He is a survivor: Colby’s Journey

Colby was the sweetest (and busiest!) little one-year-old boy, who was into all things sports. Anything that was motor skills related, he would pick up on very quickly. He was fully crawling by the time he was six months old, walking a couple days after he was 10 months old and was obsessed with hockey by the time he was 18 months old. Colby was such a healthy and active little boy, who only ever needed to go to the doctors for check-ups and immunizations. However, after he turned 18 months, he started having a lot of trouble sleeping, became easily irritated and lost his appetite. Despite being a bit off, he still had a considerable amount of energy. We didn’t think anything of it at the time because he was also getting his molars and we figured it might just be one of those phases that kids go through.

Near the end of February 2014, when Colby was 20 months old, he caught a cold. He had a runny nose, low-grade fever, was super irritable and hadn’t had a full night sleep in days. Again, we didn’t think much of it. All the other kids in the day home had colds too (which was not shocking considering it was the middle of winter). After picking Colby up from his day home on Thursday, February 20^th, our day home provider had pointed out some spots along Colby’s arm. These spots were unlike any rash we had seen before. The rash was not raised to touch, didn’t look irritable and Colby didn’t seem bothered. We decided to take him to a walk-in clinic that night just to have him checked out. After the assessment, the doctor figured perhaps it was a cold and sometimes these viruses can display different symptoms, especially in kids. The doctor told us to monitor these spots and if he still had them the following week, we should come back and he would take another look. Off we went. Over that weekend, the spots spread over to his other arm and his legs – but nowhere else on his body. It was definitely weird for us. That Monday, we took Colby in to the same clinic. We visited with a second doctor who had a similar reaction as the first. Deep down we knew something just didn’t seem right with our little boy.

This brings us to Tuesday, February 25^th, 2014. After a long night of crying and failed attempts to comfort an irritable little boy, Colby woke up with a large mass of these spots on his cheek. We were shocked, but we were trying to comfort ourselves because we had just taken him to the doctor the night before. Perhaps it was just a virus. We made an appointment with our family doctor for 10:30 am and were hoping she might have some answers for us, however; she also seemed at a loss. She sent us to the Alberta Children’s Hospital for blood work knowing that we needed to figure this out and that they would be great with someone Colby’s age.

At 1:30 pm, we were back at home and Colby was napping when the phone rang. We were surprised to learn that it was our doctor’s office, as we hadn’t expected them to call us until at least the next day. My husband was standing beside me, while I talked to the doctor. “Stacey, I have Colby’s blood results back already. Can you tell me, where is Colby right now and is anyone with you?” I responded by letting her know Colby was napping and that Curt was home. “Stacey”, she said, “You need to head back to the Alberta Children’s Hospital right away and I think it would be best if you packed a bag as you could potentially be staying overnight. Colby’s blood counts are extremely low. I’m going to send them these results right now and they know you will be coming there soon.”

Not knowing exactly what those blood counts actually meant, we frantically packed a bag, woke Colby up from his nap and drove to the Alberta Children’s Hospital emergency centre. When we got to emergency, there was a long line of families waiting to get in, but when I let the admitting clerk know who we were and showed her the blood counts, we were instantly taken to a room and my mom instinct went off again: “This must be super serious for us to by-pass all those sick families in that waiting room.” Within minutes, we had two nurses come in to assess Colby and we thought it was strange how they were both fully gowned up (masks and all) when they came in. Soon after, the emergency doctor came in and started talking to us about what the low counts meant for Colby. Hemoglobin is your oxygen providers; it gives our body energy. Platelets are the clotting agents; they prevent the body from bruising and bleeding. White blood counts are what defend us against virus and germs. They keep the body healthy. As he was describing these functions, Colby was running around the room like a normal healthy child. The Doctor said, “If Colby was a teenager or adult with that low of a hemoglobin count, he would have no energy to even get out of bed. It’s interesting to see him have all this energy.” While this doctor was really kind – he never did give us any indication of what might be wrong with Colby. The doctor left saying that someone else would be coming to visit us shortly. We both knew that the next visit would be challenging.

Our next visitor walked in and introduced herself as an oncologist. Our hearts shattered when she said that. The only reason a cancer doctor would be here is to tell us every parent’s worst nightmare. She calmly told us that she had just looked at Colby’s blood work and that she was devastated to tell us that Colby had leukemia. Our whole world seemed broken in that moment. Up until that point, my husband and I had kept it together, because as scary as everything was, nobody had told us anything as to what it might be, but as soon as we heard those words, it was real. It was serious. It was scary. It was happening to our little boy.

Leukemia – cancer of the blood. This is the reason why Colby’s white blood count was so much higher than his hemoglobin and his platelets. These abnormal white cells were crowding Colby’s bone marrow and preventing his body from producing other cell types. Those weird spots were actually petechia – a reddish spot on the surface of the skin as a result of tiny hemorrhages of blood vessels.

Things started to happen extremely fast over the next few days at the hospital. That evening, Colby was admitted to Unit One at the Alberta Children’s Hospital and required two blood transfusions and platelets. The next day, they performed a bone marrow aspiration (BMA) and, by 5:00 pm that evening, they confirmed that Colby had pre-B acute lymphoblastic leukemia. On Thursday, Colby had surgery to put in an IVAD (implanted vascular access device). By Friday, February 28, 2014, Colby had received his first treatment of chemotherapy.

Colby was still admitted the following week and that’s when we had our first encounter with Kids Cancer Care. It was a Wednesday night – Pizza Night. For the first time since we were admitted, we left our room and wandered down the hall to where they host Pizza Night and we were introduced to the lovely Kids Cancer Care volunteers. The volunteers provided us with some reassuring smiles, some warm and comforting hugs and, of course, some delicious pizza. Pizza probably doesn’t seem like a very big deal to most, but for us, it was the first opportunity to interact with others on the unit. A lot of the children on the unit are in isolation, so there is often very limited interaction between families, as they are in the rooms caring for their children. Colby hadn’t been eating much since he started undergoing everything, so to see him devour the pizza was a warm and welcome relief for everyone.

The treatment for leukemia is long. Over three years. Three years was more than a lifetime to Colby. The most intense part of that treatment occurs over four different phases.

The first phase of treatment (Induction) was one of the most difficult. The chemotherapy started to kick in and Colby also needed to take a steroid for 29 straight days. The steroid had such awful side effects, including difficulty sleeping, severe mood changes, muscle weakness and an increase in appetite. While on the steroids, Colby ended up gaining over 30 per cent of his body weight and could barely walk by the end of the dosage. After the first phase was complete, it was determined that Colby had now fallen into a high-risk group based on the number of residual cells that were remaining, when they performed another BMA on day eight. As a result, he was now going to receive high-dose chemotherapy protocols for the remainder of his journey.

The phases of treatment and months that followed were by far some of the most difficult experiences we could have imagined. Each phase of treatment introduced new chemotherapies, which all had their own laundry list of potential side effects, some short-term and some that could extend into adulthood. Our new normal revolved around blood counts, chemotherapy and intrathecal chemotherapy (given through lumbar punctures), extended hospital stays, clinic appointments, blood and platelet transfusions, nausea and isolation. Quite often, Colby’s white blood cell count was so low that he was considered neutropenic, meaning that he had next to nothing for an immune system. As a result, we were isolated from the general public and had limited interaction with others for months, as we tried to ensure that our house remained a sterile and safe haven for us as we lived in fear of getting sick and putting Colby at risk.

