Author: Holley Stuart
Diagnosis: Lymphocyte-predominant Hodgkin lymphoma
Age of diagnosis: 16

In May 2025, I embarked on a unique adventure hosted by the On the Tip of the Toes (Sur la Pointe des Pieds) Foundation, which has been offering therapeutic adventures to young people living with cancer since 1996. Each year, they organize several expeditions designed to support healing the mind, heart, and soul.

I had the privilege of participating in the 79th expedition, a four-day, off-grid canoe trip on the Poisson Blanc (White Fish) Reservoir in Quebec. Our group hailed from various parts of Canada: six from Quebec, one from Alberta, one from British Columbia, and me from Ontario. This bilingual (English/French) voyageur canoe trip included nine participants and nine expedition team members who made the experience unforgettable.

This adventure was truly transformative

The expedition team members took care of every detail, including delicious meals, proper campsites, transportation for our belongings, and the necessary medical support. They also blogged our adventures and supported our mental health by encouraging us to share and listen to each other, as well as giving us time to journal.

Before the trip, my emotions were on a rollercoaster—excited, nervous, and unsure of what to expect. The experience was also phone-free, which in this day and age is hard when our phones are always with us. But without our devices to distract us, we were able to truly connect with each other and the world around us. My adventure began on a Wednesday, when I took my first airplane trip without my family to meet my team, people whom, up until that point, I had only met online. Thursday morning, we headed to base camp to prep our belongings with the items provided by the organization. Over the next few days, we shared our cancer journeys, learned about each other’s interests, joked, sang (a lot), and played games. 

The Poisson Blanc Reservoir is breathtaking with calm, dark waters and hilly mountains covered in various shades of green. The reservoir is dotted with numerous small islands, some of which are campsites, while others remain untouched. The view seemed to stretch for kilometers.

During the day, we canoed the reservoir to our lunch location and then to our evening campsite. Some highlights: singing songs in the boat, tossing the ball around at lunch, waking up others to the song “Hotel California,” and engaging in many conversations. At night, we enjoyed campfires, playing the Loup-Garou game and reflecting on our day. 

This adventure was truly transformative. I highly recommend it to others seeking a unique and healing experience.

Author: Glenda Gilbert

My name is Glennda Gilbert, and I am a three-time cancer warrior! My cancer journey began when I was diagnosed with osteogenic sarcoma at 13. I now live with metal from my hip to my knee in my right leg.

Much later, doctors discovered I have a rare genetic mutation called MUTYH, which increases my risk of certain cancers. In my 30s, I was diagnosed with schwannoma, and later, clear cell carcinoma.

Nothing has healed my broken spirit the way my ink has

After recovering from those cancers and treatment, moving forward required not just medical monitoring, but internal healing, too. I’ve done both yearly tests and counselling for PTSD. Defying all odds has left scars which I’ve learned to live with. One way I have found helpful for my healing is my tattoos.

I didn’t start getting tattoos until my mid- to late-thirties. I was never someone who wore dresses or makeup, and never really felt like I belonged. My tattoos have given me a path to closure, healing, and helped me figure out who I am. They have helped me add colour to a dark world. They are a way of talking without talking, they are my amour and my storybook on my skin.

My tattoos show my story of lost loved ones, pride in progress and beauty in the darkness I never thought would pass. These are my favourites:

1. Zombie on my back (not pictured) represents my experience with both hospital food and chemo.
2. Crests on my chest for each of my parents, who did their best to help me through my first battle. (My other two cancer battles I kept to myself as my family had faced enough.)
3. Alice in Wonderland on my leg. This was my favourite childhood story. Sometimes we need to escape reality, even if for a short time.
4. Firecracker on my arm. This speaks for itself!
5. The lantern on my neck shows the light in the darkness of the storm. I’ve been walking in a storm my whole life, but in any storm, light can break through.

Nothing has healed my broken spirit the way my ink has. It has made me feel brave, beautiful and powerful. This is my story, worn for all to see. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.

STAY WARRIOR STRONG!

*Glennda has worked with London, Ontario, tattoo artist Dave Schultz since the beginning of her journey. She has also come in top 10 and top 2 in her category for Inked Magazine’s contest for the past two years.

Author: Patrick Evans

I was just 15, living a pretty average teenage life. I played sports. I was lucky to have a great group of friends who made everything better, and that became even more apparent with what was about to happen next.

When we got that call from the hospital, my stomach dropped. Even before the doctor got to the point, I was already panicking, wondering what my next few months would look like.  I was told I had been diagnosed with Stage 2 Hodgkin lymphoma, a rare type of blood cancer that primarily affects the lymphatic system.

I knew I wasn’t doing this alone…

Hearing the word “cancer” out loud felt unreal.  I didn’t know if I was going to be okay, how serious it was, or how my life would change. On top of this, it was May, a month before school ended and my friends and I had plans for parties, camping, bike rides, and staying out late.  It was supposed to be the best summer ever. Instead, it felt like it was about to be the worst.

