This June we celebrated an incredible group of young adults as we awarded them Derek Wandzura Memorial Scholarship. This year, we awarded the largest dollar amount to each individual to date. This is the 16th year of this scholarship and with this year’s recipients, we have awarded over $468,000 in scholarships to 218 deserving young people.

Over the past 16 years, we have seen the scholarship fund grow and impact many lives. This endowed fund, administered by the Calgary Foundation, is at over $1 million today! It will be here for future generations and is meant to help level the playing field for childhood cancer survivors. Pediatric cancer leaves its mark through a litany of physical, emotional, cognitive, and psychosocial late effects. This scholarship is our way of showing that we believe in each childhood cancer survivor and want to help give them the best start as they take the next step in their life.

Here are our 2024 scholarship recipients.

Zoe McCoy

Diagnosed with bilateral Wilms tumor, Zoe McCoy found solace in drawing, reading and writing, diving deep into books that allowed her to experience adventure. Being creative was and remains her escape today when she is not working toward her goals. As she grew older, Zoe fell in love with public speaking and justice. Going into her second year of political science at the University of Calgary, Zoe hopes to become a lawyer one day. She wants to represent and empower underprivileged people.

Jada Biso

Jada Biso didn’t learn that she was a cancer survivor until she was around 7 or 8 years old, having been diagnosed with stage 4 neuroblastoma at such a young age. Growing resilient from the impact that cancer adds to one’s identity, she had so many positive experiences that came from Kids Cancer Care. Being a part of the Kids Cancer Care community for 10 years, she believes the organization has helped shape her into the woman she is today. Attending Camp Kindle, being an active member of the Teen Leadership Program, and now working as a camp counsellor at Camp Kindle, Jada has come full circle as an active member in this community. She has learned that being a good leader provides others with opportunities to be a leader themselves. Jada has a goal of studying social work or youth care, taking her leadership skills and her desire to inspire others to be leaders themselves.

Keira Neal

Keira Neal was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma at age 1. After beating the cancer with only a 20% chance of survival, adapting to a prosthetic leg, and relearning to walk and run over and over again, Kiera still managed to fill her life with activity with soccer, ice hockey, mountain biking, downhill skiing, gymnastics, and attending Camp Kindle for several summers. At the same time, Keira has been an avid public speaker, sharing her story as a keynote speaker at the Winnipeg Health and Wellness Expo hosted by McFadden Benefits and at the University of Calgary Cumming School of Medicine. She has served as an ambassador with the Alberta Children’s Hospital for over 15 years, and even spoke at the Pyeong Chang Paralympics in South Korea, raising awareness and hope for those with disabilities. Alongside her volunteer work, Keira is a student athlete who has maintained honours and plans to attend the University of Victoria School of Business with the hopes of pursing law later in her educational career.

Nathan Chroney

Nathan Chorney was diagnosed with medulloblastoma at the age of 10. Now at 21, he is looking forward to setting out on his career path. With an interest in IT and gaming, Nathan hopes to attend an in-person IT Support Specialist Certificate Program through Momentum. He believes the program will serve as a stepping stone to explore potential jobs in cybersecurity, systems administration, etc. The possibilities are endless. Nathan’s hope is to build a rewarding and fulfilling career in IT.

Evan Arora

Evan Arora opened his essay with a quote from Aristotle, saying, “we may jointly strive for the greater good of our planet and the people who live in it via civic involvement.” Civic involvement is clearly important to Evan given the volunteer work he does in his community. After being diagnosed with leukemia in 2019, Evan has taken every opportunity to volunteer wherever he can in the hopes of having a positive influence on others. He has taken on tutor roles through the Calgary Public Library, helping individuals in computer programming and basic reading, and volunteering as a reading buddy. We have no doubt you will bring great things to others affected by childhood cancer. Evan will be taking his knowledge and positive outlook on life, to pursue a Bachelor of Engineering while continuing to impact others through his many volunteer roles.

Sophia Majko

When Sophia was diagnosed with Ewing sarcoma, her life consisted of growing up in the hospital. The highlights came from time spent with her sister, keeping her company and bringing familiarity and a sense of safety. Growing up in the hospital, along with a passion for innovation and problem solving in classes such as math and chemistry, shaped Sophia and her educational goals for the future. Sophia witnessed the power of medical advancements and the dedication of doctors, which fueled her passion for engineering. She wants to contribute to this by developing innovative treatments, tools or machines, offering the gift of life she herself received. She hopes to do this in a Bachelor’s of Science and/or Engineering.

Giselle Pimienta

Giselle Pimienta says that having Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis helped her meet incredible people and create fond memories that still sustain her today. It also ignited positive traits such as perseverance, positive attitude, a loving and caring nature and hope in humanity. Giselle was part of the Kids Cancer Care’s Leadership Development Program at Camp Kindle in 2022 and 2023. This leadership program gave her the opportunity to lead camper groups at camp and ignited in her a desire to pursue a 5-year dual-major in Education and Spanish. Her goal is to become a teacher who instills the qualities she has learned at camp and seen in others. Giselle aims to change lives through her volunteer work with AIESEC, an organization that focuses on empowering young people to make a progressive social impact.