In September 2014, our life got even more hectic as we welcomed our second son (Benson) into the world. We had just found out were expecting two weeks before Colby was diagnosed. This was particularly challenging as Colby was also undergoing the most intense phase of treatment (delayed intensification). This particular phase required daily clinical chemo appointments and even more blood transfusions. Overall, Colby was at his weakest and seemed to be in the most pain during this phase. It was as if that final phase of treatment was going to shut down his body with the hope that when it started back up afterwards, it would be fresh and healthy.

Finally, in early November 2014, Colby had been given the okay to start the final phase of treatment, called maintenance, which was scheduled to last until June 2017. For three years, Colby was going to require IVAD chemotherapy and steroids every four weeks in addition to lumbar punctures for intrathecal chemotherapy every three months and daily oral chemotherapy (two doses on Mondays) that needed to be administered from home. During this phase, the goal was to eliminate the potential of any additional cancer cells. The dosage of chemotherapy was always a delicate balance as they tried to ensure that his white blood cells were not too high or too low to optimize the best dosage to be effective, while still allowing Colby the ability to fight off infection.

With a newborn and an immunosuppressed toddler, we continued to be fearful of public outings, because every time Colby had a fever, it was a frantic rush back to the Alberta Children’s Hospital. The possibility of being admitted would be even more difficult as we tried to figure out the care for both children. We discovered Jamie’s Preschool, which is truly a wonderful place that provides a safe environment for children like Colby to attend, so they can socialize and play with children their age. It was our saving grace at the time, as it helped us start feeling more comfortable leaving the house. It was through Jamie’s Preschool that I met other cancer moms who talked to us about the programs Kids Cancer Care offers and how the foundation provided them with so much support and created such a strong community for our families.

As Colby continued to stabilize and we settled into our new routines that were a part of maintenance, Kids Cancer Care provided us with opportunities to have quality experiences again and forget for a while the challenges that Colby was experiencing. Our first interaction was an invitation to the Calgary Hitmen game in a private box. It was so uplifting to see him smiling and be excited. The game was a great distraction from the harsh reality we had been living for almost a year now.

From that first hockey game, we became active members of Kids Cancer Care programs. Our first visit and introduction to Camp Kindle was that spring for Mother’s Day Brunch, which was a beautiful way for us to spend the day as a family. We also attended Family Camp that year, which provided an incredible and much-needed weekend retreat. That summer, Colby attended a special day at WinSport with Kids Cancer Care, where he got to experience a variety of different activities. But his favourite program that summer was definitely Kids Cancer Care’s SunRise day camps. It was the first time since Colby had been diagnosed that we left him in the care of someone else who wasn’t immediate family. We knew that he was in the amazing care of Kids Cancer Care’s staff and volunteers. He had the best time at camp and it was so heartwarming to see a child, who had been through so much, enjoy life again. The programs that Kids Cancer Care offers are such an incredible distraction during difficult journeys that allow these children who have dealt with so much to have experiences they miss out on while in treatment or as a result of treatment.

We often used pictures from Kids Cancer Care events or activities that Colby had attended to distract him while he was in clinic or whenever he was admitted. Being immunosuppressed for as long as Colby was made him susceptible to getting sick. Common childhood viruses like hand, foot and mouth disease were so extreme for Colby that he ended up on pain medications to help get him through it because he didn’t have the immune system to fight it off properly. Additionally, he often experienced a ton of aching and pain in his legs and joints – especially after his IV chemo appointments and the five-day steroid pulses. Despite all the pain, Colby still had a passion for being active and all things sports, so when he had his bad days and he was struggling to walk and get around, it was really tough to watch and imagine how it might get better. Luckily for us, and Colby, Kids Cancer Care offers a PEER program (Pediatric cancer patients and survivors Engaging in Exercise for Recovery) that encourages children to keep moving and stay active through sports, games and other fun activities.

This past June was finally the milestone we had been waiting for since Colby was first diagnosed. On June 12^th, 2017, Colby was officially done treatment. It was a day of overwhelming emotions and anticipation. Our brave warrior was done after three long years. We celebrated with family and friends who were all there for us throughout the entire journey. It truly takes a large network and support system to help these children fight these battles and Kids Cancer Care was a huge part of that support system for us. Children can’t do it alone, and neither could we. It was an emotional and painful journey, but at that same time, it was also inspiring. Children truly are resilient and determined. As hard as this whole journey was, Colby still would find the strength to smile, laugh, be silly and inspire us to stay strong and work together as a team.

Colby’s been off treatment now for almost three months and we are now adapting to this new phase. Like each phase of treatment, this too brings a wave of emotion that is beyond measure. It’s so relieving to know that he is done and that we can finally have a healthy kid again, but at the same time, there is so much fear that comes along. We can only hope that everything he has gone through over the past few years is enough to keep him from relapsing. It’s an adjustment going from daily, weekly or monthly blood work to now only getting it done every two months. The reality is, Colby had been on treatment for longer than his life span. We really forgot what it was like to have him be healthy and ‘normal’.

This fall, Colby will get to attend kindergarten and he is so excited. Colby is also registered to play hockey and is already practicing his slap shot down in our basement. He continues to look forward to programs that Kids Cancer Care provides so that he can see his friends – and his fellow warriors. He’s happier, healthier and more energetic than we ever remember him being. He is currently feeling great and we are thankful to everyone who was part of this journey – Colby’s oncologist, the nurses and support staff at the Alberta Children’s Hospital, our strong family, our incredible network of friends, the amazing people at Jamie’s Preschool and the wonderful employees and volunteers at Kids Cancer Care. The fears, the side-effects, the emotions and the struggles are forever and are always going to be part of Colby’s life, but this journey is also going to shape him into a remarkable young man, who is stronger and braver than his years. He was a fighter and now he is a survivor.

– Stacey & Curtis Kucharuk, Colby’s mom & dad

Give blood in honour of Colby
Kids Cancer Care has partnered with Canadian Blood Services for Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Colby received lifesaving blood and platelet donations during his treatment thanks to giving people like you. Book your blood donation appointment in honour of Colby today. Please contact the Lifebus/Group appointment coordinator at 403-410-2722 or via email.

Julia was our little sister. We were six and four years old, so we were quite a bit older than her. We also have an older sister, so we are all fairly spread out. She was the baby of the family. She was a little bit stubborn, a little bit bossy (actually, a lot bossy). But she was awesome. She was always open to anything – if we went to play hockey, she’d come too. She was just like that.

Shane: Out of three sisters, she was my favourite.
Teagan: Excuse me!

Our childhood cancer journey started one summer when we were all at a regular summer camp. Julia got really sick. She’d been diagnosed with a sinus infection – and so we just thought it was that. When she said she was feeling sick, we truly thought it was just the sinus infection.

Then, soon after, the tumour started growing out of her nose and we realized she had been misdiagnosed. When they took her in to the hospital, we didn’t go with our parents. But we all knew something was really wrong. The rest of us kids just stayed home watching TV, which we thought was pretty cool at the time since we were still pretty young.

That night, our mom and sister Julia stayed at the hospital.

Teagan: My dad came home and then he just sat us down and told us that Julia had cancer, and that it was stage three… she’d be starting chemo within days. We didn’t really have time to digest it.

At first it was easy for us siblings, because we didn’t really understand it. She was still Julia to us. She still had her normal face and her normal hair, and the same personality. But with the chemo, her hair started to fall out and it really started to sink in. Whenever we got sick, we weren’t allowed to be near her because she was very sick and her immune system was very low. So we just didn’t see our sister. That was different.

