Joel’s story

_“In the summer of 2023, I got a phone call from a nurse who spoke with what I’d describe as an alarming degree of empathy. A strange lump in my thigh had led my physician to recommend an MRI, although all the while they continued to suggest there was nothing to be worried about. Suddenly I heard from a nurse, who seemed almost overwhelmed with concern, pausing between pieces of inconclusive information. ‘I know it’s a lot to process…’

I was 37 years old and, during COVID, I’d gone through the dissolution of a difficult and traumatic marriage. Trying to piece back together a sense of self, direction, and new life, I enrolled in university as a mature student at the University of Guelph. My hope was to use the difficulties of my life thus far to plot a career as a therapist. Then, only a year into full-time studies, I received this diagnosis of a rare myxoid liposarcoma. It honestly just hit me as being completely absurd. I didn’t even know how to begin to make sense of it.

Suddenly in a spiral of quick action plans and treatment schedules, I found myself in downtown Toronto, exchanging my days sitting in class for daily trips to the hospital for radiation therapy. Despite this disruption, this discouragement, it became a kind of odd adventure: my ‘cancer holiday’ in the big city. It’s strange, but at the same time as cancer derailed my life, it also gave me a clarity of direction. While in treatment, I had this anchor to my days.

Treatment was five days a week, so I knew what I was doing every day. Announcements of this unforeseen tragedy brought me sudden profound support and care from my friends and family. Even Toronto somewhat opened up to me, as between treatments I was discovering new cafes, visiting bookstores. I was also internally juggling this strange guilt, feeling like I needed to be struggling more. Holding both this profound displacement and uncertainty with the constant care of my medical team and community, wanting to be worthy of their concern.

“This journey has been destabilizing, overwhelming, and at times downright frightening, but it has also left me humbly seeking to pour my energy into what really matters.”

Connection and community were essential, as I felt at times a bit lost in the maze of downtown Toronto. One profoundly meaningful connection made was with a woman named Sharon, at Princess Margaret Hospital, a member of the custodial staff. She would often greet me with a warm and familiar ‘Hello!’ when I would make my daily visit. I also would be quite lost without the wonderful staff and downright lovely folks who make up the Young Adult Cancer Canada (YACC) community.

This journey has been destabilizing, overwhelming, and at times downright frightening, but it has also left me humbly seeking to pour my energy into what really matters. A large part of that is connecting with others through my own story, wanting to be someone who can not only sympathize but truly empathize with what it’s like to go through an experience like this. I want to use the fruits of my hardship to nourish others. Part of making my experience meaningful is using the difficult things as compost, breaking down the grief and struggle into soil from which beautiful things can grow.”