Now before you think I’m a complete klutz, I have a very good explanation. It could just be me or it may have something to do with the nine casts I’ve worn due to surgeries, the leg brace I wore for eight years, or maybe it’s the zipper of stitches along my spine that held my back together when I was just 15 months old.

Dr. Frankenstein’s Guinea Pig
NOW, don’t worry, I wasn’t some guinea pig for Dr. Fankenstein’s illegal medical project. No, at 15 months, I was diagnosed with Astrocytoma a central nervous system tumour that normally occurs in the brain but appeared in my spinal cord. I’m normally a cheerful, happy person but around the time I was diagnosed I was in a painful state. My parents tell me I cried every time they picked me up. They thought I was teething. My Grandma Joan knew something was wrong.

Since the time of my diagnosis, I’ve undergone two serious surgeries. My first was in Calgary, and because my cancer is fairly rare, my doctors weren’t familiar with my case. They were terrified that they would paralyze me for life! My tumour eventually grew back and I ended up flying to New York to have the tumour removed by a very experienced and very successful neurosurgeon.

Between these surgeries I’ve learned to walk twice, but really I’m thankful to walk at all because there was a high chance my lower body would have been permanently paralysized from the surgeries. In other words, a high chance I’d be living in a wheelchair today.

Learning to walk—again
As I learned to walk, I developed a different gait pattern, which has left me with a permanent limp. This is what doctors call the after effects [link] of cancer. Although the cancer itself isn’t even a memory for me, my body and I live with its memory every day.

Doctors, physicians and many therapists have been at my side every step of the way, helping me through the obstacles. Doctors have always wanted to improve my walking patterns by surgery and casting. I feel like these minor surgeries have impacted me more than the cancer itself. I’ve done rehabilitative physiotherapy countless times and currently do physiotherapy weekly. I’ve started school three times with a cast on my left leg. My teachers expect me to heal and wonder why I haven’t healed after the casts come off. I then need to explain why my disability never goes away.

More surgery
In fact, I just found out that I need yet another surgery—this September in the new Children’s Hospital. This surgery will be my most intense surgery since they removed my tumour. Once again, I’ll be starting school with another cast, except this time it will be a full leg cast. Every time I get the news that they want to make more “improvements” on me, I have an emotional breakdown. It feels like all my hard work goes to waste. My hours of stretching and strengthening, and those hour-long bus rides to my physiotherapy sessions go no where. Leaving that last doctor’s appointment, I fell apart. I burst into tears in my mothers arms. I feel like I’m pedaling full speed up hill, but I never reach the top.

I’ll always be labelled the girl who had cancer. But at camp, we’re all the same. I was six when I first discovered Kids Cancer Care Foundation. I was still falling all over the place due to the brace on my foot. But really I was falling in love—with CAMP! And like all my falls it was spectacular! I carried my favourite knapsack with me everywhere. It was purple. It was new. And it was filled with band-aids. My mother never let me go to camp without tons of band-aids.

Camp Made me a Normal Kid
Camp made me a normal kid. I didn’t just FEEL like a normal kid. I AM a normal kid. I rock climb, hike, camp, and do anything my little heart desires.

My first year of camp I was scared to get on the bus but KCCFA not only brings patients and survivors to camp, they also bring siblings. Fortunately, my brother was able to come for the first four years. He was an amazing support. People often forget that when one person in a family is diagnosed with cancer, the whole family is impacted Camp also made my brother realize that he’s not the only one who has a sibling with a history of cancer.

Camp is located just outside Bragg Creek and just inside Kananaskis at a well known camp called Easter Seals Camp Horizon. This camp specializes in people with special needs. They have a giant swing, a climbing wall, high ropes, low ropes, teepees, arts and crafts, a swimming pool, and archery targets. Usually a cancer patient undergoing treatment would need special care and the hospital would rarely allow a child on treatment to do any of these things at a different place. But at camp they take care of children with low immune systems. They help all of us develop the confidence and skills we need to do anything we want.

Tattoo: for Life
This year will be my 10th year at camp. Not only will I be attending camp but I will also be working as a camp counsellor. I have been anxiously waiting to be a counsellor since my first year at camp. Now, it’s my turn to give back. I want to show the kids that there’s life outside of the hospital. I want to show them the outdoors, I want them to explore and love every moment of life. And I want to show them my sweet tattoo. When I got the news of my coming surgery, I was devastated and so were my parents. I had them in an emotional headlock and seized the moment. I asked them to allow me to get a tattoo. They agreed because the tattoo chose represents my life journey with cancer and the Kids Cancer Care Foundation of Alberta. On my left ankle, I now wear the KCCFA hand prints—bright red, green and yellow. KCCFA has marked me for life.

Thank You
If it weren’t for the generous people in the community—KCCFA’s donors, sponsors, volunteers, shavees and community partners—my brother and I would not have had such a wonderful experience with Kids Cancer Care Foundation of Alberta. Thank you.

Danielle was a KCCFA ambassador in 2006. The above story is taken from the speech she gave at fundraising events around the province that year.