Shane: It took a while to actually realize that it was cancer, it was life-threatening. And, as soon as that realization sunk in, it was really hard, because there was nothing that I could do. Her life depended on the doctors and the nurses, so we had to sit back and watch it all happen.

We were so hopeful, because she had a really high survival rate at the start, but then she relapsed. A number of times. And every time she relapsed, there was less of a chance. And every time she relapsed, it got even less.

Teagan: Our parents didn’t treat her any different. There were times when she wasn’t sick and she just didn’t want to go to school. Our mom would usher her out the door. They wanted her to keep up with her friends and go to school…be a normal kid. That was best for her. If we were going to a hockey game, she was bald, so she’d put on a warm hat, a scarf, and she was coming. It helped her in more ways than anything else.

Julia had to do daily stretches because one of her medications affected her legs. And if we didn’t give her stretches, she wouldn’t be able to walk properly and she’d have to go into a wheelchair. The stretches were painful. She hated it. Her hands and feet were sensitive because she felt pain all the time. Even when our mom would cut her nails, it was a huge deal. She would be bawling because it hurt. It’s a normal thing that none of us think about, but it hurt her. We just can’t even understand or comprehend how much pain she actually went through.

Her final relapse diagnosis was in October 2012. They didn’t think she would live past Christmas. But she did.

In January 2013, she went to sleep one night and just didn’t really wake up. So we knew something was happening.

Shane: I went to school that day and Teagan went to the hospital. It was about 10 in the morning and they called the school. One of our family friends picked me up.

Teagan: They were hoping to get Shane before it happened. I was in the room when it happened. If I remember correctly, my mom and dad were in the room as well. She just stopped breathing. We were supposed to shuffle her pillow whenever that happened, so we called and the nurse quickly ran into the room. I remember, I just glanced over at the clock and it was 11:04 am. The nurse shuffled her pillow, but she didn’t breathe again. She was gone. Shane and my older sister Emma were on their way. They arrived just after the fact and I remember that was the first time I ever saw my dad cry.

We didn’t leave that room for hours. We just hung out there. We stayed there for six hours. We didn’t know what to do. They let us. They let us stay there and sit with her. The nurses took away the machine. We just stayed there for a while, just kind of letting it all soak in.

Teagan: Nothing really felt real. It took a long time. For months after, we would turn on the TV in the mornings, but would turn it down low, so we wouldn’t wake her up. Then we’d think, “Wait a second, I don’t need to turn it down anymore.” Julia and I shared a room, so I would just look at her bed. We never really got rid of all her stuff, so years later, I will still see some of her. It never really sets in and it really never goes away.

People, when they find out, immediately back off. They assume that we don’t want to talk about it or talk about her. And some people deal with grief that way. In our family, we like to continuously remember her. We still celebrate her birthday every year. She would have been 13 in September. We release wish lanterns and have a party, inviting all of her friends. We never stop remembering. We have a lot of great memories with her.

Teagan: We were sisters, so we’d fight – we were both stubborn. But near the end, when she was really sick, she couldn’t use her fingers very well, so I would play Pokemon for her. She would boss me around, tell me what moves to make and such, and it was the closest we’d ever been. Instead of fighting, we just spend days and days together. It was really bittersweet, because we knew it was the end, but it was still really great.

Shane: Her entire childhood was great. We just used to play all the time, and I kind of miss that actually. Her favourite thing to do was play with Build-a-Bears and we did everything with those. We even set up on our stairs a hockey match. I brought out mini sticks and we played. We used to just play all the time.

Kids Cancer Care just stepped in and said “Hey, we’re here guys.” They were immediately there the second Julia went into the hospital, they contacted our family. They were supportive. They never left us feeling unimportant. They told the two of us that if WE, the siblings, ever needed a break, we could also go to their events and programs.

We went to the opening when they built the new camp, Camp Kindle. Julia was so excited to be able to go to camp the next summer. She was so excited to go swimming and do all these things they had at camp. She never got to do any of those things.

Our family got to go to Kids Cancer Care things after she passed too. We got to go to Hitmen games and Stampeders games. We would get to meet people who had the same experiences as us. It’s a small world. You’d see people there and think, “I didn’t know they had an experience with childhood cancer.” You don’t feel so alone; you feel like you are not the only family that had to go through that. You get different perspectives – you talk to someone who had cancer themselves and how they felt and how they felt bad for their siblings. It just brings everybody together and they’re supported – through friendship. And most importantly, Kids Cancer Care makes you feel normal.

– Shane and Teagan

Like many great western legends, it began with a wager at a local watering hole. A leather-clad biker named Dirtdog bet a good ol’ cowboy that he could raise more money for charity by bartending than he could. The cowboy took the bet and the challenge was on. That first weekend the cowboy and his friends tended bar and the following weekend, the biker and his crew took over.

As with all legendary tales, someone won by a landslide. Dirtdog and his crew walked out of that bar and off into the sunset the victors.

The challenge was all in good fun. The money raised was to be donated to charity. Dirtdog, also known at Matthew Janzen, caught the fundraising bug. The challenge inspired him to begin a local motorcycle rally, with proceeds going to charity. And with that, the Strathmore Poker Run was born.

In its first couple years, the event was small, but mighty with funds raised going to a local children’s charity. Riders set off from Strathmore and hit five stops in southern Alberta. At each stop, riders pull a card out of a shuffled deck of cards. By the last stop, and many hours later, the motorcyclists will have a complete poker hand. The best and worst hand receive various prizes and plaques.

It was a labour of love by Matt and twelve other committee members. Matt led with his charismatic, friendly, brazen, hardworking attitude.

What started as a challenge between two very different groups of locals – bikers versus cowboys, –became an annual event that brought the community together. People of all backgrounds, lifestyles, and experiences came together to ride or participate in the weekend’s events.

And a stereotype was beginning to soften. Bikers, often judged as a bad group of tough guys, were out on the road doing good, raising money for a good cause.

A couple years into the annual event, Matt was diagnosed with cancer. It was a tough blow to the friendly, outgoing biker, who had dedicated the last few years to the big fundraiser. While undergoing treatment, Matt became inspired by the children who fought the disease. Going through his own battle as an adult, Matt was heartbroken to learn that children, so young and vulnerable, were faced with the rigours of cancer treatments. He spoke with his fellow committee members.

In its third year, the Strathmore Poker Run chose the Kids Cancer Care Foundation of Alberta to be the beneficiary of their event, in honour of the children undergoing cancer treatment who had inspired Matt. Sadly, Matt lost his battle with cancer in 2002.

The legacy left by Matt grew from there. Today, the Strathmore Poker Run is a three-day celebration. On Friday night, there is a Shave You Lid for a Kid® head shave. In 2011, Matt’s mom shaved her head in honour of her son’s memory. Saturday features the poker run, the longest poker run, in kilometres, in southern Alberta. Stops include Rockyford, Carbon, Wayne and Standard, all of which open their community and their hearts to the riders. In the evening, the riders return to Strathmore for their last stop and a dinner and dance. A local band plays, while bikers and their supporters dance the night away. On the Sunday, the focus turns to families, with a motorcycle rally and other activities for everyone to enjoy.

The event is run solely by volunteers and local sponsors. Without these generous members of the community, t-shirts wouldn’t be printed, silent auction items wouldn’t be sourced and won and dinner wouldn’t be served (to over 160 people!).

