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The (pink) tie that binds | |
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by Meg Underwood Brugeman If politics makes strange bedfellows, political advocacy makes unlikely friendships. Stephanie Beck, whose great grandfather was a Rabbi, practices the Jewish faith; Vicky Gray is a devout Catholic - one of her brothers is a priest. Beck is a transplant from Brooklyn, Vicky is Rhode Island born and bred. Beck is married with children and grandchildren; Gray has chosen to remain single. Beck is outgoing and fun-loving, Gray is a bit shy and reserved. Beck combs her close-cropped salt and pepper coif to Doug-White-not-a-hair-out-of-place perfection; Gray's face is framed in soft, carefree curls. Beck jumps in with both feet; Gray cautiously tests the waters. Beck is comfortable in the limelight; Gray hides from it. Beck has taken her fight against breast cancer public. She has chaired fund-raisers, been appointed to state commissions, and volunteered wherever and whenever she saw the need. Vicky Gray dealt with her diagnosis quietly and alone. Until she met Stephanie Beck. In September of 1997, Beck received a phone call in her East Greenwich home to contact a woman in Warwick. A volunteer for the American Cancer Society's Reach to Recovery program and a breast cancer survivor, she was trained to respond to the myriad of concerns facing women newly diagnosed with the disease, and those of their families. Two phone messages to Victoria Gray, scheduled to undergo a lumpectomy within the week, went unreturned. As was her upbringing and predilection, Gray had decided to go it alone. The ball was in Gray's court, and Beck knew it had to stay there. "It was up to her whether she wanted to be contacted," she said. Typically stalwart, Gray had not shared her diagnosis with even her closest family members. Her brothers fiftieth birthday was just around the corner, after all, and it was unthinkable that she release a cloud over the celebration by announcing she had breast cancer. She could and would handle this without causing unnecessary alarm. Three days after her surgery, Gray had a change of heart. Unable to curb her endless flow of tears or to make sense of her emotional response, she called the woman whose voice was still captured on the tape of her answering machine. Beck immediately reassured Gray; her reaction was normal and to be expected. It's okay to cry, Beck told her. The next day, the two met. Beck clearly remembers the country music playing on Gray's radio, a form of music she distinctly dislikes. Although she offered to change the station, Beck politely declined. "Now that we know each other so well," said Beck, "she'll play it just to be cute." From that time on, they were inseparable, sharing their histories, their fears, their hopes. When the pathology results brought devastating news, Beck was there to cushion Gray's fall. The cancer removed from Gray's breast was determined to be stage three, estrogen receptor positive. All twelve of the lymph nodes removed showed evidence of the disease; it had become invasive. The diagnosis only brought the two closer together. Now aware of the secret that might have burdened him, Gray's brother became a willing and vital member of her support team, and traveled with them to cancer centers in Rhode Island and Massachusetts in search of hope and direction for Gray. Although Reach for Recovery volunteers are charged with giving information and never advice, Beck admits that was becoming increasingly difficult. Still, she resisted the temptation to intervene, and simply supported the decisions Gray made along the way and helped gather information. At the Dana Farber Cancer Institute, said Beck, medical protocol in Gray's case called for a bone marrow transplant and high dose chemotherapy. " Very risky business," said Beck. The risk was too great for Gray, who opted for a course of chemotherapy. Before beginning the treatment, Beck helped her shop for a wig, and during treatment was right by her side every step of the way. "I sat beside her as the drugs were put into her arm," said Beck. She remained in the chair for several hours. "I propped her pillow, I held her hand. I called the nurse if something didn't seem right. I couldn't leave her side." "We got closer and closer. I began to know her family and friends, and she got to know mine. We became family." Gray's road to recovery did not offer a quick or easy route. Recurrences led to bilateral mastectomies and several courses of chemotherapy. When Christmas came, the prospect of putting up a Christmas tree seemed too much. "It was just me, anyway," she explained. Beck thought otherwise. "She needed that tree and those decorations - her mother's decorations," said Beck, who added Gray's mother had lost her battle with breast cancer. After placing a call to Gray's brother, who resurrected the various Christmas lights and ornaments from "down cellar" teases Beck, chuckling at the Rhode Island expression, she was almost ready. Before arriving at her friend's, Beck bought two Santa hats, and carefully tucked her hair beneath the red and white fur to more closely resemble Gray, who had lost her hair to chemotherapy. Erecting and decorating a Christmas tree was new territory for the Jewish woman from Brooklyn, but she was convinced it would buoy Gray's spirits and prove to be exactly what the doctor ordered. "I walked in, and there she was, tangled up in a string of lights," said Gray, unable to contain her laughter. Beck shrugs and smiles in response. Among the organizations Beck had become involved with after her bout with breast cancer was the Rhode Island Breast Cancer Coalition. "It was tremendously helpful to know that I was not alone. My thoughts and feelings about breast cancer were shared by so many other women - the fear and anxiety. We gave each other the support that we couldn't receive anywhere else. We learned to cope," she said. In addition to the element of support, the advocacy component of the coalition gives its members strength, said Beck. "The RIBCC raises awareness through education and, along with the National Breast Cancer Coalition, fights for breast cancer research and the rights of the uninsured and underinsured. It became more and more important for me to do what I could to help other women faced with this horrendous disease. By doing so, I am helping myself and Vicky." Her advocacy became another aspect of Beck's life she wished to share with her best friend. "My passion to be an advocate, I guess, became contagious," she said, "because I was able to get Vicky involved as well. She wanted to do whatever she could, too." Together they have traveled to Washington, DC, with other members of the coalition to hear the latest research findings on breast cancer, to find strength through other advocates, and to lobby Congress to support various bills deemed as priorities by the NBCC as crucial to women's health and the fight to eradicate breast cancer. The trips, they said, were both empowering and exhausting. Meeting hundreds of other women from around the world engaged in the fight, and seeing the most recent devastation of the disease, is yet more incentive to become politically involved, according to Gray. It is particularly difficult, the two women said, when friends they have met at previous conferences are conspicuously absent. Often it is because they have finally succumbed to breast cancer. "Enough is enough," said Beck. "I've known too many women who have died because of this disease." Their shared advocacy has only strengthened their bond. Gray, who would likely never have become involved in political activism had she not met Beck, now boldly approaches members of Congress to ask their support for specific legislative initiatives. The two celebrate holidays together - Jewish and Christian. Family gatherings presume Gray and Beck will both attend, and when Beck's daughter celebrated the birth of her son, so did his three grandmothers. The child knows Gray, the single woman who never had a family of her own, as "Nana." The best friends do not let their differences get in their way, they relish them. To Beck, shopping constitutes picking up a catalogue. Gray loves yard sales, the mall, and outlet shopping centers. "She loves gardening," said Beck, "She just loves digging in the dirt. I'd rather have a manicure. I love to read and write - she doesn't. I buy it, she makes it." And still, they are Yin to one another's Yang. Beck is Felix to Gray's Oscar. Gray is Ethel to Beck's Lucy. Out of the pain and fear of a disease for which there is no cure, came family. The Book of Sirach in the Old Testament offers the notion that, "A faithful friend is a life-saving remedy." Stephanie Beck and Vicky Gray could not agree more.
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