Alyssa Wolfram

Growing up on a farm and being a young woman interested in the trades, Alyssa Wolfram has always had a get-it-done attitude. Diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma in middle school, followed by a relapse last year, Alyssa brought her winning attitude to her physical health and academics. She held fast to her goal of finishing high school on a strong note, doing her utmost to not miss school while actively receiving radiation and chemotherapy. From a young age, Alyssa has loved working on vehicles. She’s planning to attend Lethbridge College to pursue a career as a heavy-duty mechanic. It’s so wonderful to see a strong, confident young woman step into a profession traditionally reserved for men.

A heartfelt congratulations to all our outstanding scholarship recipients, you have earned it! We can’t wait to see what you do in the next chapters of your lives and from everyone here at Kids Cancer Care GOOD LUCK!

When Amber’s youngest son Michael asked, “When will I get my cancer Mom?” she knew their household was anything but normal.

Michael was only two when his big brother Luca was diagnosed with brain cancer. Michael didn’t know anything else; he figured everyone got cancer and his time was coming. Their older sister Natalia was six and she understood more, but seeing Luca, her best friend, battle cancer and its lasting fallout was tough on her. 

A child’s cancer will do that to a family. It disrupts childhoods and turns lives upside down. In Luca’s case, cancer just kept taking. Thank goodness you were here, helping Luca and his family rebuild their lives during their cancer journey and beyond.

As a toddler, Luca showed signs of exceptional intelligence. He started speaking early and acquired a massive vocabulary. Luca’s doctor was sure he was gifted, which floored his mother Amber, “He’s only eight months old, how can you possibly know that?”

While the other kids were playing outdoors, two-year-old Luca spent hours at the computer, exploring sites on volcanoes. By age four, he was asking his mother about university. Eventually, Luca’s parents Amber and Ernesto enrolled Luca in a school for gifted children.

Then everything changed.

A diagnosis that changed everything

After months of dizziness, nausea and weight loss, Luca was diagnosed with anaplastic medulloblastoma, a highly aggressive brain cancer.  

Following an eight-hour brain surgery, which didn’t go well, “Luca spent the next week in intensive care in a kind of pain I didn’t even know existed,” says Amber.

He endured six rounds of high-dose chemotherapy, interspersed with three stem cell transplants, which also required high-dose chemo.

Stem cell transplants are high-risk procedures that demand extreme isolation and round-the-clock care. It is a major commitment for the family. Destroying cancer cells with high-dose chemo, a stem cell transplant essentially takes the child right up to death’s door before rebuilding with healthy cells. Luca had three stem cell transplants.

Shortly after his last chemo treatment, Luca relapsed and he would go through it all over again. This time, the family flew to Houston, Texas where Luca received proton radiation at the MD Anderson Cancer Center.
The hope was that the proton therapy would be less damaging to his brain.

By the time he finished the second protocol, Luca’s little body was completely spent.

Your gifts can help kids survive and thrive — in body, mind and spirit

through exercise therapy

With your generosity, Luca was able to attend our PEER exercise program to regain his energy and rebuild his strength and balance. To this day, he still fatigues easily, but “Exercise helps,” says Amber. “PEER was instrumental in getting him back to school and normal again.”

Although Luca’s treatments finished over a decade ago, his cancer journey is far from over.

“Just as we figure out a problem, a new one, or a few more, pop up,” says Amber. “We still see specialists every three months. I don’t think we’ll ever graduate to annual follow-ups because his health is just too complicated.”

through tutoring

One day, Amber received a call from the school telling her that Luca was experiencing double vision. A visit to the doctor, revealed that Luca was experiencing a brain bleed due to a condition called cavernoma. Also known as cerebral cavernous malformations, the condition involves abnormal clusters of small blood vessels in the brain or spinal cord that create wide caverns of slow-flowing blood.

Symptoms of cavernoma can range from headaches to seizures to paralysis, or balance, vision, speech, and memory problems. Luca has 20 of these caverns, which caused double vision and a serious brain bleed that required surgery. A severe brain bleed can cause stroke. The caverns grow and change over time, so there is nothing they can do to treat it.

While Amber and Ernesto tried to give Luca the best possible outcome by going to MD Anderson for proton therapy, it damaged his brain. Luca now has acquired ADHD and has complex learning issues. He requires constant cuing and requires a full-time aide at school.

“He went from being gifted and ahead of his peers to falling behind,” says Amber.

Thanks to your generosity, Luca receives support from a tutor who understands cancer-related learning challenges. “He loves Mackenzie,” says Amber. “I can hear him laughing and having fun during their sessions. It’s helped reduce my stress and I didn’t have to educate Mackenzie about all his late effects because Kids Cancer Care does that.”

through camp

The gap between Luca and his peers grows wider each year and he sees it. He requires constant care and will never be able to live independently.

After six years of daily growth hormone injections, Luca recently learned that his growth plates have fused, and he has stopped growing. He will be five feet forever. His hair never grew in completely and he’s had double cataract surgery.

Natalia and Michael both help with Luca’s care. “They have grown into such caring and compassionate people,” says Amber.

