Words for women to fight cancer by

On a recent afternoon, nine women gathered in a family room in Devon - reminiscing, reflecting, occasionally giggling.

It resembled a celebration for a milestone birthday, perhaps even a reunion of old friends. But this was a gathering of a very different sort.

These are breast-cancer survivors - members of two small groups ranging in age from fortysomething to sixtysomething - who have met for the last five years for therapy of the writing kind.

Their leader, Howard Rice, may be the lone male in their midst, but he knows firsthand about the disease (his first bout of skin cancer came as a teenager growing up in the Miami sun) and the vulnerability that comes with it. One participant, Jane Edwards, calls the 72-year-old "an archaeologist of the soul."

Edwards, 66, of Kennett Square, has shared her fears, her joys, and her perilous times with women who once were strangers - and with the man she claims has given her the tools to examine parts of her life that might have remained buried.

"I learned to do that in my journaling group," Edwards said. "These were the people I needed to be with. Howard changed my life."

The monthly meetings take place sometimes in conference rooms at Lankenau and Paoli Hospitals, which have helped to organize the groups, and often at Rice's Chester County home. Because the personal bonds among the women have become so strong, the meetings - now considered sacred - are not open to new participants. Women won't miss a meeting unless the circumstances are dire. And while cancer is their common denominator, it is by no means the only subject that is dealt with through talking and writing.

"We're all over the place, and that's what makes this wonderful," says Edwards, who has had two bouts with breast cancer, one in 2003 and one in 2006.

Throughout Rice's career in advertising/copywriting as a partner and creative director at Kalish & Rice, he read voraciously, and also wrote.

Ultimately, he wrote a play loosely based on his own cancer experience. It first was produced in Philadelphia by the now-defunct Play Works Company, and eventually was a winner in a New York short-play competition. Last year, some private high school students in Alabama took the play to a state competition and placed second. It was thrilling for the playwright.

"I've certainly learned about the therapeutic value of writing," said Rice, who has taught writing at Temple University since the 1970s. "Journaling helped my students to clarify issues in their lives. I've really seen how powerful and transformative it can be."

Several years ago, after reading extensively about journaling for people who had suffered trauma or illness, Rice approached some local hospitals and cancer centers about working with survivors. His concept won the attention of Marisa Weiss, a Philadelphia radiation oncologist and founder of Living Beyond Breast Cancer, an organization that helps get women through the next phase of their lives after breast-cancer diagnosis and treatment.

With her support, Rice organized a journaling group first at Lankenau Hospital in 2004, and then at Paoli Hospital in 2005. He since has trained other potential leaders through the Susan B. Komen Foundation, and recently spoke to a conference of young breast-cancer survivors in Dallas, where he also helped train writing coaches.

Retired from advertising but still an industry consultant, Rice, who doesn't get paid to lead his workshops, believes he is now doing the most important work of his life.

Laura Bonstingl of Wayne would agree. The 52-year-old single mother received her breast-cancer diagnosis in 2003. She remembers thinking, "I just don't have time for this. . . . "

Her desire for support led her to Rice's writing group, where she could think through what was happening to her during 10-minute "speed-writing" sessions, the core project of each meeting.

Bonstingl, like her journaling "sisters," loves the topics Rice creates. They range from What I cherish most to What would you say to cancer if it walked into the room? and What do you love most about being alive?

"I'm not a writer - I never was one - but in this group, I've learned to trust myself and to stop being inhibited about sharing my words," said Jane DiRico, an admittedly private person, now completely comfortable in her group.

After a breast-cancer diagnosis in 2004, two surgeries, and chemotherapy, DiRico, of West Chester, found solace in writing, and not just about cancer.

As a result of the group exercises, she realized she was needlessly and constantly postponing things that would bring her joy. So she finally took a long-delayed trip to Italy with her husband.

"You learn to live for today, not tomorrow, in this group."

For Bonnie Devine, 66, her first bout with uterine and ovarian cancer came in 1979, when she was wracked with fear. "Back then, I couldn't even find a support group, and nobody said the word cancer out loud." So Devine dealt with her feelings alone.

Six years ago, the Havertown resident learned she had breast cancer, but this time, after a lumpectomy and radiation treatment, she found immediate support through Rice's writing group. "I didn't have to fall off a cliff and land alone. I felt like a person, not a victim."

"So many things come up in these groups," said Su Kenderdine, a physician from Phoenixville whose experience with cancer, and with Rice's classes, has led her to a new understanding of herself. "Writing is healing, and when you stop being self-conscious about it, it's also extremely freeing. It doesn't make cancer any better or any worse, but it certainly makes dealing with it less lonely."

At a typical workshop session, Rice will spend the first few minutes reading poetry based on the contents' beauty, whimsy, or message. He also presents any pertinent material he has discovered about health and nutrition, cancer breakthroughs in particular.

From there, conversation and sharing flow. The women suggest that the give-and-take is easier experienced than explained. "It just happens," Kenderdine says. And then Rice announces the writing topic of the session, and the women put pen to paper.

"Those 10 minutes are very quiet," says Anne McAssey of Wayne. "I find myself appreciating life more because of these sessions. I've seen very positive changes in myself - I'm listening now to an internal voice."

The women's speed-writing thoughts are then shared; eventually Rice presents each participant with a book. "I try to tailor each book to what I know about each woman, but really, it's just another celebration of the written word," he says.