Fundraiser for Norm Maracle

13/06/2026

Six months ago today, what we thought was a DVT turned out to be something no one ever wants to hear: cancer.
One doctor thought lymphoma. Another thought lung cancer. As many of you know from following Norm's journey, it was eventually diagnosed as EBV+ Stage 4 Burkitt Lymphoma.
From the moment that diagnosis was confirmed, the medical team moved quickly and aggressively to fight a cancer known for moving just as fast. For that, we will be forever grateful. Their dedication, expertise, and determination gave us hope when we needed it most.
Now, six months later, we find ourselves approaching another milestone. The next step is a PET scan this coming week to determine whether all of the cancer is gone and what, if any, the next steps will be.
While we're slowly finding our way back to a "normal" routine, we're still very much living one day at a time. Every day brings a little more strength, a little more energy, and a little more progress. Norm continues to work hard, celebrate the small victories, and look forward to what tomorrow may bring.
To everyone who has followed along on this journey:
Thank you for your support.
Thank you for your donations.
Thank you for sharing his story.
Thank you for the positive thoughts, prayers, encouragement, and good vibes.
Thank you for the messages, check-ins, and kind words.
Thank you for believing alongside us when the days felt impossible.
No matter what the PET scan shows, one thing remains true: we didn't walk this road alone. Your support has carried us through some of the darkest moments and reminded us of the incredible kindness that exists in this world.
Here's to hope, healing, and continuing to move forward—one day at a time. 💙🥅🏒

02/06/2026

To everyone who has been following along on this journey with me, thank you.
Whether you're across the street, across the country, or on the other side of the world, your messages, comments, prayers, encouragement, and support have meant more than you'll ever know.
Over the past several months, Cheryl and I have connected with some truly incredible people. Many of you have shared your own cancer journeys, whether you're currently in the fight, supporting a loved one, grieving someone you've lost, or proudly saying you kicked cancer's ass. Every story has reminded us that none of us walk these roads alone.
We joke a lot about me being "special," but the truth is, I'm not. I'm just one of many people fighting an illness. This experience has given me an even greater appreciation and respect for everyone battling cancer, illness, and disease, regardless of age, background, or circumstance. At the end of the day, we're all human. We're all somebody's family. And every single battle deserves respect.
For those currently fighting, keep your chin up and keep your head in the game. There will be hard days, but there will also be victories. This coach has your back. You’ve got this!
As for me, it’s been a long haul, very exhausting BUT I've officially graduated to outpatient status. There are still plenty of follow-up appointments, more tests, and some important decisions ahead about the next phase of treatment and recovery. For now, we're taking life one day at a time, focusing on rebuilding strength, restoring my immune system, and doing everything possible to stay healthy and avoid another infection.🤦‍♂️
We also want to thank everyone who has supported our GoFundMe throughout this journey. The reality is that cancer doesn't just impact your health—it impacts every part of life. While we've made it through some of the biggest hurdles, we're not quite at the finish line yet. The medical appointments, travel, one-off medications that aren’t covered and day-to-day expenses continue as recovery moves forward.
If you've been following my story and have been thinking about helping, we're asking for one final push to help get us over the hump. Every donation, no matter the amount, and every share of the fundraiser helps more than you know. Or even sharing some of the other journeys Cheryl has been sharing. 🦋
Most importantly, thank you for believing in me, encouraging me, and reminding me that there are good people everywhere in this world.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.
— Norm & Cheryl 💙🥅🏒

18/05/2026

🦋🪶🦋🪶

15/05/2026

15/05/2026

Let’s talk about life and death…Better yet, let’s talk about a near death experience caused by being febrile while battling cancer!
People hear the word “fever” and think Tylenol, fluids, rest and sleep it off. Cancer doesn’t work like that. 🤦‍♀️ A fever in a cancer patient can turn critical fast. We’re not talking about “man flu” or a 24-hour bug. We’re talking about the body waving a giant red flag that something serious is happening internally.
Most times, fever is the result of infection. The problem is cancer patients often have weakened immune systems from cancer itself, chemotherapy, radiation, transfusions, medications or treatments. Their body cannot fight the way yours can. What your body might clear in a few days can become life threatening for them within hours.
People don’t realize how many different infections cancer patients are at risk for:
• Blood infections and sepsis
• Pneumonia and lung infections
• Urinary tract infections
• Port, PICC line or catheter infections
• Gastrointestinal infections
• Skin infections
• Viral infections
• Fungal infections
And sometimes the infection source isn’t immediately obvious at all, which makes it even more dangerous.
Last week proved just how serious this is. One minute things seemed manageable, the next we were hearing words like “near death experience” and ICU from doctors themselves. Not dramatic family members. Not exaggeration. Doctors.
This is why caregivers like me panic over fevers. This is why oncology teams say go to emerg immediately. This is why we don’t “wait and see.” Show the FEVER card.!!!! Because waiting can cost someone their life.
Cancer is already a battle. Infection(s) on top of cancer is an entirely different beast. One that people truly do not understand until they live it beside someone they love.
So if someone tells you they’re exhausted, scared, distracted or rushing to the hospital over a fever, maybe stop assuming they’re overreacting. Some of us are fighting battles where a temperature isn’t “just a fever.” It’s a medical emergency. 💙🥅🏒

