Fighting for Canyon

Eleven-year-old Canyon Conway grew up in Copper Center, Alaska, where life is full of snow, rivers, wildlife, and adventure. He was always outside—fishing, skiing, hiking, and helping his family with chores. That energy hasn’t gone away. It just shows up in new ways.

Canyon was diagnosed with terminal osteosarcoma, a rare and aggressive bone cancer, in March 2023. His treatment has included many surgeries, including a leg amputation, and long stays in Seattle, far from home. But even through the hardest days, Canyon hasn’t lost his sense of humor or his love of a good prank.

“He’s a fighter, but also a goofball,” says his mom, Carolyn. “He likes to mess with people, keep them laughing. He doesn’t want pity—he wants to keep being himself.”

Stability in the storm

For nearly two years, Canyon and his mom have stayed at the Seattle Ronald McDonald House while he receives care at Seattle Children’s, with trips home as often as medically possible. They’ve spent more time here than at home, and they say the House has made all the difference.

Life during treatment is full of unknowns. Appointments change. Symptoms come and go. Plans fall apart.

“Stability means everything when you’re in the middle of so much unknown,” Carolyn says. “The House gives us that.”

The full kitchen allows Carolyn to cook for Canyon whenever he’s hungry—even at 2 a.m., once a wave of nausea fades. On evenings she can’t cook, there are fresh, ready-to-go meals prepared by volunteers.

“Having everything here—even the cleaning supplies—has just been incredible,” Carolyn says. “It’s one less thing to worry about.

Canyon & TherapyDog1

More than just a place to stay

The House has been a constant in Canyon’s treatment journey—more than just a stop between hospital visits. It’s where he’s gotten to know staff, settled into a routine, and found ways to just be
a kid.

During his first few months, he visited the craft room almost every day to draw or paint. These days, he’s usually in the game room or finding ways to make people laugh. “I try to mess with the staff a little,” Canyon says with a grin. “Just to keep things fun.”

He also loves weekly visits from therapy dogs, special events like a holiday cruise on Puget Sound, and movie nights at the House. “That stuff makes the bad days better,” Canyon says.

Kindness that sticks

The small things add up: spaces to hang out, people who remember your name, and a place where laughter is still part of daily life. For Carolyn and Canyon, the staff and volunteers at the House feel more like family.

“Everyone here is so kind,” Carolyn says. “They stop and talk even when they’re busy. They ask how you’re doing, what you need. It doesn’t feel like an institution—it feels like people who care.” 

A long way from home

Getting to Seattle from Copper Center takes time, money, and careful planning. Someone has to stay behind—usually Canyon’s dad—to keep things running and make sure the pipes don’t freeze during the long Alaskan winters. And with Canyon’s older sister, Calie, still at home, it’s been important to keep things steady for her, too.

That’s why the affordability of the House matters so much. Thanks to donor support, families like the Conways can stay close to the hospital without worrying about hotel costs or long commutes. “We’ve been lucky that my husband and daughter have been able to visit,” Carolyn says. “But we couldn’t afford to be here, trip after trip, without this House. I don’t know what we would have done.”

Canyon Alaska

Why give? Carolyn puts it best:

“Our babies are in a fight for their lives. Some of us are told there is nothing else that can be done. To have a friendly environment close to the hospital, a freshly baked meal ready for us on days we can’t even see straight, and a place to pray and just cry is the sanity that is much needed to keep fighting the fight for our kiddos.”

Help families like the Conways stay close to care.
Your gift provides meals, comfort, and a community of support during life’s hardest moments. Give now.

Share: