A Conversation With Jordan and Anna Rathkopf

CaringBridge recently connected with Jordan and Anna Rathkopf to discuss their new book, HER2, which offers a deeply personal exploration of the Rathkopf family’s experience following Anna’s breast cancer diagnosis at age 37. Through Anna’s evocative photography and reflections, they reveal the emotional landscape of rebuilding confidence and reshaping identity from diagnosis to “survivorship.” Jordan’s lens delves into the complexities of caregiving, portraying the often unseen pressures of being a constant pillar of support.

In our conversation, we explore their book, their photography, and how navigating the roles of breast cancer patient and family caregiver deeply impacted their lives and reshaped their relationship.

Tell me the story of the two of you. How did you meet?

Jordan: I was living in the Czech Republic, and Anna is from Prague. We just randomly met one night, and really liked each other. We wound up traveling together and had wonderful times.

This was post-9/11 and it was hard to get to America. We knew we wanted to be together, so we got married very quickly to make it easier for us to live together.

Tell me a little bit about your journey as artists, and what led you to create this deeply personal account of your breast cancer story.

Anna: My uncle is a fine art photographer in the Czech Republic, and my mom is a painter. So while I never formally studied it, I grew up with art and photography.

Jordan: On a trip together, she was carrying all this photography gear and I was like, why are you carrying all this stuff? She told me how fun it was, she showed me, and— yeah, it was fun.

My mother is an artist, and she and my dad met while she was a singer and he was working at the cabaret. Art is definitely in both of our families, but we weren’t pursuing it as a career. After we got married, we were both working office jobs. One day, I decided my heart wasn’t in it and I went into photography. That was going well. And then Anna got sick and our life really changed.

Anna: I’m a photographer. I have a camera as a tool. The day after I heard I had breast cancer, it was like a gut reaction— I felt the need to create memories.

Jordan: I kind of picked up the camera without asking. And then as I started taking photos, I thought, we need to talk about this. I was used to documenting in a very photojournalistic way, but it was different when it was us. And there were different reasons we needed to do it.

For me, it was partly to distance myself from what was going on. Watching her in a chemo chair, grimacing in pain, the fear in her eyes… these things were hard to watch and somehow having a camera made it feel less real, in a weird way.

I was also looking for other stories because I thought, we’re 37, we’re too young for this. I don’t know anyone dealing with this. I went online and the only stuff I found was about people who died young. My feeling was, I really wish that in 10 years Anna will still be here so that we can show other people that as scary as this is, maybe there’s a future you can look to.

So that became for me a hope and an aspiration, documenting it with the hope that over time we could help other people feel less scared.

Anna: Whenever I went to a doctor’s appointment, I would pack the camera. It just put my mind into a creative mode instead of being there stuck thinking, what’s going to happen? Why am I here? It gave me empowerment. When you’re ill, there are so many things that are decided for you. The illness decides how you’re going to feel. The doctors decide the treatment. I felt like I was losing my voice. The camera gave me the empowerment to show my story the way I wanted to show it.

Jordan: As a caregiver, I felt the need to take photos because I was getting a lot of people asking me how it was going, what was happening. I didn’t know what to say. A lot of the time, it was because I was really wrecked and I didn’t want to have to say that things were fine just to make others feel better. I found the photography was a shortcut to communicate to people.

There was something about having a beautiful photo done artfully, that communicated something different altogether. It was about honoring the experience in a different way, giving more respect to the gravity of what we were going through.

Jordan, in the book you describe going to your car every day to cry so Anna wouldn't see. The powerlessness and heartache is a familiar feeling for so many caregivers. What other ways do you manage and cope with your emotions while caring for Anna?

I had to get professional help. I was unwell and it was starting to affect my ability to care for Anna. I was becoming so overwhelmed. And it did help. Then, many years later when we were in more of a stable place, I fell apart again.

The biggest thing that’s changed for me is now I don’t cry as much in private. I’m more open with the people around me. They’ll see me cry and I won’t feel the need to hide it.

Admitting I need help has been really critical, so that I don’t feel more isolated. When I was isolated even among those closest to me, that’s when things started to feel really out of control.

Anna, you mention in the book that when you heard the word cancer, you felt like your life had ended. Yet, there was another day, and another day, and another day. How did you manage to put one foot in front of another in those early days?

I had Jesse, our son. He was two and a half years old when I was diagnosed, and for me, Jesse was just that beacon of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel. He was the person who needed me the most. Every day I looked at him, and I made a promise to myself that I will do anything possible to stay with him.

Jordan, what does the word "caregiver" mean to you?

When Anna got sick, people started saying, “Oh, you’re going to be her caregiver.” I was like, what does that mean? I’m 37 years old. Caregiving was something you did when your parents were really old, or when you yourself are old with your partner.

I was reluctant to use the phrase. I don’t feel like I’m her caregiver. I feel like I’m helping her out. She’s a really strong, capable person.

Then over time, it has shifted. I realize that we are all going to go through situations in which we’re caregivers in one way or another. It doesn’t mean that I’m somehow elevated to some hero position above her. The nature of caregiving is it’s something we all do for each other.

Anna: I prefer the term care partner. My mom got sick two years ago, and I realized how hard it is to take care of somebody who is sick and completely relying on you. I started to understand Jordan’s feelings more.

CaringBridge is on a mission to improve the lives of family caregivers and the loved ones they support on a health journey, specifically solving the overwhelm that comes with 30+ unpaid caregiving hours that exist on top of a 40+ hour work week. How do you both feel CaringBridge could help those that are in a similar position as you?

Jordan: For me as a care partner, it was a pain figuring out how to communicate and how to ask for help. People would drop by and drop off soup— it was nice, but it wasn’t very organized. CaringBridge is a hub that simplifies communications. It’s a great benefit. Our communications were all scattered between text messages and emails. And then I would feel bad when I wouldn’t respond to people’s messages. I started feeling guilty. CaringBridge provides simplicity for a person who already has a lot to manage. It normalizes your needs.

At the end of the book, you say that you're still here, you're still you, but you're different. Describe that.

Anna: When I went to my first oncologist appointment, she told me it was going to be a tough year. That I would have a lot of active treatment. In my mind, I was thinking, okay, once this is over, it will be over. I will be fine. I will go through it and I will be the same person.

Throughout that first year of treatment, I realized that I’m not going to be the same person. The experience and the fear really changed me. I had to start building myself back up. I had shattered confidence because my body, what I rely on for every moment of my life, tried to kill me. I wasn’t ever thinking about mortality until this happened.

Jordan: It was an instant realization that wow, we’re all really going to die. And that has changed me. I want to make sure I spend my time doing what has purpose and meaning. It’s helped me get that North Star in terms of what really matters to me.

What do you hope people take away from the book?

Anna: I hope they won’t feel alone. That they will feel connection no matter where they are or what they’re going through. You can feel so many emotions at once. Grief and gratitude. You can be happy and sad at the same time.

Jordan: I hope for the people that need it, it will provide them support in ways that nothing else quite could. If I had picked up a book like this, it would have helped me tremendously. I hope it continues to give us a platform so we can be in the rooms where the doctors are, where the lawmakers are presenting the realities of an illness, so that we can continue to point towards solutions.