After that, things moved very quickly. I was going to the hospital almost every day. The first month was brutal. I was tired and didn’t even feel like myself anymore. Thankfully, there was one thing that kept me going.

My birthday was coming up. My hair had already started falling out, and it was stressing me out more than I thought it would.  I decided to take control and buzz it off, but what happened next changed everything.

A few of my friends showed up to surprise me for my birthday.  That alone made my day. But then they all took off their hats—and every one of them had shaved their heads too. I was speechless. It brought me to tears because for the first time in a while, I felt genuinely happy.

From that day on, something changed in me. My spirit and sense of hope were higher than ever. I still had tough days, but I had this new kind of energy in me. I knew I wasn’t doing this alone, and that made all the difference.

During treatment, my friends helped bring back some much-needed normality to my life.   There were even nights when I forgot I was sick. Those moments were everything to me. When I think back on that summer, yeah, I remember the chemo, the needles, and the exhaustion, but more than that, I remember those nights with my friends. That’s what I believe helped me get through it all.

Looking back now, I don’t just see cancer. I see my friends stepping up in a way I’ll never forget. I see a version of myself who kept showing up every day, even when it was hard. I see how love and loyalty can help you through the darkest times. What I went through changed me. But it also showed me just how powerful friendship can be.

 And honestly, I think that’s what saved me.

Author: Varun Sayal
Age of diagnosis: 17
Diagnosis: Ependymoma. Fortunately, it was benign. Most of the tumour was removed surgically, and the rest through radiation therapy.

Photography has not only become a creative outlet, but it has also served as my reminder to continue exploring. To continue pushing myself to my limits. To keep learning. But of course, reality kicks in, and health issues can challenge my ability to stay consistent. If there is one thing I have learned, as a photographer and through this whole journey, it is to make the best of whatever is in front of me.

Whether I am standing around and photographing a beautiful sunset sky with little to no effort or sitting down and placing the camera on my foot to get a better image of Lake Louise, this “playing the cards you have been dealt” approach certainly applies to my art.

Author: Jason Truong

It started out as a lighthearted December night. A short break to relax before I prepared for another day of school. On my laptop was an old video game that me and my sister were playing. Then the phone rang. The call from my doctor was devastating.

“Throughout my life video games have helped me when times were rough…“

In the dead of the night, my dad and I were on our way, stepping through puddles of rain in a dark alley. I went from place to place, and after trials and tribulations, I ended up in the emergency room at the Children’s Hospital in London, Ontario, hooked up to an IV and watching old cartoons on Nickelodeon. I cannot clearly recall the series of events—it was as if I was in a daze the whole night. In the end, I was diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukemia (CML), a relatively rare cancer in children. I was 14 years old.

The first days of my hospital stay were without rest. However, this all changed when a support program at the hospital called Youth CoRE gave me the opportunity to play Nintendo Switch games with an opponent. With this, my days seemed brighter and flew by.

After returning home from 10 days in hospital, I went back to my daily routine of online school. I fondly remember finishing my homework as soon as I could to boot up my laptop, and diving into an exciting game. The shining highlight of my first and second years of high school was the immersive experience of those games, worlds vibrant and inexhaustibly explorable far and wide, together with unique storytelling, music and art direction.

As time went on, online classes became harder to bear. One day, I just couldn’t see the point anymore. For my 11^th year, I returned to in-person learning. My first day back at school was disheartening. I knew nobody. I felt like I didn’t even know myself. I lost sleep and I noticed I was rarely playing video games, if at all.

Eventually, I tried to make time to start playing again. My first title was NieR:Automata, which I had been anticipating for many years. This game’s narrative explores philosophical themes within a narrow context: the search for the meaning of existence, the reason to keep on fighting, and the subject of identity loss, all amidst a war and chaos. It resonated with me deeply. Rediscovering my passion for video games allowed me to reconnect and have fun with my friends, even as all of us got busier.

Throughout my life video games have helped me when times were rough; not only by playing them, but I have also been creating my own since the age of nine. Inspired by the dedication of game developers to their work, I have always thought, “I could be like them someday.”

After finishing a computer programming course in my final year of high school, I decided to take it on as my chosen field of study. In fall 2024, I am bound to start Computer Programming at St. Clair College to help widen my range of programming knowledge. For those who may be living through tough times, I want to inspire them to create, like many games and developers have inspired me.

Bio: Jason Truong is an 18-year-old CML survivor, still undergoing treatment. Here is a game that he created, inspired by Mario. Jason is also interested in sci-fi, anime and wildlife, including sharks and gentoo penguins.

• Castle Crashers
• Chocobo Racing
• Dragon Quest 11
• Final Fantasy XIII
• Muse Dash
• NieR:Automata
• Pokémon Black and White
• Resident Evil 4
• Scribblenauts
• Undertale
• Yakuza 0
• Yakuza Kiwami (much less explicit, equally violent as first)