During the May long weekend 2023, my five-year-old daughter Sloane began complaining of leg pain. Initially, I chalked it up to growing pains. But when she grew increasingly tired, achy, and developed a fever, I suspected something more than just a minor bug. When her symptoms didn’t improve, I brought her to the Alberta Children’s Hospital—never imagining that we would soon be facing a life-changing diagnosis.
After a series of tests—ultrasound, MRI, CT scan, and finally a biopsy—we received the heartbreaking news: Sloane had stage 4 neuroblastoma, an aggressive cancer affecting her adrenal gland and immature nerve cells. The shock was overwhelming, especially considering that just two months earlier, her bloodwork had been completely normal. In that moment, we resolved to transform our shock and anger into hope and strength, embracing the mantra “Strong Like Sloane” and vowing to “kick cancer’s butt.”
Sloane’s treatment journey began immediately. She underwent five rounds of what we humorously called “easy” chemotherapy, followed by surgery to remove a 6 cm tumor from her adrenal gland. This was just the beginning—high-dose chemotherapy and two stem cell transplants followed. The high-dose chemo was so potent that its toxicity would seep through her skin, requiring me to give her baths every six hours with gloves on. For her safety—and that of other children—Sloane couldn’t leave her room, missing out on the simple joys of playing with friends.
The next hurdle was a special form of radiation not available in Canada. Earlier this spring, Sloane traveled to Jacksonville, Florida, for a month of proton radiation. I’ll never forget the moment she got to ring the bell, a celebratory signal marking the end of her radiation treatments. She then went through six months of immunotherapy, a long but less painful time for all of us.
I’m pleased to report that Sloane has been in remission since April 2024, but we still have a long road ahead of trial drugs to reduce relapse and the overwhelming fear that this cancer could return. But I’m hopeful for a brighter future for all kids facing this diagnosis.
As I reflect on our journey, I’m filled with pride for our little warrior. Yet, as I often say, kids should be ringing bike bells, not cancer treatment bells. We remain forever thankful for the researchers and community members who are working tirelessly to ensure a brighter, healthier future for children like Sloane.
After a series of tests—ultrasound, MRI, CT scan, and finally a biopsy—we received the heartbreaking news: Sloane had stage 4 neuroblastoma, an aggressive cancer affecting her adrenal gland and immature nerve cells. The shock was overwhelming, especially considering that just two months earlier, her bloodwork had been completely normal. In that moment, we resolved to transform our shock and anger into hope and strength, embracing the mantra “Strong Like Sloane” and vowing to “kick cancer’s butt.”
Sloane’s treatment journey began immediately. She underwent five rounds of what we humorously called “easy” chemotherapy, followed by surgery to remove a 6 cm tumor from her adrenal gland. This was just the beginning—high-dose chemotherapy and two stem cell transplants followed. The high-dose chemo was so potent that its toxicity would seep through her skin, requiring me to give her baths every six hours with gloves on. For her safety—and that of other children—Sloane couldn’t leave her room, missing out on the simple joys of playing with friends.
The next hurdle was a special form of radiation not available in Canada. Earlier this spring, Sloane traveled to Jacksonville, Florida, for a month of proton radiation. I’ll never forget the moment she got to ring the bell, a celebratory signal marking the end of her radiation treatments. She then went through six months of immunotherapy, a long but less painful time for all of us.
I’m pleased to report that Sloane has been in remission since April 2024, but we still have a long road ahead of trial drugs to reduce relapse and the overwhelming fear that this cancer could return. But I’m hopeful for a brighter future for all kids facing this diagnosis.
As I reflect on our journey, I’m filled with pride for our little warrior. Yet, as I often say, kids should be ringing bike bells, not cancer treatment bells. We remain forever thankful for the researchers and community members who are working tirelessly to ensure a brighter, healthier future for children like Sloane.