And they know, Matt would be proud of what they have achieved in his memory. Over the past 17 years, they have raised $219,496.69 for Kids Cancer Care. The funds raised support families through the entire continuum of childhood cancer — fighting the disease on all fronts by igniting joy and laughter at camp; funding innovative science in the lab and providing the best care and treatments at the hospital; and creating brighter futures for survivors through education support and post-secondary scholarships.

And it’s still a labour of love for the 13 committee members. They have been known to be out mowing grass and setting up tents on Friday, rolling up their sleeves to serve dinner on Saturday and cleaning up when the event is over on Sunday. They do it because they know it’s what Matt would have done. Some of them are even permanently inked themselves with Strathmore Poker Run tattoos.

Sandy Scobie, one of the organizers of the events says, “It’s great to look back at where we’ve been and the impact we have made. It’s lots of work but it’s worth it.

When she’s asked what the goal is for 2017, she simply says, “Any amount raised for us is a success.”

We think Dirtdog would agree.

The 18^th Annual Strathmore Poker Run takes place June 23 to 25^th, 2017. For more information click here.

Our son Ryan was almost two, when he was diagnosed with a brain stem cancer. This is the worst possible place for a tumour and it was inoperable. After meeting with his oncologist, Paul and I learned that Ryan had only weeks to live.

When you hear something like that, your world collapses. Nothing makes any sense. And you ask, “Why?” But there is no why. There are no answers.”

Still holding out hope, we started Ryan on chemotherapy straight away. What followed were months of invasive cancer treatments and terrible side-effects for Ryan. The chemotherapy made him vomit over 20 times a day and the radiation caused seizures every day. The steroids made him balloon up and caused severe mood swings. Ryan was seen in more than 13 different clinics and none of them could really help him very much. Our son was dying and there wasn’t anything we could do about it.

It’s really difficult to watch your child go through all these treatments, but he was amazing. We were really proud of him. He didn’t complain about having needle pokes in his chest or the chemotherapy or anything. He was just there trying to make everyone else happy.

He was such a loving little boy and so smart. He was full of love and warmth and always saw the best in people.

During Ryan’s treatment, we were a family divided between hospital and home. I was at the hospital with Ryan four or five days a week. Paul and Matthew, our oldest son, were at home, trying to lead a normal life. After Matthew was finished school for the day and Paul was finished work, they would drive into Calgary from Canmore to see me and Ryan at the hospital most evenings.

Ryan was in a wheelchair for most of this time, so his life was limited. And there was nothing that Paul and I or his big brother Matthew could do to help him.

After months of aggressive treatments, our sweet little boy passed away at the age of three. No child or parent should ever have to experience this.

Then it’s just numbness for months. You’re in shock that you could lose your child – that he’s gone. He’s not there anymore. Over time, you may get a little better at hiding it and you may get a little more used to it, but life is so different and you’re not the same person anymore. You start imagining what life would be like if he was still alive. What would he look like? Would he still have the same infectious giggle? Would he still want to snuggle on the couch with us and watch dinosaur programs?

Paul and I discovered that you don’t only lose your child when this happens. You lose everything. Friends suddenly fall away. They start avoiding you at the grocery store or looking the other way at the playground. They are not being mean or spiteful. They’re just frightened. They don’t know what to say or do to ease your pain, so they turn away.

After we lost Ryan, Kids Cancer Care was the only organization that stayed in touch with us. They continued to reach out and embrace our family. They welcomed us into their programs and connected us with other bereaved families. It is such an amazing comfort to know someone is there for you – someone who understands.

Kids Cancer Care now offers a Bereaved Family Camp. Knowing other bereaved families – and there are so many – has been huge for us! We can talk about anything together. Nothing is off limits. There are no awkward smiles or uncomfortable sighs – just an instant bond. We all just get it.

Our oldest son Matthew still goes to Camp Kindle every summer. He looks forward to it all year. Camp has done wonders for his confidence! He’s made a lot of friends and met a lot of counsellors there he can talk to. I don’t know what we would do without Kids Cancer Care.

Matthew is now 11 years old and we since had two more children: Charlotte is almost three years old and Edward is just 16 weeks old. We tell them that they have a beautiful big brother in heaven looking over them. Matthew shows Charlotte photographs of Ryan all the time and there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t mention his name. Ryan is still and, will always be, a huge part of our lives.

~ Amanda Carrington

Our 2017 Father’s Day video features Ryan’s dad, Paul:

“Three days after his 10^th birthday, our son Joel was diagnosed with medullablastoma. It was one of the darkest day of our lives and the first time Joel ever saw his father cry.”— Ed Zukowski

They called him the Polish Prince at the hospital and, with a name like Zukowski, it’s not hard to imagine why. But Joel’s nickname originated from something more profound than a surname. The nurses and doctors called him the Polish Prince because, for a 10-year-old boy, Joel exhibited uncommon valor in the face of cancer.

“Joel faced every treatment with such quiet courage,” says Joel’s father Ed. “He was so brave in his acceptance of it. He made it so much easier on the medical staff because he didn’t fight it.”

After months of symptoms that stumped both his parents and doctors, Joel was diagnosed with medulloblastoma. He had a tumour about the size of kiwi at the base of his head. This was the source of the migraines, dizzy spells, nausea and vomiting that had plagued Joel over the last year.

It was a solid mass, which hadn’t spread, so it was operable. The doctors were confident Joel would make it, if they could remove the tumour.

The treatment plan called for surgery, followed by radiation and four rounds of high-dose chemotherapy, each followed by a stem cell transplant. Considered radical at the time, the treatment demanded vast reserves of inner strength and self-mastery from Joel.

When Joel woke up after surgery, he was initially unable to speak or move. He would lie there, staring at the ceiling for hours on end. It was weeks before Joel could move again.

Before giving him chemo, they harvested 350 million stem cells from his body, which they later froze and re-injected into Joel after each round of chemo. The hardest part for Joel wasn’t the vomiting or the hair loss. It was lying perfectly still for two days straight, while they harvested the cells.

Radiation demanded even more restraint and self-control from Joel. With each round of radiation, Joel’s face was fitted into a plastic mask, secured to the gurney on which he lay. Again, Joel had to lie perfectly still, so the radiation would hit only specified areas and avoid healthy brain tissue. The procedure made him nauseous and Joel had to summon all his powers of concentration to avoid throwing up.

Not long ago, Joel’s treatment was considered radical by most Canadian oncologists. Today, it is considered the most effective and safest treatment for medulloblastoma, curing 80 per cent of children diagnosed with it.

Joel and his family were pioneers in medical research and, although he remained cancer-free for five years, in 2014, Joel relapsed. After a long seven-year battle with cancer, Joel passed away on October 3, 2015 at the age of 16.

Three days before passing away, Joel insisted on going shopping to buy his mother a birthday gift. By this time, he was in a wheelchair. Before they entered each store, Joel would muster all his energy to pull himself out of his wheelchair. Hooking arms with his mom, they would browse around, laughing and joking together. He did find the perfect gift; however, it would be the last gift he would ever buy. But that’s how Joel was. He was a thoughtful and generous guy.

And, he had incredible resolve.

Among Joel’s many passions was golf. About three weeks before he passed away, his family went golfing in Kananaskis. It was a bitterly cold day. It was raining and blowing so hard the rain was coming down sideways. Joel was fatigued and cold, but he was determined to enjoy himself.

“By this time, Joel was 90 per cent numb from the waist down,” says his mother Dale. “We had purchased walking poles to help him walk and for balance. Instead of being embarrassed, he was quite proud of his poles and covered them with bright neon stickers.”

Secretly, the rest of the group wanted to pack up and go home, but after quick break in the clubhouse, Joel had bounced back.

