Dana Sigley, nurse and caring friend

Dana Sigley couldn't resist skiing down those black-diamond runs in Utah in December. There they stood, like majestic puffs of white clouds, beckoning her.

It didn't matter that she'd had abdominal surgery two weeks earlier. Or that the cancer she'd fought 16 years ago had come back.

The nurse who spent years easing other people's pain chose, for that moment, to forget about her own. She pushed down the slopes like a pro, said her husband, Bob Sigley. It was the last time she would feel the icy mountain air against her cheeks.

Mrs. Sigley died Thursday (May 25) after a second bout with cancer. She was 53.

"She just never wanted to give up," Bob Sigley said.

That attitude permeated everything she did, said her friends and family.

A native of Seattle, Mrs. Sigley was born on Sept. 14, 1952. She graduated from the University of Washington with a bachelor's in nursing, drawn to the science and compassion of the profession.

As an operating-room nurse at Swedish Medical Center for 17 years, Mrs. Sigley was as cheerful and sunny as she was meticulous — a unique combination for such a stressful job, said her husband, a retired general surgeon at Swedish. The couple used to perform surgeries together.

In fact, they met in 1976 in the operating room. The first time they saw each other, she was wearing a surgical mask over her face and a gown over her clothes. Bob Sigley could barely make out what she looked like, but something about the young nurse riveted him.

"I saw her personality and her brown eyes," he said. Later, he said, when they took off their scrubs, "she looked just the way I thought she would look. Just really pretty and pleasant."

Mrs. Sigley was one of those rare types who clung deeply to human connections, said Cary Clark, her friend of 18 years. She always remembered birthdays and maintained friendships through personalized cards, poems or little notes, Clark said. "She never let go of people."

Or her faith in humanity.

In 1989, Mrs. Sigley was diagnosed with breast cancer. Doctors treated her with chemotherapy, and she recovered with a new sense of purpose.

She became president of Team Survivor Northwest, a health and fitness program for women who survive cancer.

She spearheaded a women's tennis league in her Magnolia neighborhood. And two years ago, she joined a women's community Bible-study group.

Mrs. Sigley was full-throttle. She refused to let any moment pass her by, said her stepdaughter, Sara Sigley. "She was the least laziest person I've ever met."

After Thanksgiving last November, Mrs. Sigley noticed a pain in her back that wouldn't let up. She and her husband went to the emergency room. CT scans revealed the cancer had reappeared; this time in her abdomen.

Four different rounds of chemotherapy were no match against the disease that eventually metastasized in her lungs. The woman who loved to talk was weak and robbed of her breath. Her oncologist decided there were no more treatment options for her.

Her many loved ones — friends, neighbors, colleagues and cancer survivors — ached to do something to honor her. Last week, they arranged what they called a "Pink Patio Day," pink being the symbolic color of breast cancer. Beginning at 6 a.m., they began showing up at the front yard of her house with pink balloons, flowers and plants. Many brought handwritten cards, as she had done for them.

Mrs. Sigley remained inside in bed, too ill to join them. That afternoon, she died.

An avid e-mailer, Mrs. Sigley sent out one last message five days before her death. "I've written some hard emails over the past several weeks. This by far is the hardest. ...

"I'm not afraid of the end," she added. "It's just coming sooner than I'd like."

Mrs. Sigley is survived by her husband, Bob Sigley; sons Kevin Sigley and Todd Sigley of Seattle; stepdaughters Karen Sigley of Portland and Sara Sigley of Seattle; mother Pat Hardman of Seattle; and brothers Scott Hardman of Seattle and Rob Hardman of Novato, Calif.

A memorial service will be held at 10 a.m. June 10 at Calvary Christian Assembly, 6801 Roosevelt Way N.E., Seattle.

Sonia Krishnan: 206-515-5546 or skrishnan@seattletimes.com