Still, they’re only kids themselves and sometimes they need a break too. Thanks to your support, Luca and his siblings get a break each summer at Camp Kindle.

“I have found lifelong friendships with people who truly understand me, and what my family has been through,” says Natalia. “We are so lucky to have a place to leave our stories and create new ones, away from the hospital.”

Michael agrees: “This camp is a big part of my life, through the friends I make every year, or the things I do every year. Camp really helps my brother Luca in so many ways. When I watch him trying new things, and making friends, it puts a smile on my face and a very big smile on his. I’m so, so thankful for what camp has helped him with. It has helped him bring out his real self.”  

As the Stamile kids suggest, camp isn’t only about fun and adventure. It helps kids affected by cancer build skills, friendships, and resilience essential to their mental and physical well-being.

Childhood cancer survivors are 57% more likely to struggle with depression and 27% more likely to struggle with anxiety.* Luca is no exception. He’s been diagnosed with PTSD and struggles with depression and anxiety.

Being at camp, seeing old friends, making new friends, and simply enjoying a sweet slice of normal helps all the Stamile kids.

“I love camp,“ says Luca. “I love everything about it, the activities, the friendships, the counsellors. My dream is to be a camp counsellor one day.”

* Lee, A., Low, C., Yau, C. et. al. (2023, June 22). “Lifetime Burden of Psychological Symptoms, Disorders, and Suicide Due to Cancer in Childhood, Adolescent and Young Adult Years: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis.” JAMA Pediatrics. https://jamanetwork.com/.

As a six-year-old boy, I had no idea of the severity and the stresses of childhood cancer. I believe I had a very skewed and sheltered perception of the reality of it. However, my childhood was nowhere near normal. 

My sister Sofia was diagnosed with medulloblastoma, a type of brain cancer, when she was four years old. I was then six and in the middle of kindergarten. One of my earliest memories related to Sofia’s cancer was when she was at a soccer game. She fell and threw up violently. She didn’t stop for hours, and I could tell my parents were getting extremely worried. I can vaguely remember their nervous and stressed faces throughout the rest of the day and night. I remember that my dad thought it was a virus or infection, but my mom had a sinking, a gut feeling that it was something more. They ended up taking Sofia for an MRI, and after that, everything changed. From the perspective of a six-year-old, I had no understanding of the gravity of the situation, but still felt the impacts of all that was going on.

When I first saw Sofia in the hospital, she was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was a blur of beeps, doctors, and tubes. I saw Sofia lying motionless in bed, and it kind of reminded me of the hospital scene from the movie E.T. I was appalled and didn’t know what to think. One of the most surprising things about Sofia was all the tubes and drains connected to her body. I remember my mom ‘feeding’ her through an NG tube, which I didn’t understand. I remember thinking, “Why can’t she just eat normally, and what is the purpose of the tube in her nose?”

Sofia also had a tube connected to her chest, which caused her pain. Mom would inject some sort of medicine through this, and even after the tube was taken out, there was a huge scar, which she still has to this day.

Next, Sofia underwent surgery to have the tumour removed. After the surgery, the doctors diagnosed her with something called posterior fossa syndrome. This resulted in her being unable to move, see, or function in any way. This was shocking as in my mind other children who had surgeries came out just fine. My parents were in disbelief and were confused as to why this had happened. 

During Sofia’s treatment, we started to invest in physiotherapy and speech therapy. I vividly remember the therapists teaching Sofia basic speaking skills and basic vocabulary. I was confused as to why she had to relearn all these basic skills. In addition to this, she was always in a wheelchair, not being able to walk at all. The physiotherapists tried to help, but it was months before she could even walk with assistance. Sofia also had no hair, which was a result of the chemotherapy, and now as a seven-year-old, I found this so different from how I knew her. 

After Sofia’s surgery, our home life changed so much. I would often wake up in the morning as a kid, to see my grandma waiting for me downstairs. She would tell me that my parents had gone to the hospital with Sofia again in the middle of the night. I would sometimes get frustrated that they were never around, and would always rely on friends, uncles, aunts, and others to look after me and drive me places. My parents tried their best to give me a normal childhood with sports and extracurricular activities, but it was extremely difficult and a huge challenge. They would constantly be at appointments or meetings for Sofia, all while managing their own jobs. In fact, it was too stressful that my mom had to take some time off work, so she could be with Sofia. I can only imagine the impact it had on my parents back then.

In the winter of grade 1, my parents announced that our family was going to go to Houston, Texas for a couple of months. This was because the chemotherapy was unsuccessful, and Sofia needed brain radiation to be completely rid of the cancer. My parents made it seem like a Christmas vacation and got me really excited for it. However, when we got there, it was the same as Calgary. Waking up to one parent with Sofia gone, staying in hospital waiting rooms for hours, and an overall sense of loneliness was ever-present. I remember waking up at 10 am and having to play by myself quietly because my parents and Sofia were asleep until 2 pm, as they were at the hospital late the night before.

