Making lemonade & memories

Making lemonade & memories

Cancer can suck my lemons!

My blog

I initially started this blog to document my cancer journey, thinking it would have a clear beginning and end. Spoiler alert: cancer had other plans. When we found out my cancer had already metastasized and...

Give a gift of hope

I am deeply grateful for any support you can provide—it truly means the world to me. As a terminally ill single mom to two energetic kids and a rambunctious Jack Russell, life is incredibly challenging....

In the news

I’m a natural sharer, and I’m always ready to speak out about the challenges I face as a cancer patient. Below is a collection of interviews and media pieces where I’ve used my story to...

My story

In February 2019, I found a lump in my breast while showering. Four weeks later, after seeing my GP, getting a mammogram, ultrasound and having a biopsy of my breast and lymph nodes, I heard...

My blog

I initially started this blog to document my cancer journey, thinking it would have a clear beginning and end. Spoiler alert: cancer had other plans. When we found out my cancer had already metastasized and would stick with me for life (literally), this blog became so much more. Now, it’s a space where I share almost everything—from the side effects of treatment to advocating for better cancer care and increased research funding, and even my random musings. It’s a way for friends, family, fellow cancer patients, and caregivers to stay in the loop about how I’m doing and how I’m using my voice to make life just a little bit better for those touched by cancer.

Yes, it shows my vulnerability, but I also try to keep things real with a touch of humour—because, let’s face it, telling people you have cancer (let alone terminal cancer) can be the ultimate conversation killer. I hope my posts take away some of the awkwardness that comes with being an “expert cancer maker.”

If you think someone could benefit from this blog, feel free to share the link! To make sure you don’t miss any new posts, you can sign up to follow my blog, and you’ll get email notifications whenever I post something new. Don’t worry—while palliative treatments aren’t exactly a paying gig, I promise never to sell your email to the highest bidder. It’s strictly for blog updates.

PS: if you enjoy what you read and want to show your support, feel free to buy me a coffee. Your kindness and encouragement mean the world to me—plus, caffeine always helps!

Give a gift of hope

I am deeply grateful for any support you can provide—it truly means the world to me. As a terminally ill single mom to two energetic kids and a rambunctious Jack Russell, life is incredibly challenging. Balancing life-threatening health issues while trying to make ends meet on a fixed disability income has been nothing short of overwhelming. Your generosity isn’t just a helping hand; it’s a lifeline that keeps us going.

Here’s how you can make a difference in our day-to-day lives:

  • Fuel my mornings: A little coffee and a treat make a huge difference. My favorite pick-me-up from the local coffee shop is around $10—and trust me, the world is a better place when I’m caffeinated!
  • Fuel my car: With $20 a week, you’re not just putting gas in my tank—you’re helping me get to critical medical appointments and cancer treatments.
  • Fuel my family: Feeding two rapidly growing kids (who eat like they’re preparing for the NFL!) costs about $200 a week. Your help keeps us nourished and strong.
  • Fuel my fight: Life-saving medications that aren’t covered by insurance cost a staggering $400–$500 a month. Every contribution helps ease this burden and keeps me in the fight.

If you’d prefer to help with gift cards instead, I do most of our grocery shopping at Real Canadian Superstore, and I rely on Amazon Canada for clothing and household essentials.

Thank you for being part of helping my kids and I turn my lemons into lemonade.

Please enable JavaScript in your browser to complete this form.
Your gift is greatly appreciated! I’ve set a minimum gift of $10 to prevent fraudulent credit card testing.
Minimum Price: $10.00

In the news

I’m a natural sharer, and I’m always ready to speak out about the challenges I face as a cancer patient. Below is a collection of interviews and media pieces where I’ve used my story to advocate for better cancer care and increased research funding. It may be too late for me, but by shining light on these critical issues, we can help ensure others won’t have to endure the same fate.

My story

In February 2019, I found a lump in my breast while showering. Four weeks later, after seeing my GP, getting a mammogram, ultrasound and having a biopsy of my breast and lymph nodes, I heard the words:

“You have cancer.”

My oncologist at the Tom Baker Cancer Institute

It couldn’t be true. I was healthy. I was in shape and competed for Team Canada’s snowboarding race team. I never smoked. I ate well. I had everything going for me: an incredible family with an amazing husband, two young children and two dogs, a new job Vice-President job, teaching part-time in university and part way through a Masters of Science degree from HEC Paris. Unfortunately, my oncologist told me my life would be paused. I have triple-positive breast cancer, which is considered to be one of the more aggressive types. Treatment was to start right away.

Part-way through my chemo treatments, I found out the cancer was actually in my bones. It had been there all along. I have stage 4 breast cancer. There is no cure for it; it is terminal. My prognosis is grim, with only 22% chance of living the next 5 years and an average life expectancy between 2 to 3 years.

My estimated “expiry date” is somewhere between February 2021 and February 2022.

But I try not to think about that!

I went through five months of aggressive chemo, a mastectomy, radiation to my chest followed four weeks later by spinal radiation. I also began daily hormone therapy and hormone therapy. The treatments, combined with my pre-existing narcolepsy was horrible and I was bedridden from mid-November 2019 until mid-February 2020. There were days that I was so weak, it terrified me. I truly thought that I would fall asleep to never wake up again. I now receive palliative care, which continues to include daily hormone therapy, two targeted therapy infusions every three weeks as well as a quarterly bone modifying agent infusion quarterly.

Just as I started regaining my energy back in March 2019, COVID-19 lockdown was announced. The stress of homeschooling and the inability to attend my regular physical and lymphatic therapies set me back in my recovery. The pain, exhaustion and stress on my body was unlike anything I ever experienced. And that doesn’t factor in the innumerable appointments with my oncologists, various specialists who deal with treatment side effects and the quarterly CT, bone and MRI scans. Being a terminal cancer patient is truly a full time job.

My view in life is to find the silver linings in things. I’ve been given some rotten lemons, yet I am finding ways to turn them into lemonade. I won’t let cancer ruin the little time I have left with my family.

Cancer can suck my lemons!