Jaime Chismar Seebacher is fundraising
Support your local superhero
Hi, I'm Jaime Chismar Seebacher.
Mother, daughter, wife, friend, designer -- I'm many different things to many different people. I'm also a breast cancer survivor. (That's me in the video.)
You may think pink ribbons are pretty, but truth be told, breast cancer is an ugly, ugly disease.
When you’re diagnosed with cancer, you have to fight against your own body to save your life. You fight to keep the things you already have -- by making terrible, unthinkable sacrifices of the things you once took for granted.
Breast cancer can take away everything that makes up your identity as a woman. It's more than losing your hair and your eyebrows, your breasts and your nipples. You can lose your fertility, your sexuality, your self-esteem, and, on really bad days, your sanity. Everything about you is ripped apart and reassembled in unrecognizable and unforgivable ways.
After six surgeries, six weeks of radiation, and two and a half years of chemotherapy, I am relieved to finally be cancer-free -- and excited to celebrate my 40th birthday. (Seriously, my thirties tried to kill me, who wouldn't be thrilled to start a new decade?)
It’s not just the physical and emotional cost that makes breast cancer so ugly. The financial cost of treating breast cancer can easily bankrupt women and their families. The estimated cost of all my medical treatment? $1.5 million and counting.
I'm lucky. I had access to some of the best health care in the country and some amazing medical insurance. But, this is the exception to the rule. No one should ever have to choose between buying groceries or buying medicine. But it happens. Every single day.
Some people say that I'm their hero. I don't know if I'm more heroic than the next cancer survivor. But, I do know that being a hero comes with great responsibility –- and I’ve taken this responsibility to heart. Every cancer patient is somebody's super hero, and in times of crisis, even super heroes need a helping hand -- lots of them, actually.
That's where you come in.
The Hope Chest for Breast Cancer helps women and their families right here in this community. It provides non-medical financial assistance to help breast cancer patients in the Twin Cities pay their mortgage, afford transportation to their appointments, and keep food in their fridge.
I’m not a research scientist (I wish I was). I won’t be the one who finds a cure for breast cancer.
I’m not a politician (I'm glad I'm not). I can’t write laws to make healthcare affordable for everyone.
But, I am a creative problem solver who's unafraid to put on a pair of sequin hot pants for a good laugh and a good cause.
My goal? To raise $4000 (in honor of my 40th) in time for National Cancer Survivors Day, June 5, 2016. The more you donate, the more motivated I'll be to finish my video.
Please support your local super hero and donate today.
With much love and gratitude,
Jaime, Brian and Evelyn
Mother, daughter, wife, friend, designer -- I'm many different things to many different people. I'm also a breast cancer survivor. (That's me in the video.)
You may think pink ribbons are pretty, but truth be told, breast cancer is an ugly, ugly disease.
When you’re diagnosed with cancer, you have to fight against your own body to save your life. You fight to keep the things you already have -- by making terrible, unthinkable sacrifices of the things you once took for granted.
Breast cancer can take away everything that makes up your identity as a woman. It's more than losing your hair and your eyebrows, your breasts and your nipples. You can lose your fertility, your sexuality, your self-esteem, and, on really bad days, your sanity. Everything about you is ripped apart and reassembled in unrecognizable and unforgivable ways.
After six surgeries, six weeks of radiation, and two and a half years of chemotherapy, I am relieved to finally be cancer-free -- and excited to celebrate my 40th birthday. (Seriously, my thirties tried to kill me, who wouldn't be thrilled to start a new decade?)
It’s not just the physical and emotional cost that makes breast cancer so ugly. The financial cost of treating breast cancer can easily bankrupt women and their families. The estimated cost of all my medical treatment? $1.5 million and counting.
I'm lucky. I had access to some of the best health care in the country and some amazing medical insurance. But, this is the exception to the rule. No one should ever have to choose between buying groceries or buying medicine. But it happens. Every single day.
Some people say that I'm their hero. I don't know if I'm more heroic than the next cancer survivor. But, I do know that being a hero comes with great responsibility –- and I’ve taken this responsibility to heart. Every cancer patient is somebody's super hero, and in times of crisis, even super heroes need a helping hand -- lots of them, actually.
That's where you come in.
The Hope Chest for Breast Cancer helps women and their families right here in this community. It provides non-medical financial assistance to help breast cancer patients in the Twin Cities pay their mortgage, afford transportation to their appointments, and keep food in their fridge.
I’m not a research scientist (I wish I was). I won’t be the one who finds a cure for breast cancer.
I’m not a politician (I'm glad I'm not). I can’t write laws to make healthcare affordable for everyone.
But, I am a creative problem solver who's unafraid to put on a pair of sequin hot pants for a good laugh and a good cause.
My goal? To raise $4000 (in honor of my 40th) in time for National Cancer Survivors Day, June 5, 2016. The more you donate, the more motivated I'll be to finish my video.
Please support your local super hero and donate today.
With much love and gratitude,
Jaime, Brian and Evelyn
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49 supporters
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