is an expression of their own sacred journey through life. It has been a privilege to share part of that journey with each of them.
Galina Tash
November 1999. I had my yearly mammogram and it came back negative.
February 2000. It was Saturday morning and my sister called to tell me she was diagnosed with breast cancer and needed to have surgery. All night I spent crying, praying, and examining every inch of my breast. “Eureka,” I found something. Was this a lump? I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. We never had a history of cancer in our family.
Monday I went to have a mammogram and ultrasound. I was surprised. The radiologist told me that my mammogram was normal, exactly the same as it was in November. Lucky me: they missed my tumor in November and they missed my tumor today. I said, “I have a lump. Does this mean that I had a lump in November and you didn’t tell me?” I asked. I was told that doctors are human and they make mistakes too.
I had a full biopsy/lumpectomy. I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma Grade I/III. I needed to have another surgery because the margins were not clear. I had a lumpectomy with removal of 14 auxiliary lymph nodes. After surgery, I developed Lymphedema in my left arm and hand. A short time later, I acquired RSDS (Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy Syndrome).
Before cancer I was very naïve. I was a back-seat driver when it came to my medical and/or cancer treatment. I trusted everything the doctors told me and never questioned their diagnosis or treatment. Thanks to my involvement with the Wisconsin Breast Cancer Coalition (WBCC), the National Breast Cancer Coalition (NBCC) and attending Project Lead® classes and workshops, I became knowledgeable about medicine and the fight against breast cancer. Now I’m in control of my treatment and my body. The doctors and I are partners and that is the most empowering feeling of all.
Currently, I am an advocate in the fight against Breast Cancer. I am a member of WBCC, NBCC, After Breast Cancer Diagnosis (ABCD), and also attend the United States Department of Defense (DoD) peer review panel and ERA of HOPE Conferences.
This May I celebrated five years as survivor.
Merry Thiele
I found the lump by accident, if there is such a thing. On November 7, 2002, I was in the shower shaving under my right arm when my left thumb felt something weird. Had I really felt something? It’s probably nothing. But I found myself feeling the “small round pea” several more times just to make sure. Should I wait to see if it goes away or call the doctor? I didn’t want to embarrass myself by making a big deal out of the weird thing I felt. I called my doctor and after several tests it was confirmed that I had breast cancer. I had a lumpectomy, followed by chemo and radiation treatments. My faith, family and friends gave me the support I needed to enable me to share my survivor story with you today.
Sophia Waite
I am a two time cancer survivor (once in each breast, 1995 and 2000). These were two different kinds of cancer and not a recurrence. Treatment was undertaken at Froedert with Drs. Walker, White, and Hosenpad. During the second occurrence a friend accompanied me to chemo treatments, when possible. This was greatly supportive for that particular long haul!
Although I was born in Milwaukee, attended Messmer High School, Mount Mary College, and graduated from UWM, in 1962 I decided to drive to California in my 1957 (round backed) Volvo. I lived in the Palo Alto – Stanford area for 28 years. When the Institute of Transpersonal Psychology opened I felt called to complete this PhD program. This was a fabulously awesome experience for me.
I eventually returned to Milwaukee in 1990 after suffering the effects of a “slip and fall” accident. Recovery from this accident occurred slowly over four years.
After this long journey I am extremely happy to be re-visiting my relationship with “art”.
Linda Weide
I’m a veteran breast cancer survivor, battling this beast since 1993. During that time I’ve experienced the gamut of treatments–several times. The war with this disease not only takes its toll physically but also psychologically. So the one way I have found to fight back at it is to aid in the quest to raise funds for the alleviation of it. My participation with the Rare Chair Affair has afforded me an opportunity to do just that the last 6 years.