I did make friends with some of Sofia’s doctors, and they were extremely kind and thoughtful. One of the doctors would always give me new puzzles to solve and talked with me every day. This went on for about a month; however, my parents then told me I was going back to Calgary for school. I was under the impression we would all go back together, but my mom, Sofia, and Sonya, who was only two at the time, were going to stay behind to complete the radiation. In all, I spent two more months in Calgary while the others were in Texas, and I was still confused as to why they didn’t come home. I remember celebrating my birthday in January, with only my dad, and FaceTiming my mom and sisters. I was overjoyed when they finally came home, but Sofia wasn’t the same. It felt like all the progress with speech and coordination she had built up over the past year was thrown out the window. It was like starting from zero again. 

After the radiation was finally completed, and Sofia was deemed cancer free, there was a stage of pure celebration and pure joy. However, the true effects were slowly starting to appear, and it was a very difficult life, and nowhere near back to normal. Although Sofia was cancer free, the treatment had permanently damaged her brain, and so her struggles with speech and coordination were still present. She did physio every day, and we hired numerous therapists throughout the following years. She is still practicing to this day and is still working so hard at physio, speech, occupational therapy, and with her psychologist.

Sofia also received additional support through Kids Cancer Care’s therapeutic exercise program PEER. Kids Cancer Care has a Ph.D. exercise specialist who worked with researchers at the University of Calgary Wellness Lab and health care professionals at the Alberta Children’s Hospital to develop this exercise program especially for kids affected by cancer. It helps patients and survivors manage the immediate and long-term side effects of cancer treatments. Both Sofia and Sonya go twice a week and they love it because they get to have fun being active together, while socializing with other kids affected by cancer.

In terms of schooling, Sofia was supposed to go to school with me; however, as a result of her treatment, she had to attend Gordon Townsend School at the Alberta Children’s Hospital. It would have been impossible for her to attend a normal public school due to all the support she needed and because her immune system was so compromised by the chemo. From my point of view, I was disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to attend the same school as me and I didn’t understand that there was no way to make it to work. 

In addition to all these things, lots of the initial support received during her treatment time began to change. In the beginning, there were always people around and in my house: friends, family, neighbours, with many dropping off meals and toys for me and my sisters, etc. (which was extremely helpful and appreciated). As a child, it likely helped to shelter me from the horrible reality of what was happening with Sofia. However, after her treatment, things changed and there wasn’t that same flurry of people around. For me, it was like people believed that everything was now all of a sudden better because she was cancer free…but that was far from the truth.

We did however find new ways to gain support, and one of the biggest ones was through Kids Cancer Care. The community of people there were relatable and considerate and helped my sisters and me create so many new memories. My first year at Camp Kindle was an amazing experience. I also remember things like going on the Polar Express, meeting the Flames Hockey team, and skiing at Canada Olympic Park with Kids Cancer Care. This year, I have joined the Teen Leadership Program and I am looking forward to the opportunities this program offers. Overall, the Kids Cancer Care community helped me feel like I belong, and also made Sofia and Sonya feel welcomed and happy as well.

Now, eight years since the original diagnosis, great progress has been made, and I am extremely proud of all the work Sofia has put in to get where she is today. However, there are some things that will never be the same again. She will most likely always have hearing, cognitive and balance challenges, she won’t grow much hair at all, and she may not gain much height. However, we can only hope going forward that lots of progress will be made, and she will keep improving, one step at a time.

Read the poem that Shaan has written for her sister Sofia below.

My sister….

When I was two and half years old, I was busy playing dress up with her older sister Allison. I squeezed into a shirt that was way too small. When my mother finally rolled it off my arms and head, she noticed it had left little dark spots. Mom immediately booked an appointment with the pediatrician, thinking I should be eating more of those vegetables I hated and still hate today.

The appointment was scheduled for Friday afternoon, March 30, 2007 at 4:45 pm. By 5:30 pm that same day, I had my first blood draw. In less than 24 hours I was admitted to our local children’s hospital in Spokane for further testing. Five days later, they received the results. I was diagnosed with MDS (myelodysplastic syndrome) and AML (acute myeloid leukemia), both are types of blood cancers. Those little dark spots?  Petechiae. The first of many visible signs that I had cancer.

I had only one treatment option — a bone marrow transplant. We didn’t have to look far for a donor as my four-year-old sister Allison was a six out of six match. My treatment regime included total body irradiation. In my opinion, this is similar to having your entire body placed in a microwave oven. As I was too small for the machine, I was placed on a gurney against the wall with a radiation beam concentrated on her entire body. Combined with high doses of chemotherapy, this would kill all the cancer cells and all the healthy cells in my body.

I became very sick from the treatment. I had painful blisters in her mouth and throughout my GI tract, making eating nearly impossible. My skin was burnt bright red and my gorgeous blonde hair began to fall out in chunks. I was receiving blood transfusions daily and platelets every three days. I spent most of my days in isolation as her immune system was depleted, putting me at risk if I was exposed to something. The purpose of the protocol was to take my immune system to ground zero, so my body was less likely to reject the donor cells. I spent the next five months in a hospital room.

Once I was cleared to go home, I was excited to see my bedroom, toys, and dogs. I was scheduled to start pre-school in the fall of 2008. That was all put on hold when I relapsed.  I would spend my fourth birthday in the hospital, waiting for another bone marrow transplant. This hospital stay was much longer. I had more complications and a thirty per cent chance of survival.

