In his 40’s Jim was enjoying life with his wife, Sarah, and their four children in Antogonish, Nova Scotia. Teaching drama and English at the local high school was another great joy.
After a particularly busy year, Jim assumed the tightness in his chest, shortness of breath and exhaustion were simply stress. Sarah insisted he see a doctor. An ultrasound led to a phone call asking him to come in right away.
“It was such a lovely day,” Jim recalls. “The sun was pouring into the window of the exam room. I walked into his office as one person. When he told me I had cancer my world changed immediately. I was in a state of shock and anxiety. I walked out of his office completely different,” Jim recalled.
Jim was diagnosed with lymphoma and began chemotherapy followed by radiation. When treatment ended, his doctor told him the cancer was gone. Jim returned to teaching and to life as he knew it.
But two years later, as he was getting ready for his second eldest daughter’s wedding, he asked her to shave the back of his neck. She found a lump. At first, it seemed minor. It wasn’t. When the results came back, it was a different type of lymphoma, so Jim underwent treatment again.
During this same period, Jim’s wife Sarah was diagnosed with Huntington’s disease. “It’s a brutal disease,” Jim says. “It was like I was watching my wife die in slow motion.” It was also around this time that in addition to caring for Sarah and attending his cancer treatments, Jim started volunteering at the local hospital. Living in a small town meant limited access to resources and support, and he wanted to be there for others facing similar challenges. Eventually, Sarah passed away.
Years later, Jim met Anya, who had lost her son and husband to cancer. They connected over their shared loss and experience with cancer. When Anya fell ill during the COVID-19 pandemic, Jim rushed across provinces to be by her side. The diagnosis was brain cancer. One month later, she too was gone.
As if this wasn’t enough, a month after Anya’s passing Jim received a third cancer diagnosis, this time it was multiple myeloma. Cancer was now chronic for Jim, and would be part of his life indefinitely.
“Stepping back into the role of caregiver wasn’t something I expected to do again,” Jim says. “It brought back many painful memories.”
In 2023, while attending a conference in Toronto, Jim met a Wellspring program leader who led music therapy classes. It was something he had never encountered in Antigonish, but it resonated deeply with his love of musical theatre. She convinced him to sign up for Wellspring’s Circle of Songs, Circle of Stories.
A few years earlier, because of the pandemic, Wellspring expanded into virtual programming, making its support accessible to people across the country—including those in smaller communities like Jim’s.
Logging in for the first time, Jim didn’t know what to expect. What he found was a room filled with people living with cancer and those caring for loved ones.
“Being present with people who truly understood provided comfort, trust and honesty,” Jim says. “I didn’t have to explain my anger or grief. I knew they just understood.”
At one session, Jim requested “These Days” by Jackson Brown. “One of the lyrics is ‘these days I seem to think a lot about the things I forgot to do for you.’ That’s how I felt,” he says. “Sharing that publicly takes courage. But it’s very therapeutic.”
Living in a small town, Jim knows he would never have accessed a program like this without Wellspring’s virtual offerings.
“When you’re ill and alone without a community, you can lose that sense of being valued,” he says. “Being able to share my struggles, my celebrations, and even my anger with people who understand – it means everything.”
Today, Jim continues treatment for multiple myeloma. His cancer is chronic, but so is his resilience. He volunteers in the palliative care unit of his local hospital, spends time with his children and grandchildren, and continues to find strength through community.
Through Wellspring, Jim didn’t just find a program. He found people who understood – and a place where his story could be heard.
Jim is pictured above with his daughter Meghan.
One Response
This is a sad but beautiful story. I don’t have cancer but my mom is fighting it. This story motivates me to try and get involved somewhere to help others.