Celia Chandler, Writer

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Connected by our Why

Nobody fundraises just for fun.

A cancer diagnosis is like being thrown into the ocean, just as a large wave is cresting - not a damned thing you can do about it but hold your breath and brace yourself. When Jack was treated for lung cancer five years ago, holding my breath and bracing meant being supportive and physically present in the hospital. And hoping for the best. The hope was strengthened because Jack was treated at one of the top cancer hospitals in the world, Toronto’s Princess Margaret Cancer Centre

One day in the hospital, I saw a flyer for their annual 25 km walk. I glommed onto it: I can walk and I can squeeze money out of people: I can do something!  

The 2016 walk was just before our wedding reception. We encouraged our guests to donate to the walk rather than give us gifts. We’d already received our biggest gift - Jack’s cancer had been knocked into submission.  (Not remission but things were looking better.)

I walked that September with a handful of friends each with their own cancer connection. I raised $8000 but more importantly, I felt connected to my teammates and to the people in our hearts and minds as we walked

2017 brought Jack a year of relative health. We were still in the ocean and while the waters were calmer, it felt like they could shift anytime. I walked 25 kms again, still needing to do something useful, something tangible, and raised $3000. I looked at the faces of the thousands of walkers and speculated where they were in the cycle - one wave behind them like me, braced for a second to roll in? 

The next year didn’t start off well. For the first time, Jack felt poorly and it wasn’t due to treatment side effects. I signed up for a shorter walk in June, because the 25 km event coincided with a family wedding. I raised funds to counter the sense of unknown that we felt as the medical team poked and prodded to find the cancer they knew must be lurking in the rising water ahead of us. The wave was about to crest but we didn’t know exactly where, when, or how. 

By September, we knew Jack’s lung cancer had metastasized to the brain and spinal fluid. We were hanging onto the top of the wave but we knew it would take Jack under soon. Jack’s medical team and I were focussed on keeping him comfortable. Neither of us was thinking much about fundraising. 

Eight weeks later, as Jack and I discussed arrangements for his medically assisted death and the celebration of life that would follow, he agreed that if friends and family wanted to donate to a cause in his memory, it should be the following year’s cancer walk. We owed the hospital much and wanted to help them do for others what they’d done for us. 

When I completed the 25 kms ten months after Jack died, I was joined by a new crew including his daughter, his cousin, a cancer survivor, and a friend whose husband is 10+ years into a cancer diagnosis. We were all connected by our why. I was proud to raise $17,000, putting our team in the top 10 of community fund-raising groups.

2020 brought a new era in cancer walks - remote walking. While I still care deeply about Princess Margaret Cancer Centre and am grateful for the great care Jack received, walking has become a COVID lifeline, a way to connect to the world safely. Last year I challenged myself to walk 1000 kms between May 13 (our wedding anniversary) and the date of the remote walk in September. Fund-raising dropped off as many worried about their economic fortunes. Nonetheless, I put $4500 into the hospital’s coffers. 

This year, I upped the challenge to a 2000 km walk from Jan 1 to Sep 11, aiming to walk about 8 kms/day.  I’m proud to say, I’m on track with about 1700 kms under my feet already.  

Earlier this summer, the rough waters of cancer killed a good friend’s brother at 59 leaving a widow and children floundering, struggling to catch their breath just as I was in November 2018. I know that if you’re living on this planet, you’ve got your own “why” - your own experience of the cancer wave. I’d love to have you join Team Bidi to walk remotely with me. Or, if you’d rather, donate to the cause. Click here to help me towards my goal of $5000.