Smiling from ear to ear, he said: “Mom, I had a snack and warmed up. Now I have a second wind. Uncle Richard got a handicap flag for the golf cart, so we can drive right up to the golf ball.”

After a brief pause, Joel fired up, “Well, what are we standing around for? Let’s go!”Joel demonstrated a similar resolve in his volunteer work. A Kids Cancer Care spokeskid, he continued to represent the foundation, even when he was very sick and just weeks away from passing. He was wise beyond his years and touched countless lives, inspiring a legacy of fundraising for Kids Cancer Care in his honour.

“Although it has been so challenging,” says Ed. “The experience forced us to open up and share our burdens with others. What kept Joel going the whole time was remembering all the people who love him. Kids Cancer Care showed us we are not alone and played a huge role in helping Joel to have fun, fulfill his potential and maintain a positive attitude right up until the end.”

New insights into medullablastoma

Calgary cancer scientists are discovering that medulloblastoma is not really one entity. There seems to be subtypes of medulloblastoma that behave differently from each other and are therefore more or less sensitive to certain treatments. This is explains why reaching 100 per cent cure rate for medullablastoma has been elusive. University of Calgary scientists are creating models of medulloblastoma and other brain tumours, so that they can study the diseases and the effects of drugs on them before introducing them to children. Working with these models, medical teams hope to test and safely introduce promising new drugs to kids whose frontline therapy has failed. New research is vital for children with refractory and relapsed cancers. To donate to research, click here.

Please watch our 2017 Father’s Day video, featuring Ed Zukowski:

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” – Carol Sobieski and Thomas Meehan, Annie

Founded in 1994 from Christine McIver’s basement, the small but mighty organization, caring for families affected by childhood cancer, was finally ready for it’s first big move. The year was 1998 and Kids Cancer Care was relocating to a real office.

Like a young adult, moving from Mom’s basement to your first real home, you suddenly find yourself with a new amount of space. And you need furniture. And lots of it.

Christine knew exactly what to do. She reached out to friends and local radio hosts Don, Joanne and the Coach. Their morning show was the most heard on Calgary’s airwaves. They put out the call. And their supporters and clients furnished the entire Kids Cancer Care office.

“That has always been the essence of Don, Joanne and Coach’s partnership and friendship with Kids Cancer Care,” Christine, Founder and CEO, says. “No matter the request, whether it was tickets that needed selling or those desks; they have never turned us down.”

One of Kids Cancer Care’s first signature events was the Golf a Kid to Camp tournament. Don, Joanne and the Coach came on board a couple years into the tournament and asked how they could help. Their station and the radio hosts helped take the tournament to the successful event is it today. The Don, Joanne and the Coach Golf a Kid to Camp tournament has raised over $3 million in its 23 years and has sent thousands of children with cancer to camp. This is an unspeakable joy for children with cancer and a precious gift for which they will long be grateful.

After being involved with the tournament for a few years, Joanne took a week of her vacation and volunteered as a one-to-one for a camper who needed additional support.

“She came back from camp and said, ‘When I retire, I want to work at Camp Kindle,” Christine remembers fondly.

In 2003, the trio shaved their heads to show solidarity and support for children affected by cancer through Kids Cancer Care’s largest fundraising initiative, Shave Your Lid for a Kid®. By shaving their heads, they provided much needed moral support for the kids who lose their hair during cancer treatments in a public forum.

Nine years ago, Don Stevens took on an even bigger role at Kids Cancer Care. As a dedicated supporter and a huge part of the tournament sponsorship committee, Don joined the Kids Cancer Care Board of Directors. Since then, his expertise and experience in media has put the spotlight on childhood cancer and given the organization so much awareness in Southern Alberta.

Over the years, the radio hosts and Kids Cancer Care have shared in many milestones. Don, Joanne and the Coach even emceed Christine’s 50^th birthday celebrations. We were there when the Coach departed Calgary in 2009 when his wife’s work took the couple to California. The tournament would go on that year as “The Don and Joanne Golf a Kid to Camp,” but the Coach was definitely missed.

The Coach doesn’t golf in the tournament. Instead rides around with Kids Cancer Care’s spokeskid, socializing with volunteers and golfers.

“The year Coach returned to Calgary, Trico Homes did a putt-to-win contest where you had to putt into a toilet from one of the showhomes,” Kids Cancer Care’s Megan Gough shares. “We got the photos back from the event photographer and there was Coach, sitting on the toilet holding an event program. It was awesome.”

Coming up this year, we will celebrate another milestone with Don, Joanne and the Coach. The team is retiring from the Calgary airwaves and Don’s tenure on our board will come to an end. And 2017 will mark The Final Don, Joanne and the Coach a Kid to Camp tournament. We anticipate a sell-out and one of the best years yet in fundraising.

As she looks back on the relationship between these outstanding Calgarians and Kids Cancer Care, Christine notes, “They have become such advocates of children affected by cancer and their families, and on top of that, such good personal friends. They may be leaving the airwaves, but they will never leave our hearts.”

She adds – “Plus, we still have a job for Joanne out at camp.”

Thank you to Don Stevens, Joanne Johnson and Jamie Herbison (The Coach) for your dedication to our cause and our community. Enjoy retirement and the greens!

The Final Don, Joanne & the Coach Golf a Kid to Camp is Thursday, August 10th, 2017 at Cottonwood Golf and Country Club.

Click here to register your team today.

In December 2013, my son Marshall was just about two when he came down with a cold that just wouldn’t go away. Then one day in early January, he went down for a nap and woke up with a red eye. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I called Health Link. They said to monitor him and if it got worse to take him to a walk-in clinic. Well, sure enough, it got worse. After our visit to the walk-in, we were sent to Alberta Children’s Hospital for further investigation.

It wasn’t long before Marshall was being held down to find a vein for a round of antibiotics. He was not even two, so holding him down was not easy. He looked so tiny to me. After a round of antibiotics, we were sent home and told to come back in 12 hours if it got worse.

Twelve hours later his eye was swollen shut. Back at the Children’s, they ordered a CT-Scan. Marshall was diagnosed with an infection in his eye and admitted. He was constantly monitored, had a ton of blood work, and was sent home after five days with an oral antibiotic.

After a full week of being stuck in a crib with his swollen eye and antibiotics, he wasn’t walking much. He was still so young, so I thought he’d just need some time to get back to his old self. When he tried to walk after a week, he would scream in pain. It was awful. At one point he fell on his bum. I expected him to cry a little and get back up, like a normal toddler. But instead, he was in agony, rolling around on the floor. We went back to see the infectious disease team, as I knew something was still very wrong with our little boy.

Thus began many appointments. We saw a neurologist and many other doctors. They thought maybe his infection had travelled from his eye to his hips. In mid-February, we were referred to the Pediatric Rheumatology Clinic. Marshall got another CBC (complete blood count) and sent for an ultrasound. That day, after that appointment, I dropped him off at his day-home and went to work. The doctor called and said his potassium was high and we needed to bring him back right away. He was at risk of going into shock. When we arrived back at the hospital, we were admitted right away. A biopsy was ordered for the next day. We were told it could be cancer. It was a Thursday. More dire cases came in, so we got bumped. Poor Marshall had fasted and because of his potassium, he swelled up. It was so hard to see him like that. Little did we know what was to come.

On Friday, Marshall was bumped again. Saturday…Sunday…and Monday he was bumped again. Usually I’m a pretty calm and understanding person, but at this point I was losing it.

