RELAY FOR LIFE

If you were to ask me a year ago how I felt about cancer, I would have told you that I thought it was fascinating. As a biology and nutritional sciences student, my favourite courses were always the ones that taught me about the molecular and cellular processes that can go wrong and cause cancer. And although I had always supported charities like the Terry Fox Foundation and the Canadian Cancer Society, I honestly had never thought too much about the people and the families behind the disease. That is, until it happened to my family.

I was carpooling from Ottawa to Toronto with my mom and some work colleagues on Friday June 10, 2011, when we got the call that my dad had been brought to North York General hospital with chest pain. Still about three hours away from our destination, my mom and I tried to remain calm and composed so as not to upset the driver and the other passenger. Although I remember feeling worried, my child-like view of my father as Superman prevented me from believing that anything serious could be wrong. When we finally arrived at the hospital, I was relieved to hear that my dad’s heart was in good shape and that he simply had lymphatic fluid surrounding his lungs. After a few hugs and a brief visit, my mom and I caught a ride home with my sister, Laura, and her husband, Chris. The twenty minute ride was filled with speculation, apprehension, and Googling. However, as a scientist, I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions without first obtaining all of the necessary data.

Five days later, I was walking home from the mall after having just picked up Season 3 of Breaking Bad – a Father’s day gift for my dad, when I got a call from my mom.

“I don’t want to upset you” she said, “But the fluid surrounding in your father’s lungs was caused by a tumor... he has Lymphoma...”

I stopped walking and fell silent. In my mind, I started flipping through my course notes from PATH*3610 – Principles of Disease. I recognized that the prefix “lymph” was referring to the lymphatic system and that the suffix “oma” was referring to cancer... but, was this one of the aggressive cancers? A dictionary of biomedical terminology began coming back to me; however, I couldn’t decipher which definitions were science-based and which were derived from my subconscious’ wishful thinking. I felt numb and couldn’t process the information.

“Ok,” I replied tentatively, “I guess my Father’s day gift may be a little bit inappropriate.”

After a brief and hopeful exchange with my mom, where we assured each other that everything would be alright, I hung up the phone and continued to walk home. However, with each step I took toward my apartment, my hope dissipated as my numbness began to subside. By the time I reached my building, I was shaking. Once inside, I called my long-distance boyfriend of four years, Chris, who was living in Guelph, Ontario. Before he could even finish saying hello, I blurted out “It’s my dad. He has cancer. I don’t want him to die”.

Tears flooded my eyes, my knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor. As the youngest of four siblings, I had often feared growing up that I would not get as much time with my parents as my brother and sisters; but I never considered that my time could be cut this short. I started seeing my life play in fast-forward.

“What if he dies and doesn’t get to walk me down the aisle? What if he never gets to hold my first child?” I asked Chris desperately.

“Do you need me to come to Ottawa?” Chris offered. “I can get a flight tonight”.

“No, it’s okay” I mumbled.

Chris, a mathematician, is even more analytical and rational than me. “Let’s not panic until we know more. Your dad will be all right. People beat cancer every day. Cancer is not a four letter word” he reminded me – a sentiment I would later offer up to my dad that he would repeat in his blog.

Over the next few months, and five rounds of chemo, I watched my dad lose his hair and his energy. But I never saw him lose hope or his faith. I followed his blogs diligently and became one of his biggest fans. Although his body was weakening, his spirit could not be dampened. Likewise, I watched my mom stay strong and supportive. Always calm, her optimism was unwavering. I watched our entire family grow closer and come together to support and cheer on my dad. Every day, I watched the number of “Total page views” of my dad’s blog climb. First reaching 1,000, then 10,0000; now over 18,000. We had an entire community supporting our family, and despite the cancer, I knew that we were lucky.

Then, just after Christmas, we got the gift that we had all been waiting for – news that dad’s cancer tumors were shrinking. My family was elated. My parents celebrated and praised God. Forever the scientist, I felt the deepest gratitude for the doctors, nurses and researchers. Thanks to their dedication and hard work, cancer is no longer a four letter word.

In the last year, I have come to realize that cancer is so much more than the cellular and molecular pathways that underlie its etiology. It is a disease of people. And these people are our loved ones – our mothers, fathers, children, brothers, sisters, and friends.

On Friday, June 8, 2012, I will be participating in Relay for Life – a 12-hour overnight walk benefiting the Canadian Cancer Society. I am walking for my dad, my inspiration and Superman, and for all of the other families who have been touched my cancer. Although science has been able to save so many lives in the last two decades, including my dad’s, I know that there other families who are not as fortunate and who have lost someone they love to this disease. There is still more research to be done and so many more lives that need to be saved.

If you wish to sponsor me, Carolyn Daoust, in the Relay for Life walk, please visit the link below: https://secure2.convio.net/cco/site/Donation2?idb=1622419256&df_id=18462&FR_ID=10586&18462.donation=form1&PROXY_ID=4378062&PROXY_TYPE=20&JServSessionIdr004=5myoivkwi1.app239b