My second transplant would be in Calgary at the Alberta Children’s Hospital with a life-saving donation of a stranger’s cord blood. At this time, my family was introduced to Kids Cancer Care. My sisters Allison and Annaka were able to attend Kids Cancer Care programs as siblings, but I was too sick. One of the first programs I attended was the Halloween Howler. It was hosted in the gym at the hospital, but I was in isolation, so the volunteers, dressed in their costumes, came to my hospital room, and waved through the window. The following summer, I attended SunRise, a weeklong day camp that included one night at the big camp. I only remember that night by a picture of myself standing on the dance floor with my blanket, watching the big kids dance.

I may look like an ordinary kid, but my 4′ 11″ stature tells another story. I had cataracts at age five and have artificial lenses. They will need to be replaced in a couple of years once I reach adulthood. The high-dose chemotherapy and total body irradiation damaged the development of my teeth, so I will need dental impants. Before I am able to have dental implants, I will need reconstructive jaw surgery, which involves taking a bone graft from my hip. I have 70 per cent lung capacity and my bones are extremely brittle. The list of my long-term side effects is endless. Some are known, while others are yet to be discovered. I will see specialists multiple times a year for the rest of my life.

Through the years I have participated in many Kids Cancer Care programs and events. I have taken part in the High Hopes Challenge at Camp Kindle, helping to raise much-needed funds for kids like me. I participate in the PEER exercise program, which helps reduce long-term side effects and makes movement fun.

I am also in the Teen Leadership Program, known as TLP. The TLP program helps teens build leadership skills while having opportunities to give back. One of my first TLP events was volunteering at Halloween Howler, the very same event I had experienced through my hospital window when I was four. I had come full circle.

All of these programs would not be possible without the support of generous donors. Thank you for your continued support.

~ Amanda

It was simply a sore throat… swollen glands…  possibly mono.  How on earth did three visits to the walk-in clinic over Christmas break and two visits to Alberta Children’s Hospital over a sore throat become cancer?  How was it our vibrant, energetic, active, healthy 13-year-old boy Ty’s blood stream was 90% cancer cells? It was acute myeloid leukemia (AML)—not a good kind of leukemia. January 19, 2009 at 1:47 pm our childhood cancer journey began.

That same evening at 8:59 pm, Ty was admitted. Our family hospital separation began. Ty’s little sister (Tanaya) and his stepdad stayed at home, while Ty and I moved into the hospital. Medical staff warned us it would be a long, difficult journey. Ty underwent the protocol for AML, where the high-dose chemo took him to the brink of death several times over the next 6 months. The intensity of the chemo destroyed his immune system, presenting an ongoing threat of infection thus keeping him mostly in isolation and with few days out of the hospital. School was attended in his hospital room, friends were estranged.

On July 31, 2009, he was discharged – cancer-free. June 4, 2010, after feeling ill, a visit to the oncology unit confirmed our worst fear – the cancer had returned. This time holding a bigger threat. Once again remission would have to be achieved and because the intense chemo did not work, a bone marrow transplant was the only option. Finding a donor would be difficult, because Ty was of mixed race (dad black – mom white) the chances of finding a 100% match were less than 5%. By God’s grace, matches were found and a dual cord blood transplant was received September 17, 2010. The transplant was successful! 

Unfortunately, in March 2011 graft vs host disease (GVHD) began attacking: skin, eyes, mouth and lungs. Everything that could go wrong seemed to. He had infection after infection bacterial and viral, fevers often, making hospital stays long and frequent. Outbreaks of the GVHD produced deep painful crevasses in his hands and feet. Two life threatening visits to the intensive care unit resulted in unanswered testing and “perplexed” doctors. During the third visit to the intensive care unit, September 10, 2012 at 4:18 am, Jesus took Ty home. Seven days later would mark two years cancer-free, after that date, the chances of relapse was next to none.

Ty shared a hope for two things:

1. First – That the gold ribbon, for the battle against childhood cancer, be as readily recognized as the pink;
2. Second – That no child would suffer the way he did. 

The few opportunities he had to raise awareness, he embraced with passion. Speaking at a bone marrow drive, he left the audience with the challenge: “If I do this and little kids have to do it, you can do it!”

The only exposure Ty had with camp was in 2009 and his experience was not what I had envisioned.  Ty had been discharged from only three days prior, the expectation for change, independence and fun was just too much too soon. “Mummy,” he later told me, “we have been in a 10’ x 10’ room together for almost 8 months, you just can’t leave me like that.” He had missed the natural separation teenagers experience. Although physically he was 14, mentally he was not.

The Kids Cancer Care Foundation of Alberta holds so much more for families than just camp. Families in the unit continue to be Blessed with supper every Wednesday with fresh warm pizza. Kids cancer parents volunteer their time to serve, to encourage and to bring HOPE. Wednesday was one day of the week that I did not have to worry about dinner, one night in the week we could all eat together as a family, one night in the week… I just knew.

