“When my oncologist said I would be embarking on a marathon, I didn’t understand the extent of the road that awaited me.”

My name is Caroline Nadeau, and I am 27 years old. My son Antoine is 4 years old. I am currently undergoing treatment for the recurrence of my ovarian cancer.
 
I was told I had a borderline ovarian tumour in May 2015, and I was operated on in January 2016. As a result, I have been menopausal since I was 24 years old. In August 2018, I was diagnosed once again: my cancer was back, and it had spread throughout my abdomen. It had also evolved into a low-grade stage 3 cancer.
 
My oncologist told me that I was about to embark on a long and difficult marathon. The news affected me deeply, but I was much more focused on my friends and family than myself. I made sure that my parents were doing well even though their daughter was sick again, that my brother and sister weren’t hurting, and more than anything, that my son wasn’t feeling insecure given the news and that he felt safe. I was so concerned about my loved ones that I forgot about the cancer taking over my body. It was my life that was changing once again, it was my body that was in danger.  
 
From the moment I realized I had forgotten about myself, that I was losing my bearings and strength, I knew that I could never cross my marathon’s finish line like this. I needed to find the inner strength to begin the marathon. So I asked my father to help me search for help.
 
It was finally during a visit to the CHUM – where I was being treated – that I met a sweet, empathetic, radiant gem: Laure, an employee of the Quebec Cancer Foundation. She was the one who spoke to me about the Foundation, and who invited me to take a tour. Given my desire to find the energy to start my marathon, and given the fact that my resilience was stronger than anything else, I decided to visit the Foundation.
 
Laure welcomed me with open arms and introduced me to Lucie, the Foundation’s art therapist. Lucie, another gem, spoke to me about the art therapy workshop for young adults with cancer.
 
I was relieved that the Foundation could help me meet other people facing the same health-related challenges. They, too, are outstanding marathon runners with daily lives that are very out-of-the-ordinary. During our art therapy sessions, we are simply a group of young people living strange, similar lives: having to live with an illness that affects our loved ones and, for four of us, that affects our children as well. Within the group, we can simply get things off our chest, share, and discuss without misunderstanding or judgment. We understand each other, we support each other, we lift each other up and help each other out immensely. We give ourselves a break from our own personal marathons so we can get better. We do a lot of good! I realized that these young people would become family to me.
 
When my oncologist said I would be embarking on a marathon, I didn’t understand the extent of the road that awaited me, and I didn't understand to what degree the word “marathon” was the most accurate word to describe the path to recovery.
 
At the Foundation, I also met a group of supporters for our marathons: the Foundation’s employees. They are devoted, kind, attentive, empathetic, and so humble.
 
I also include you among my team of supporters. To me, your donations are more precious than you could ever imagine. Your donations allow us to gather in a warm, welcoming place where we can find comfort during a massage, energy during a kinesiology session, and lightness during an art therapy workshop. It is also a place for people to enjoy a warm, familiar place when they are far from home during their treatments.

Marathons are a team sport: it takes a trainer, fellow runners, supporters, and lots of self-help. At the Quebec Cancer Foundation, we have all the resources and all the people anyone could ever need to help each one of us reach our individual finish lines, strong and proud.