Finally on Tuesday, he went in for a biopsy. We were told it was leukemia. It was so hard to hear, but finally we had some answers. The oncologist was awesome. He explained why the leukemia was impairing his ability to walk. Because it was a blood cancer, it was affecting his bone marrow and causing pain.

At that point, we were moved to the oncology ward, Unit 1. This is where we had our first introduction to the fantastic people of Kids Cancer Care. We were right in the middle of what I call “The Zombie Phase” of childhood cancer for parents. Everything was a fog. We felt so alone – no one we knew had any experience with childhood cancer. Then a Kids Cancer Care volunteer appeared at our door and said “It’s Pizza Night.” Marshall was in isolation, so I went down to the Sunshine Room and there was all this pizza. The volunteers explained that they would be there every Wednesday with pizza and someone to talk to. It felt so amazing to be welcomed into that group of people.

We were there for a month as they tried to figure out Marshall’s potassium levels. Marshall had developed a respiratory virus and had a pic line put in. It was so scary for him to see this tube hanging out of his arm. A volunteer at the Children’s gave us a little sleeve to put over it and hide it. It was like a security blanket, while he had the tube for the first month. He still has it. He also had an IVAD port put in to administer his treatments.

That whole first year was a fog. And even when we hit the maintenance period, as much as everyone says “you are in the home stretch,” it was hard. Marshall had oral chemo every day and went in once a month for an IV of chemo. He also received steroids once a month for five days. It was really tough on his little body. It was such a vicious cycle. The steroids would kick in, then it would take two weeks for him to come off the effects of the steroids. So we’d basically get our son back for a week, then it would be back on steroids. The steroids made him so hungry, and he’d have to fast to get chemo in his spine. That really sucked. There’s no other way to say it.

Marshall’s older sister Kendal had already started kindergarten at that time. Having a big sister, who goes to school every day, meant she was always coming home with coughs and colds. It was so hard isolating them from each other. As parents, it was a constant internal battle. Do we send her to school and risk her spreading her cold around school, or do we keep her at home with our immune suppressed son?

Childhood cancer is hard on all members of the family. Kendal was just five when her brother was diagnosed. It was an especially scary and sad time for her. She was home with Dad and I was at the hospital with Marshall. It was hard to feel so disconnected as a family.

I am so glad that Kids Cancer Care programs are open to siblings too. Camp especially has been amazing for Kendal. Both Kendal and Marshall attended SunRise day camps that first summer. But last year, Kendal went on her first week-long sleep over camp at Camp Kindle. I was so nervous, but she came back a brand new kid. She seemed taller and older when I picked her up. She had a new independence about her. She still talks about her new friends, the camp volunteers and the fresh waffles every morning. She said to me “Mom, I didn’t miss the iPad or TV. I learnt to swim!” It meant the world to me that she could go and have a week of fun and leave all the troubles of having a brother with cancer at home. She’s so excited to go back this summer.

Marshall has done so well at SunRise over the past few years. One year, they were able to do a one-night sleepover at Camp Kindle. Fortunately, we’d all been to the Mother’s Day Brunch through Kids Cancer Care’s outreach program, so I knew they were going somewhere where they could administer his chemo and that trained nurses would be there if anything went wrong. The fact that they have the ReKindle Clinic on site – I knew Marshall would be safe. And best of all, he got to be a normal kid and have fun.

Something surreal happens when your child has cancer. They mature and have resiliency in ways you’re oblivious to pre-diagnosis. Sam, one of the SunRise coordinators, is a survivor of childhood cancer. Marshall came home one day and said “Mom, do you know why Penguin has one leg?” (I should mention Sam’s camp name is ‘Penguin.’) He continued, “It’s because she had cancer in her leg. I don’t have cancer in my leg. I have it in my blood.” It was so powerful for him to connect with someone and understand that he isn’t alone. It’s unreal to watch kids on treatment pull up their shirts to show each other their ports. And to see other kids with no hair has been so important for Marshall’s confidence.

There’s so much more to Kids Cancer Care than just camp. We’ve been to Hitmen games as a family and to Parent Programs, where we can build relationships with other parents, who get what we’re going through. When you are on treatment, you are so concerned about taking your child anywhere – to playdates, the movies and activities – in case they are exposed to germs. But when you get the email from Kids Cancer Care that says, “Please come to our Halloween Party,” you know that they will make sure everyone is cold- and flu-free and that your child will be safe and protected.

The PEER program has also been a large part of our journey. It’s an exercise program to help kids regain their strength during and after treatment. As soon as Marshall sees the gym, he lights up. The volunteers and staff are so welcoming. Everyone at Kids Cancer Care has become such a huge part of our journey.

Treatment wrapped up just a couple weeks ago, on May the 4^th. It was so fitting, as Marshall is a big Star Wars fan and May 4^th is Star Wars Day: May the Fourth Be With You.  For his last day of chemo, he had gathered a ton of toys and goodies to put in the Treasure Box at the hospital that kids get to pick from after a treatment. In April, he had noticed the items getting low and suggested we fill it up for his last chemo. I continue to be overwhelmed and amazed by the spirit of my son. He also walked around and handed out cupcakes to everyone. We have seen so many kids on their last day of treatment, it was almost surreal knowing it was finally our turn.

Saturday May 27th, 2017 is a special day for all of us. Our family and friends are going to celebrate Marshall with a special party. But we also wanted to thank all the people who have stuck by us during this journey. A bunch of our friends gathered some items to raffle or auction off and wanted to make the event a fundraiser for our family. But we decided to make the event a fundraiser for Kids Cancer Care and the other organizations that have supported our family on this journey.

We know we will be looking to Kids Cancer Care for years to come – with possible tutoring, rehabilitation through PEER, camp and outreach programs and one day, a Derek Wandzura Memorial Scholarship for Marshall to pursue his dreams. There’s nothing I want more than my kids to become volunteers at camp so they can be there for kids affected by this disease in the future.

People often ask us: “Now that treatment is coming to an end, do you still get to go to camp?” We answer, “Of course! We will always be a part of the Kids Cancer Care family!” And, I cannot imagine a better family to be a part of. We couldn’t have gotten through this without them.

Thank you to all the volunteers, staff and donors. – Joleen Teske

“You get involved with something that sounds good, but you stay involved with something that’s great.”— Trevor Winkler, Regional Managing Partner

When you ask Trevor Winkler about MNP’s long-standing partnership with Kids Cancer Care through Parents’ Quest for the Cure, his response is unequivocal: “It’s a fantastic event and it’s such an important cause. Learning about the research we’re supporting and seeing the kids — how it impacts the kids and their families — is deeply rewarding for our company.”

Recognized as one of Canada’s 50 Best Employers every year since 2009, MNP is a leading national chartered accountancy and business advisory firm in Canada. With about 4,000 employees working in offices across the country – from Vancouver to a newly opened office in Halifax – it’s clear that MNP is a leader in their industry and achieving growth. With values including integrity and respect guiding the way, MNP has been serving clients in the public, private and not-for-profit sectors for more than 60 years. Clearly, MNP’s client-focused approach to business is standing the test of time.

“We are a client service focused firm,” says Trevor Winkler, the Regional Managing Partner of MNP Calgary. “By investing time and resources into fully understanding the client’s business and industry, we’re able to provide deeper insights and tailored strategies for them. It’s about building a long-term outlook and relationships that grows over time. If we consistently do good work, we grow too.”

MNP takes a similar interest in and approach to community investment. As presenting sponsor of Parents’ Quest for the Cure for the past eight years, MNP is definitely bringing a long-term outlook to its relationship with Kids Cancer Care.