Ty was blessed when we received a call from Kids Cancer Care, inviting him to attend a helicopter learn and fly. We were both surprized and thrilled to learn he actually got to take over the controls and fly! He spent a day attending a PGA tournament held in Banff. The kids got instruction at the course driving range by some big-time names in golf and later personally met several of the players.

I actually am the one who has been the most involved and received the most from Kids Cancer Care.  From pizza night while in hospital to Bereaved Camp 10 years later, Kids Cancer Care has been a lifeline for me. I have received an enormous amount of support and encouragement from Kids Cancer Care over the 11 years being involved. I have attended Bereaved Camp since it started six years ago, it’s a weekend when families who have lost a child are surrounded with others who have lived the same experience. We bond, we grieve, we celebrate and we heal together. Time to Remember was put in place to celebrate our kids who have gone to Heaven. Every September for the past 7 years Kids Cancer Care invites families to join for a “Time to Remember.” They put an amazing amount of thought and energy into this special evening remembering our kids. Most recently I got involved with the foundation on my bicycle. I went from a couch potato to riding 78 km in a day, raising money for this incredible organization. 

In 2009, I became a member of a club I would wish upon no one; however, I have met the most incredible selfless people through this journey. Kids Cancer Care, which was started due to the horrific disease of childhood cancer, has become an amazing support to so many families in so many ways. 

I don’t know why God allows cancer. I especially don’t understand why He allows kids to get cancer.  However, I believe in His promises. I trust He does the best for all His children whom He loves dearly.   He blessed us with this amazing organization who give and continue to give, an organization who directly supports families affected by childhood cancer everyday—thanks to the generous supporters in our community.

2legit2quit (it’s Ty face book “about”)

Our journey began in August 2017. We picked up Jocelyn from science camp in Drumheller when we knew something was not right. After several visits to the clinic over two weeks, we noticed Jocelyn progressively getting worse. 

She was very pale and weak and just felt crappy. On August 13^th we took Jocelyn in for routine blood work, and then again on the 17^th at the walk-in clinic. We took her in one more time on the 21^st for a glucose fasting test because the doctor thought she could be diabetic. On the 25^th we met with an endocrinologist who instructed us on how to use a glucometer and was going to send us home. Our intuition kept telling us that something was wrong, so we asked the doctor if it could be something else since she did not look or feel well. 

The endocrinologist examined her one more time and advised us to take her for more blood work as she agreed that Jocelyn did not look well. We headed to the urgent care clinic where her blood count indicated she likely had leukemia. Jocelyn was transported by ambulance to the Alberta’s Children Hospital. 

Not even the emergency doctor at the children’s hospital could believe that she was cracking jokes with a hemoglobin count in the 30s!  

A few days later, our world turned upside down. Jocelyn was diagnosed with leukemia. We spent the next few weeks living at the hospital. We had to learn an entirely new vocabulary and so many new procedures. All the different chemotherapy drug names, lumbar punctures, bone marrow extracts, and surgery for the IVAD placement were overwhelming.

Even after we could go home, we had to keep learning about the different assortment of pills, instructions and clinic appointments. But we never let it stop us from fulfilling responsibilities at home and work. 

Through all the phases of treatment and the different challenges that each brought, Jocelyn always grew stronger. As she entered her interim maintenance phase over the holidays, one of the more difficult periods of her treatment, I described it to my friends as brutal and I wasn’t the one going through treatment. At the time, we would stay at the hospital for three or four nights while we waited for the four cycles of high-dose chemotherapy to clear her system before going home. 

But the relief of finally returning home sours quickly. The treatment kicks in and starts hitting hard. I was not prepared for the reality that was: Go to hospital, get treatment, come home and watch Jocelyn weaken to the point where I would wake up and check that she was still breathing. But she always stayed strong.  

In the final months before reaching our goal phase, long-term maintenance, it was difficult for Jocelyn and challenging for us. Procedural anxiety alongside mental and physical strains followed us during every visit. But achieving long-term maintenance was all we were focused on. 

As we went through each phase, Kids Cancer Care was there for us. From the Pizza Nights where volunteers would serve pizza to exhausted and emotionally drained kids and parents, to the PEER exercise program where Jocelyn could blow off some steam and rebuild her strength through exercise. 

It was wonderful to see Jocelyn laugh, have fun and push herself with people who understood. It was not easy to convince her to go, especially when we’d already been at the hospital for hours of treatment, but she was always better for it. 

They also gave Jocelyn the opportunity to go to Camp Kindle. Although she was hesitant at first, she fondly remembers her time there and would love to do it again. She even told me that ‘Maybe someday, I can become a counsellor and help kids like me.’ 

With all the emotional and mental strain from the procedures, chemotherapies, scans and medical equipment, Jocelyn’s thoughts took a dive. She wondered what would happen with her friends and family if she didn’t make it. Jocelyn was scared to voice her thoughts because everyone was counting on her to make it through. She was isolated from her friends since she had a weak immune system and didn’t know if she would ever get back to her former life. That’s a lot for a kid to carry around inside.

Kids Cancer Care programs helped her feel like a normal kid. She was able to go to summer camp where she didn’t need to worry about getting sick. She was surrounded by amazing volunteers, nurses and kids who faced similar struggles. And she no longer felt disconnected. Kids Cancer Care helped Jocelyn work through all the struggles she faced so she can return to a normal life again. She is now part of the Teen Leadership Program and continues to grow every day. 