06/05/2026

Cancer. Transfusions. Fever.
Let’s get something straight for the people not fully understanding the seriousness of this. Even the patients believe it or not.
A fever in a healthy person? Monitor it, take some Tylenol, rest it off.
A fever in someone with cancer?
It is not the same. Not even close.
When your immune system is compromised from chemo, your body doesn’t fight like it used to. Something small can turn serious fast. A fever isn’t just “being a bit under the weather”—it can mean infection, and infection can escalate quickly. This is why every single fever is taken seriously. This is why it’s hospital, tests, IV antibiotics, no waiting around to “see if it passes.”
Transfusions? They’re not a casual top-up. They’re keeping levels where they need to be so the body can function, so treatment can continue, so we can keep going. Some days they help more than others. Some days they’re just enough to get through.
And cancer itself? There is no “one way” it looks. No standard experience. No predictable day-to-day. What you see on the outside is a fraction of what’s actually happening.
Now let’s talk about the hardest part some days…
Stubbornness.
Pushing through when the body is screaming to slow down.
Brushing things off.
Not wanting to make a big deal out of something that is a big deal.
Strength and stubbornness can look the same—but they don’t always help the same.
So for anyone thinking a fever is “not that serious” in this situation… it is. Every single time.
This isn’t about overreacting.
This is about staying ahead of something that doesn’t give second chances.
If you don’t understand it, that’s okay.
But respect it. 💙🥅🏒

26/04/2026

Cancer is real—and it hits a lot of people in ways no one prepares you for.
Cancer doesn’t just affect the person diagnosed. It shifts the entire dynamic of every relationship around them.
Some people lean in… and some quietly step back. Not always because they don’t care, but because they don’t know how to show up.
The distance?
Sometimes it’s fear. People are scared of saying the wrong thing, so they say nothing at all.
The silence?
It often isn’t absence of care—it’s uncertainty, discomfort, or not knowing how to sit in something heavy without trying to “fix” it.
The avoidance?
That’s one of the hardest. Watching someone you care about go through cancer can make people confront their own fears about illness, loss, and lack of control. Some people just aren’t equipped to handle that, so they pull away.
And yeah… it can feel personal.
When you’re the one living it, it does feel like people are choosing not to show up. Even if that’s not their intention, the impact still lands the same.
What doesn’t get talked about enough is how isolating that becomes—and how important mental health is in the middle of all of it.
Because cancer isn’t just physical.
It’s emotional. Mental. Psychological.
It’s the racing thoughts at night. The overthinking. The “what ifs.” The exhaustion that isn’t just from treatment.
That’s why having someone to talk to matters so much. 🦋
Not to fix it. Not to give perfect advice. Just to listen. To sit with you in it.
And if the circle you expected support from isn’t showing up the way you hoped—that’s painful, but it doesn’t mean support doesn’t exist. Sometimes it comes from unexpected places. Sometimes it has to be built instead of assumed.
You don’t have to stay quiet.
You don’t have to carry it all in your head.
You don’t have to sit in the dark with it.
If you’re in the middle of a cancer journey—whether it’s you or someone you love—everything you’re feeling counts. The fear, the anger, the exhaustion, the small wins that feel huge… all of it is valid.
And connection matters more than perfection.
A simple “I’m here” goes a lot further than people think. If you feel alone…you’re not! Just message. You matter! You’ve got this! 💙🥅🏒

24/04/2026

20/04/2026

The good, the bad, and the ugly…
No, not the Clint Eastwood movie lol… the reality of a cancer journey.

The GOOD — because there is good, even here, even now. We had a great weekend together. Just the two of us and our dogs. 🐶💙🐶 And I don’t mean anything extravagant or picture-perfect. I mean time spent side by side, doing things others might overlook or call small. Sitting together. Playing music trivia. Laughing when we could. Watching baseball and wrestling. Just being.
Those moments? They matter more now than ever!
They’re not “little” — they’re everything.🦋
Time. Presence. Connection. That was a WIN.

The BAD — the parts that hit quietly but cut deep.
The way exhaustion shows up out of nowhere and takes over like a wave you can’t outrun.
The frustration in his eyes when his body won’t do what it used to.
The anger, the sadness, the grief of losing pieces of the man he’s always been — strong, capable, independent.
And there’s nothing I can say to fix that for him 😞 … only sit in it with him. Remind him, in every way I can, that who he is hasn’t changed, even if what he can do has.

The UGLY — the moments that steal your breath and shake you.
The vasovagal episodes that come on when he tries to push himself just a little too far. The sudden shortness of breath. The racing heart. The cool, clammy skin, the drenched sweats, the look that tells you something isn’t right.
Those moments where everything in you goes on high alert, and training, instinct, and love all kick in at once.
But here’s the thing…
No matter which one showed up — the good, the bad, or the ugly —we faced it together! Xo
Vitals, fluids, checking LOC… it’s become routine.
A routine I never imagined at home, but one I now know like the back of my hand.
And through it all, there is nowhere else I would rather be than right beside my husband. 💙🥅🏒

05/04/2026

This Easter, I’m not here to talk about religion… I’m here to remind you of something real.
Be thankful.
Not just for the big things — but for the little ones we take for granted every single day.
The ability to sit around a table.
To laugh.
To hug your people.
To say “I love you” and actually mean it.
Because the truth is… not everyone gets that right now.
So today — hug your family a little tighter.
Call someone you’ve been meaning to.
Say the words. Don’t assume they already know.
Moments matter. Time matters. People matter.
And if you’ve got them… you’ve got everything !
💙🥅🏒