“Now, more than ever, it’s important to support charities and give back to the community,” says MNP Partner Jason Kingshott regarding Alberta’s current economic climate. “Supporting children with cancer and the research to help find cures for cancer is such an important cause; Kids Cancer Care is doing excellent work. We’re proud of our partnership and hope to be involved for a long time to come.”

The relationship began in 2009 when Ted Poppitt, former Senior Vice President of Client Service at MNP, brought the company on as presenting sponsor of the gala. Since that time, the relationship has grown and MNP has become increasingly involved with the foundation, participating in the Ride for a Lifetime and the Don, Joanne and the Coach Golf a Kid to Camp tournament.

“MNP’s involvement has definitely grown over the years,” says Christine McIver, Founder and Chief Executive Officer of Kids Cancer Care, “but it’s Parents’ Quest for the Cure that has permanently stolen a place in their hearts. We’re so grateful for their continued support.”

For Jason, who served on the gala sponsorship committee, the partnership is a win-win for both organizations: “It’s an extraordinary gala and our clients love it. We’re fortunate to have such a fantastic relationship with Kids Cancer Care.”

MNP’s partnership with Kids Cancer Care is paying dividends for families of children with cancer. As presenting sponsor of the gala, MNP has invested more than $200,000 in pediatric cancer research, from basic research in the lab to psychosocial research investigating the less visible side of the disease.

MNP’s support for Parents’ Quest has played a vital role in helping to build the Experimental and Applied Therapeutics (ExpAT) research program at the University of Calgary and Alberta Children’s Hospital, where researchers are identifying and developing new, targeted therapies for children with high-risk cancers.

With MNP’s support, Kids Cancer Care also established the Kids Cancer Care Chair in Child and Family Cancer Care at the University of Calgary Faculty of Nursing, where researchers are exploring the social, emotional and financial impact of childhood cancer on children, families and the health care system.

Reflecting on MNP’s initial and ongoing decision to sponsor the gala, Trevor aptly sums it up: “You get involved in something that sounds good, but you stay involved with something that’s great. It’s a great event and we’re looking forward to being there for many years to come.”

Hello out there, we’re on the air, it’s ‘Hockey Night’ tonight.
Tension grows, the whistle blows, and the puck goes down the ice.
The goalie jumps, and the players bump, and the fans all go insane.
Someone roars, “Bobby Scores!” at the good ol’ Hockey Game.

Bobby Orr, Wayne Gretzky, Gordie Howe, Haley Wickenheiser, Jarome Iginla. Idolized by fans, their stats are etched in the minds of those who love the game and their names are stitched across the backs of well-loved jerseys by those who cheer their names.

At Kids Cancer Care, we know of a special kind of hero from the good ol’ hockey game – one that makes an impact on AND off the ice. These hockey heroes aren’t just players, they are coaches, hockey moms and dads, friends, schoolmates, principals, administrative staff. And they are changing the course of childhood cancer.

Our community hockey partners are exceptional. They raise funds for Camp Kindle, for research, for outreach programs, for hospital programs, scholarships and PlayStations (we’ll get to that).

But, we figure the best way to tell you about these hockey legends is to run down the stats for you.

Northwest Calgary Athletic Association
Team:           NCAA Midget AAA Flames
City:             Calgary, AB
Motivation:   Friend Joel Zukowski, who lost his battle in 2015

Highlights:
– Teammates shoveled sidewalks, collected bottles, reached out to friends and family to raise money for Kids Cancer Care.
– Many of the players shaved their heads on CTV Morning Live, extending a brave show of support for the children who lose their hair to chemotherapy.
– Raised over $44,000—enough to send 29 children affected by cancer to Camp Kindle.

The Hockey Heroes fundraiser in honour of team member Tyler Oakenfold’s best friend Joel Zukowski. Joel passed away in October 2015 at the age of 16 after a courageous seven-year battle with brain cancer. He was a quiet, gentle soul who touched countless lives through his kindness and wisdom. Joel and Tyler first met in pre-school at the age of four. The boys shared a love of hockey, playing shinny on the homemade rink in Tyler’s backyard.

The 20 players on Tyler’s hockey team, the Northwest Calgary Athletic Association Midget AAA Flames, vowed to raise $30,000 to send kids affected by cancer to Kids Cancer Care’s Camp Kindle, where Joel had spent much time. They raised $14,000 more than their goal and they are back at it again in 2017. This year, they are hoping to expand the amount of teams and players involved. It all started with the love of the game and a dear friend.

Simons Valley Hockey Association
Team:           Simon Valley Storm
City:             Calgary, AB
Motivation:   Player Alec Remenda who lost his battle in 2016

Highlights:
– Alec was a member of the team and the fundraiser was started to show support for his family.  Today, the hockey fundraiser continues in his memory.
– Passionate about hockey and video games, Alec inspired fundraising for new PlayStations for unit one at the hospital, as a distraction for kids during treatment. Thanks to Alec, kids can continue to play their favourite sports virtually, while they are in the hospital.
– In the past two years, this team has raised close to $100,000 for Kids Cancer Care

Only days after celebrating his 13th birthday, Alec Remenda was diagnosed with Ewing sarcoma, a rare type of cancer in which rapidly growing tumours are found in the bone or in soft tissue. Alec was known for his love of hockey and he was passionate about playing for the Simon Valley Hockey Association. While his treatment made it so he couldn’t play, he remained an important part of his team. That’s why they started the Stick It to Cancer charity hockey tournament.

Sadly, after years of extensive chemotherapy and radiation treatment, Alec passed away in July of 2016. His team has vowed to continue fundraising in his honour. This year will be the third annual event.

Mac’s Midget AAA World Invitational Tournament
Team:           Various teams, volunteers and teen leaders
City:             Calgary, AB
Motivation:   Kids Cancer Care’s Teen Leadership Program

Highlights:
– Our name appears on volunteer jerseys, the ice and in the program. A great way to raise awareness about Kids Cancer Care, the tournament draws as many as 100,000 spectators over seven days!
– Kids Cancer Care volunteers and teen leaders sell 50/50 tickets with the proceeds coming back to our programs.

The Mac’s Midget AAA World Invitational Tournament is a prestigious ice hockey tournament held annually from December 26 to January 1. The tournament features 25 male and 15 female teams from across North America and Europe. It draws large crowds and raises a ton of money for our Teen Leadership Program, where patients, survivors, siblings and bereaved siblings enjoy opportunities to develop as leaders through self-reflection, peer support, skill building, volunteerism and a service trip.

The Calgary Flames Foundation and The Calgary Hitmen Foundation
Teams:           The Calgary Flames and The Calgary Hitmen
City:               Calgary, AB
Motivation:     Kids across the province affected by cancer

Highlights:
– They have given over $1.2 million dollars to Kids Cancer Care, including a sizeable donation to help us realise our dream of owning and operating our own camp.
–  Number 11, Mikael Backlund, is our Flames champion. He picked us as his charity of choice, and invites our families to a game each year and supports us year round.

Through annual fundraising events such as the Flames poker and golf tournaments and the Flames 50-50 raffles we thank our supporters. Through annual fundraising events such as the Flames poker and golf tournaments and the Flames 50-50 raffles we thank our supporters.The Calgary Hitmen and Calgary Flames are ideal partners. Not only have they been a part of creating memorable experiences for kids affected by cancer by supporting our programs and camps financially, but they also provide tickets to games, along with meet and greets with the players. These games are a light in an otherwise dark cancer journey.