Earlier in Jocelyn’s treatment I discovered a charity cycling event called Tour for Kids – Alberta with proceeds going to Camp Kindle.  

As a cyclist, I was shocked that I’d never heard about this event and even more shocked that I registered despite adding 25 pounds of stress eating to my frame! But this was the least I could do to support Jocelyn and other kids battling cancer. I would train and finish this 300-kilometre ride, even if it killed me. If my baby girl could endure what she had, then I could do this ride. If my bike squealed in protest, so be it! 

I know what it’s like. You’re constantly bombarded with ‘please donate’ or ‘please sponsor’ from all corners and causes, but you STILL choose to give. 

Maybe in the back of our minds there is still a lingering fear: “it could happen to me or to someone I love” and god forbid cancer ever strike the heart of your world. 

But I promise you this: if that should happen, Kids Cancer Care will be there for you and your family. 

• Omar Pricca, Jocelyn’s dad 

When I was eight years old, I began experiencing unexplainable symptoms. After consulting every dermatologist in the city, my mom thought it might be a good idea to consult an immunologist as dermatologists were not helping. After what felt like thousands of pokes, hundreds of tests and too many hospital stays to count, it was determined through genetic testing that I had a rare gene mutation called TTC7A.

As it turns out, this specific mutation was only discovered a year prior to my diagnosis. I was the oldest living individual with TTC7A at the time, so I was pretty much a guinea pig when it came to treatment. This gene mutation affected my immune system so much that it was only working at seven per cent and could essentially give out at any moment. To find out more about TTC7A and a possible course of treatment, we traveled to Montreal and met with the doctor who discovered this mutation. He was in the process of a research study to find out more about TTC7A and requested that I be part of the study. His research determined that I would need a bone marrow transplant.

Now imagine being 15 years old and being told that you would have to undergo a bone marrow transplant and that you may not survive. Definitely not something the average 15-year-old would have to worry about.

Because of the complexity of my situation, we consulted centres across North America. It just so happened that the immunologist from Texas Children’s Hospital was in Calgary for a conference and I was able to have a short consultation with him. It was then that he recommended his center for the transplant. After careful consideration and a trip to Houston to meet the doctors, we made the decision to go to Texas Children’s Hospital to undergo this journey.

By May 2015, a month after consultation in Texas, my parents and I packed up our things, said goodbye to our family and friends, and headed to Houston. We arrived on Friday, unpacked our apartment and prepared for what was sure to be a long and difficult journey.

On Sunday night, I checked into the hospital so that I could begin chemotherapy the next morning. After 32 doses of chemo spread over eight days, I was given the okay to receive my new bone marrow cells. At 3:30 a.m. on June 23, 2015, I was re-born. I was given the chance at a full life. A life without month-long hospital stays, too many pokes to count and endless medications. My donor, who I did not know at the time, gave me the ability to not worry about getting sick, to not be self-conscious in the outside world and to live a normal life.

This was not to say that my journey ended there. As a result of numerous complications, I was not allowed to eat for three months. I was connected to multiple medications around the clock and had to receive two additional donations from the donor. I remained in isolation for 15 months where I spent up to five days a week at the hospital and had to undergo multiple bone marrow biopsies.

After 15 months, we were finally able to travel home. Once back in Calgary, it was flu season, so I was still not able to go out in public. This meant I was receiving my high school education at home while my friends were in school and I was not able to attend any parties or gatherings.

Fast forward six months, I was at the Alberta Children’s Hospital undergoing my usual monthly infusion and I was told about a Teen Leadership Program that Kids Cancer Care was offering. I was finally allowed to leave isolation and became interested in meeting some people who had gone through similar experiences. I felt alone for so long, therefore it took some convincing from my ever-loving parents. But after orientation, we felt the program would be a great fit for me. I was 18 at the time so I was only able to be a part of the program for a year, but I thoroughly enjoyed the time I spent with this group. It got me out of the house, I was able to socialize with people who could understand what I had experienced, and I no longer felt like an outsider. It was normal to have lost your hair and have a port in your chest. It was normal to know all the medical terms and to be best friends with your nurses. I think what resonated with me the most was the fact that people didn’t pity me when I told my story, the way that so many had before.

I spent the year getting to know the other teens, doing fundraisers and gaining my confidence back. Throughout my treatment I lost my way to loving myself. Being around the people in this group who accepted me for me, really helped to begin the process of self-love and acceptance. Although I was not able to participate in the final trip due to medical circumstances, I can honestly say it was a program that I will remember forever.

I was also asked to be a kid coach for the High Hopes Challenge and was able to help raise money for a cause close to my heart. Having spent only a day at Camp Kindle, I got to experience only a fraction of what other youth got to do over the course of the summer. Seeing how the camp was able to let kids be kids and allow them to forget about being sick was the most amazing part. The focus on fun and normalcy was evident in the attitudes of everyone in sight.

