This photo was taken a year ago today. August 12, 2010. My cousin Suzanne and I had just spent the morning getting primped and prepped by for an Estee Lauder photo shoot - topless. It was for the Estee Lauder Breast Cancer Awareness campaign, which featured a slate of online writers and personalities (also topless). Suz was a two-time breast cancer survivor, and when I was invited to participate, I proposed her as an essential part of the deal. We had not seen each other in ages - she grew up in Detroit, I in Toronto, and despite being the same age, both lawyers to boot, our lives didn’t crisscross all that much. To suddenly be posing topless - with fab-o hair and makeup, for a world-class photog, but still, topless - was certainly a bonding experience. I had fun making her laugh by brandishing my boobs obnoxiously when backs were turned.
The difference between us was pretty…marked. Suz had been through chemo already a few times, was going through it then - indeed had jumped on the plane after a chemo sesh Weds, the shoot was Thurs, and she and her friend Stacey (above, with Katie Rosman - all Detroit girls, grew up together) then hopped on a plane Thursday night to wake up Friday at the crack of dawn to walk the Susan G. Komen 3-Day 60 mile breast cancer walk. I didn’t know much about chemo but I learned that it’s administered through a “port” - for Suz it was above her breast. And needles went in and out of there regularly. We were artful in the positioning of hands and arms and shoulders to cover stray nipples, but also her port. Also, my breasts were real. Hers were reconstructed. She had the BRAC-2 gene, which meant massively heightened cancer risk, which meant double mastectomy and hysterectomy. It runs in families, and runs in ours. When she discovered she had it I took the test. I could have just as easily had it. I didn’t. She did.
She was also going through early menopause - another byproduct of the heavy chemical cocktail running through her veins. She used to be a workout freak, super into yoga, killer bod, but that changes a bit with menopause, and she was self-conscious of it. Meanwhile I could not imagine anything more moving or incredible or, frankly, fucking gorgeous than seeing her drop that robe and step forward under the lights, a proud and strong survivor.
It’s funny, when the pictures came back we both attacked them looking for flaws, but looking at them now - they’re incredible. I am so lucky to have them. (Even if the photog was maybe a little freewheeling with his definition of “No, I totally can’t see your nipple.” When I need to raise money, they’re there.) It was a wonderful day and to have that photographic record of what we did together was and is something else. The launch was late September in Bloomingdale’s with Evelyn Lauder and Elizabeth Hurley. They flew Suzanne back in, with her mom, Alice, and they were all dressed up and looked amazing. I was really proud. I still am.
Less than two weeks later Suz fell down. She went to the doctor. They found a tumor in her back. Her cancer was back. She deteriorated rapidly, and died January 26, 2011.
I think about her every day. I wish I had known her more, had done more. But that was an amazing day, and I get to know that before she died, she got to have that amazing experience. We really did have such a great time, and she felt very strongly that it was important that she speak up loudly about supporting breast cancer research.
Her friend, Stacey, and all her family and friends are walking this weekend again, this time in her memory. I know you don’t know them, but you know people like them, and like Suz. If you want to donate to their cause, go here.
My post from last August is below.
A week or so ago I had a fairly amazing visit with my cousin, Suzanne, a two-time breast cancer survivor, and her BFF Stacey, who accompanied Suzanne to NYC for a pretty cool breast-cancer awareness project we contributed to, for Estee Lauder. We should all be so lucky to have such friends - I was seriously blown away by the measure of her devotion. It was quick - they arrived Wednesday and flew back to Detroit Thursday night to do the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Breast Cancer Walk that weekend - starting 5 a.m. the next day.
Suzanne was the #1 fundraiser in all of Michigan ($19,792 - holla!) so I donated to Stacey, who raised a not-too-shabby $3,000. The unexpectedly great bonus for me, though, as an Internet nerd, was seeing how impressive (and smart) the Susan G. Komen site is - each member of each team has a donation page, with a statement about why they’re walking. So I was not only able to support any member of Suzanne’s team (“Suz Cruise”), but see how each person was connected to my cousin and why they had chosen to undertake this huge challenge (3 days x 20 miles per day = 60 miles = blisters). This is from Stacey’s page:
As many of you know, my best friend Suzanne Bartholomew was diagnosed with breast cancer in November 2006. After a double mastectomy, hysterectomy, and months of chemotherapy we thought that the cancer was gone forever. This was not the case. In August 2009, Suzanne’s cancer was back. And the news was devastating and terrifying. Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer. My world literally seemed to stop at the thought of losing my cherished friend. But then we found bs-201, also known as Parp, an investigative drug for people with tumors just like Suz has. And after 6 months I am thrilled and amazed to report that Suzanne’s body is virtually cancer free!! A true miracle!!! I am humbled and amazed at the power of this experimental drug. And I am committed to raising money for breast cancer research to find and develop more of these wonder drugs! So that our mothers, sisters, friends, wives, and daughters do not have to ever be diagnosed with this awful disease. But if they are, that they have hope, and promising treatment options.
This is from her husband Freddy:
I want this disease gone. As a husband, son, father of 4 daughters, and woman’s physician, I am growing weary of this predator…please encourage all the women you know to have their recommended screening. Thank you.
Suzanne and I are related through my dad and her mom, who are first cousins. Their parents - my grandmother, her grandfather - were twins. Down the genetic pipeline, she got the BRCA 1 breast cancer gene and I didn’t. That’ll motivate a girl to donate. At least.
That’s me, Suz (with the short hair, courtesy of Salon Chemo), Stacey above and Katie Rosman on the left, who knows Suz and Stacey from Detroit and came to meet us for lunch. If you know Katie, you’ll know about her other Suzy - her mom and the subject of her book, If You Knew Suzy, whom she lost to lung cancer. Cancer isn’t picky. Consider a donation today.
8 notes /
