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Ezra with a birthday cake

Ezra Dyck

Northern Alberta AB
Canada

To other parents I would say: get comfortable with being uncomfortable. So much about the cancer experience is living in a period of unknowns and unpredictability. When I stopped fighting the need to have everything planned, I was better able to focus on what my son needed in that moment and, believe it or not, share in the moments of joy that still happened along the way

Told by mom Kristin Dyck:

I can remember sitting in the Edmonton pediatric oncology ward the day after my son, Ezra, then 5, was diagnosed with T-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). My husband and I had gone from preparing to embark on a family road trip from Alberta to Ontario to receiving the news that Ezra had cancer. I felt like I had lost all control of my life as I knew it and I was paralyzed by the possibilities that may or may not be my family’s future.

Ezra, 6, with mom Kristin in 2022.
Ezra, 6, with mom Kristin in 2022.

 

Ask for, and receive, help when you need it

The hospital connected me with another parent who had gone through a childhood cancer experience who was now volunteering in the position of peer support. She told me the greatest piece of advice she received was to get comfortable with being uncomfortable, and to tell people exactly what you need. She encouraged me to say yes to the offers of help, no matter how much admitting I needed help made my skin crawl. As it turned out, this advice was echoed by our son's oncologist.

I kept a blog during Ezra's cancer journey to update family and friends. My husband Cody and I live nearly six hours northwest of Edmonton, where the closest pediatric cancer clinic is, and together we have family and friends across both Alberta and Ontario. This meant being able to communicate quickly, to many people at once, was important. Within a few hours of writing out our two largest and most immediate needs - accommodation near the Edmonton hospital for Ezra and I, and childcare for our other children - we had spectacularly generous offers from people in our home community to cover both of those things. 

Ezra, 8, and Kristin, February 2025
Ezra, 8, and Kristin, February 2025.

 

Just like any other 8-year-old boy

In January, Ezra celebrated his first year off-treatment. In the last year we have celebrated all the ways life has returned to “normal” for us. We travel to Edmonton only a few times a year now, and Ezra is thriving at school, despite missing his entire Kindergarten year, and significant portions of Grade 1, while in treatment. He is back to keeping up with his brothers and he no longer requires special considerations to play sports or attend summer camp. Ezra is once again, just like any other 8-year-old boy, and for that we are forever grateful.

Navigating childhood cancer was unfathomably difficult, but if by sharing how my family endured that process I can help ease even one aspect of this life for another family, then I think that's a worthwhile pursuit. We are proof that there is life and celebration both after cancer and during cancer.