I am proud to say that I am coming up on my fifth anniversary of my transplant and doing better than ever. I still struggle with some lingering effects of my transplant; however, I am on my way to becoming my best self. I have learned over the years that I am not alone. I have a support system and I can openly tell my story. I no longer fear of the outside world and I can proudly say that I am a transplant survivor. I will always be grateful to those who helped me along my journey to become the oldest living individual with this gene mutation. The donor who donated the bone marrow not only gave me life, but gave me a second set of DNA…. How cool is that!?

“We’ve been in isolation, social distancing, for close to a year. Now with the threat of COVID-19, we’re even more cautious. And yet, in a strange and unexpected way, this pandemic is opening up the world to Mikah in a whole new way.” ~ Lina Dupuis

It was the week of Mikah’s grade-eight final exams when she started running a fever and complaining of a heaviness in her chest. After two visits to emergency, Mikah suddenly found herself in an ambulance, speeding towards the Alberta Children’s Hospital.

“There was an entourage of medical staff waiting for us when we arrived,” recalls Mikah’s mother Lina Dupuis. “I knew in that moment it was serious.” 

That evening, on June 23, 2019, Mikah was diagnosed with high-risk acute lymphoblastic leukemia. 

While undergoing harsh cancer treatments, Mikah is also experiencing the rarest of side effects — nerve and muscle weakness and brain swelling. Unable to walk, talk and even swallow, Mikah has endured long periods of recovery and rehabilitation. 

“The hardest pill for Mikah has been missing her first year of high school,” says Lina, explaining that in their district, high school begins in grade nine. “There’s the fear and anxiety of starting high school, but there’s also the excitement and independence. Mikah is missing all of that.”

Mikah wants so badly to go to Camp Kindle too, but each time she registers, a major side effect lands her in the hospital. And, just when she was starting to feel better, our spring Teen Camp was cancelled due to COVID-19. 

Fortunately, with your support, we are building a vibrant online community to help teens like Mikah and her sister Kya in their isolation. 

Shortly after COVID-19 was declared a pandemic, our exercise specialist Dr. Carolina Chamorro Vina began exploring innovative ways to deliver her PEER exercise program online. 

With your generous support, last March, Carolina offered our first-ever online exercise program for teens. 

“This program was so good for her,” says Lina. “There was even a little boy participating from his hospital bed. He may not have been able do everything, but he could see this amazing community. No judgement. No staring. Just a big community of kids who get it.”  

Mikah and her peers are now rebuilding their strength every Tuesday and Thursday through these virtual exercise classes. They love the sense of community the program offers. 

“The research is clear,” says Carolina. “Regular exercise helps mitigate the deconditioning effects of cancer treatments and helps reduce the long-term health problems associated with cancer treatments. It also improves mental and physical well-being.”  

While acknowledging that cancer and COVID-19 have brought suffering, Lina is quick to recognize their blessings: “All of these things are opening up for Mikah now. PEER online is giving her something to look forward to every week and a community she can connect with.”   

Thank you, Calgary Flames Foundation and other generous donors, for supporting our PEER exercise program.

I’ve pulled out all the old tricks — balloon basketball, baking muffins and banana bread, basement fort-building, glow-stick baths, board games, crafts, our own little dance parties and walking in the fresh air every day.

Aria and I spent months at home with very few visitors, when she was on treatment for stage 3 hepatoblastoma — a rare liver cancer. She was 14 months old and, as a single parent working full-time, I was blessed to be able to take a leave of absence from teaching. 

Aria endured countless blood transfusions, months of chemotherapy and an eight-hour surgery to remove the tumour and 70 per cent of her liver. 

The treatments weakened her immune system, so I got into a daily routine of disinfecting our entire home, while listening to our favourite music. 

Our only outings were scheduled admissions for chemotherapy and appointments at the hospital. We passed the time doing crafts, going for drives and walks. 

Thank goodness Kids Cancer Care was there for us. I loved their weekly Pizza Nights at the hospital. It was so comforting to meet parents whose children had made it safely to the other side of cancer. Aria was beyond excited to attend their SunRise day camp. She still talks about how she rode on the school bus to go camping — at Camp Kindle. 

Fast forward to the COVID-19 crisis and the feeling is all too familiar. Aria’s immune system is still fragile. She is currently fighting an atypical presentation of mono — a rare case where the mono attacks the liver. 

We’re on protective isolation. The doctor fears her liver couldn’t take it, if she were to become infected by COVID-19.  

I’ve pulled out all the old tricks — balloon basketball, baking muffins and banana bread, basement fort-building, glow-stick baths, board games, crafts, our own little dance parties and walking in the fresh air every day. 

We are fortunate to have Kids Cancer Care in our corner again. They are supporting families in isolation by moving programs online. These days, Aria and I are enjoying their online exercise classes for tots via Facebook Live. 

After her first online class, Aria said, “Playing jump-over-the-snake and rescue-the-teddies game was so fun. It made me tired!” 

She truly loved it and especially loved how Carolina mentioned her name in class. It brought a big smile to her face.

It’s amazing to feel a part of a community, even in this time of isolation. Thank you!

~ Aria’s Mom, Stephanie Boettcher

Thank you for being there for Aria during her isolation.