The Fight to Make It Count
This Diagnosis Didn’t Have to Happen This Way.
Dylan is the result of a broken healthcare system in Ontario.
For over a year, he visited walk-in clinics, emergency rooms, and his now-nonexistent family doctor—describing severe and worsening symptoms. Despite a family history of colorectal cancer on both sides, he was repeatedly dismissed. Told he was too young. Told to wait it out. Told to try a stronger antacid.
It wasn’t until the summer of 2024, after a serious car accident, that things finally changed. At the hospital, doctors performed scans to check for spinal injury—and instead, found suspected cancer in his abdomen.
What followed was a whirlwind of tests, scans, and biopsies. The final diagnosis: Stage 4 colorectal cancer, metastasized to his abdomen and lungs.
He was 39 years old at diagnosis. The cancer is terminal.
When the oncologist told us we were looking at 2.5 to 5 years left together, the air was sucked from the room. It was a devastating blow after over a year of being ignored.
Dylan’s colorectal and abdominal tumors are so extensive and intertwined that he is not a candidate for surgery. Chemotherapy remains his only option—to manage symptoms, slow progression, and try to extend time.
Dylan has faced every brutal curve cancer has thrown at him. He’s endured 15+ rounds of chemo (and counting), internal infections, hospitalizations, and more setbacks than anyone should have to bear. He’s adapted to a new reality, piece by painful piece.
And still—he shows up.
My Heart's Always Yours
Our Love Story
We both share a passion: being together.
We’ve always said we could have fun anywhere, as long as we had each other — and we meant it. From concerts and sports games to wine tastings and tattoo shops, gardens to galleries, the BC seawall to the Acropolis in Athens. We’ve sipped martinis in overpriced restaurants and eaten greasy pizza in parking lots. We’ve walked trails, strolled farmers markets, danced at parades, marched at protests. We’ve laughed until we cried, cried until we laughed, and built a life full of moments we’ve never taken for granted.
We’ve rescued three dogs — Vincent (now passed), Lola, and Chowder — and poured our hearts into loving them the way they deserve. We’ve navigated hard things, too: PTSD, loss, being caregivers for Alexandria’s Oma through dementia and breast cancer, moving homes mid-pandemic, finding new versions of stability again and again.
And on September 15, 2019, surrounded by family and friends, we said “I do.”
Our first dance was to the acoustic version of “My Heart’s Always Yours” by Arkells — the lyrics anchoring our vows:
That no matter where we are, or what circumstances we’re in, we fiercely dedicate our hearts to one another.
Cancer has taken a lot from us. But the hardest part? Knowing we may not grow old together. That the future we imagined — full of milestones, more memories, soft mornings and slower years — may never come.
Still, we remain hopeful.
Hopeful for more time. For more breakthroughs. For a miracle.
If it can happen for someone, it can happen for Dylan.
And no matter what lies ahead, side by side, we go: Always Forward.
Behind Dylan Strong
Dylan Strong started as a way to update friends and family.
It’s grown into something more.
This is now a place where we can share the real story of what it means to live with terminal cancer. Where we can raise the funds we need to survive. And where we can advocate—loudly—for better screening, more education, and more compassion in this broken system.
We hope this space offers truth, community, and maybe even a little hope.
The future of Dylan Strong?
A hub for support. For awareness. For impact. And for love.