In 2009, after 20 years of having to beg, borrow and rent space to send children with cancer to camp, Kids Cancer Care purchased its own camp. We called it Camp Kindle because, for hundreds of Alberta children and families facing cancer, it would be a place where childhoods, interrupted by cancer, could be rekindled. We needed funds to purchase the camp and carry out the necessary upgrades and renovations to make it suitable for children with cancer. The Flames Foundation for Life was there for us when we needed their support the most. With a donation of $1,000,000 they helped us fulfill our dream. In July 2012, after undergoing more than $12 million in renovations, Camp Kindle re-opened to Alberta children affected by cancer and their families.

From midgets to the pros, Kids Cancer Care is honoured to have such great support from our hockey community in Alberta. And now, supporting us is even easier. We recently launched online Community Fudnraising pages to make your fundraising campaigns even easier. To learn more, click here.

Thank you to all our hockey partners for their dedication to changing the course of childhood cancer.

Oh! The good old hockey game,
Is the best game you can name;
And the best game you can name,
Is the good old Hockey game!

“Trade your expectation with appreciation and the world changes instantly.” ~ Tony Robbins

If you ask Patti Foulon if life is good, she’ll respond with a resounding yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s always been easy.

Patti was 24 and only two years into her marriage with Bob when he was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour. Four years later, Bob was gone and, at age 28, Patti was facing life as a widow. At the same time, Patti’s mother was also diagnosed with cancer. Unlike Bob, Margaret lived to beat cancer twice and passed away a few years ago at the age of 83.

“Mom lived a good long life,” says Patti, “but Bob, he was too young to die. You know what they say though, out of some bad, comes some good. Bob taught me how to be strong for other families facing cancer. There’s been a lot of cancer in my family and that’s what fuels my passion for Kids Cancer Care.”

A veteran volunteer of 15 years and a monthly donor for the past five, Patti is passionate about Kids Cancer Care. “I’ve volunteered for a lot of organizations in my life and Kids Cancer Care is by far and wide the best organization I have ever volunteered for,” she says. “That’s why my partner Gary and I became monthly donors; we know what Kids Cancer Care does for families.”

After Bob passed away, Patti travelled to New Zealand and Australia for a stint but she was forced to end the trip early when she had a seizure. Although the seizure turned out to be a one-off occurrence that would never happen again, Patti was shaken by the experience. “Bob’s first symptom before diagnosis was a seizure,” she says. “I was sure I had a brain tumour.”

Patti flew home and resumed life in Calgary. Unwell and unable to work, Patti decided to direct her sorrow into something positive. She took a volunteer position at Ronald McDonald House and soon discovered a special place in her heart for the cancer families there. Over the years, Patti formed deep, lasting relationships with these families. “There’s something about sharing that kind of experience and intimacy together that creates an intense bond. We still get together regularly.”

It wasn’t long before Patti brought her passion and gifts to Kids Cancer Care. For seven years, she was a volunteer camp counsellor and one-to-one aide at camp. Recently, she joined Keith Shepherd’s volunteer BBQ crew at Camp Kindle on Ice Cream Fridays.

“Patti is an amazing volunteer,” says Megan Gough of Kids Cancer Care. “She’s at every event and donates to our auctions. She lives out of the city, so when she volunteers at Dad and Daughter, she actually pays for a hotel room to do it. She is the perfect volunteer and champion. We are so fortunate to have her.”

But if you ask Patti she says, “I’m the lucky one. Volunteering for these families gave me my sanity. I learn more and get way more from the kids than I’ve ever given to them.”

Patti remembers the days before Camp Kindle when Kids Cancer Care rented space at another camp facility to send children to camp. One summer, she was volunteering as a one-to-one aide for a little girl named Hayley whose prognosis was poor and who had lost a lot of mobility due to her brain tumour. Against her better judgement, but beyond her control as a volunteer, Patti found herself on an out-trip with Hayley and a handful of other campers and volunteers on a particularly stormy evening.

“I didn’t want to go out in the night with those kids in all that rain and mud,” Patti recalls. “But Hayley and the other kids really wanted to go. The counsellor from Kids Cancer Care had taken a sick child into the city, to the hospital, so she wasn’t there to intervene. I was angry and complaining a lot. Here I was with these kids, packing pillows and sleeping bags up and down these muddy slopes in the rain. Some of the kids were immune-compromised and I was stressed and worried.”

At the tent, settling in for the night, Patti continued to complain. “We were soaking wet, our sleeping bags were soaking wet and I went on grumbling. Finally Hayley got up in my face, so close our noses were almost touching, and said, ‘Would you please stop complaining? I really want to do this and I may never get to do it again.’ Boy, did she shut me up. A dying child telling me to stop complaining.”

Hayley was right. It would be her last out-trip and her last camp experience. She died later that year.

That wasn’t the only lesson the little girl had for Patti that summer. “Hayley and I were doing arts and crafts together, painting pictures onto small tiles for a mosaic,” recalls Patti. “She was quite a gifted little artist and I have no skill in that area at all. When I told her, ‘I just can’t do it like you Hayley,’ she said, ‘Now we’re going to sit here and draw until you draw a decent lady bug.’”

Patti’s ladybug, inspired by Hayley’s tenacity, still lives on the colourful mosaic at Kids Cancer Care today. A gawky little critter, the ladybug with its childlike simplicity still causes Patti embarrassment when she sees it.

So what lesson did the ladybug bring? Perseverance? Tenacity? Better times are coming? Perhaps Patti’s lesson was to recognize herself in that little red bug with the lively polka dots. In many spiritual traditions, the ladybug is a symbol for Lady-Luck, bringing luck and abundance where ever she goes. She points to happier, better times to come. Some say the ladybug represents love. If that was the lesson, then Patti fully embraced it and still lives it each day.

“Every day is a gift. I feel blessed to give to these families and to be part of Kids Cancer Care,” she says. “Family comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes and I consider Kids Cancer Care family.”

Patti credits these gifts to Bob’s cancer journey. “It totally shaped who I am today. He is why I can be strong for families today,” she says. “He made it so easy for me. He didn’t complain or feel sorry for himself. He wanted to live life and we did. We travelled a lot. I had a gift — I had him for four years. We had four great years together after his diagnosis and most of those years were wonderful. It was only the last six months that were hard.”

When Bob found out he was dying, he immediately retired from his dental practice and went out and purchased a lot to build a women’s clothing store for Patti. “I said, ‘What am I going to do with a clothing store? I don’t need that.’ And he said, ‘You never know, you might need a distraction when I’m gone.’”

Like Hayley, Bob was right. The clothing store provided Patti with a welcome distraction after he passed. When she later sold it, the store provided her with a means to travel. Bob was right on another occasion too. “During his cancer journey, he told me, ‘Better things are gonna’ come for you.’”

If the ladybug does foretell of better times to come, maybe Bob and Hayley, each in their own way, pointed Patti toward a new life, a new beginning, a life of service and giving to others. Call it strange coincidence or wonderful synchronicity that these disparate pieces should come together in Patti’s volunteer work at Camp Kindle — a magical place represented by the Kindle Bug or Love Bug as some call it.

“I feel like I have a lot to give these families because I’ve been through a lot myself,” she says. “And, as long as I am able, I will give to Kids Cancer Care. I’ll be giving until I die and, even after I die, because I’ve also left something in my will for Kids Cancer Care. I never had children of my own, so these kids, children with cancer, became my kids, and the legacy I leave will be for them.”