
A mother and daughter’s fight against brain tumours
Looking at a photo of Haley Toomey and her mom, Cayla, the resemblance is uncanny. With the same cheerful smile, bright eyes and blonde hair, there’s no doubt the pair is mother and daughter.
“She couldn’t deny me if she tried,” Haley says, laughing.
Beyond their similar appearance, Haley and her mother shared a penchant for the quiet life in Glace Bay, N.S., choosing to spend time together at home with family and friends.
Haley describes kitchen parties and movie nights, where she and her mom would be joined by her dad, Tim, and brother, Ryan. There was also the occasional drop-in visitor, who was always welcome.
“We had an open-door policy,” says Haley. “My friends could show up at my house, whether I was home or not, and my mom would act like they were her own. There was never a lack of love in my house.”
The end of life as they knew it
In March 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic hit, everything changed.
“It was not only the beginning of COVID, but it was also the beginning of the end of life as we knew it,” says Haley.
Cayla began suffering from what was initially diagnosed as migraines, which had her in and out of the doctor’s office for two weeks.
“She knew that it was something greater than migraines, but she wasn’t the kind to go against medical advice,” says Haley. “She just took what the doctors were saying and ran with it.”
Haley recalls a day in April, where her mom attempted to make breakfast and forgot that the stove was on. Throughout the day, Cayla was unsteady on her feet and forgetful, which concerned her family.
The next day, Haley awoke at 5 a.m. to the sound of her mom falling into her bedroom door. Her dad had been helping her mom to the bathroom, as she’d lost control of her bodily functions.
An ambulance brought Cayla to the nearest hospital that morning, though her family was unable to join her due to COVID-19 restrictions. Cayla was then transferred to another hospital for an MRI, at which point Tim was able to join her as she was no longer able to communicate.
That’s when they got the news that Cayla had a tumour on the right side of her brain, behind her eye. She was transferred again, to Halifax, where she had emergency surgery. Doctors removed 90 per cent of her tumour, which was determined to be a glioblastoma multiforme (GBM).
Returning home
Cayla came home five days after her surgery, with 52 staples in her head.
“It was surreal,” says Haley. “Considering what she’d been through, she was almost herself again. She was able to, for the most part, function as normal. Of course, our family was wondering about the unknown and what would unfold over the next couple months. But, other than that, things were going well.”
Seven weeks later, Cayla returned to the hospital and learned her tumour had grown significantly.
“It was like a switch flipped one day, and we were back at square one again.”
The tumour had been compressing Cayla’s brain stem, and her family thought they had only days left with her.
A celebration along the journey
Cayla and Tim, with a storied 30-year history, had gotten engaged the year before. Their wedding date was set for Sept. 5, 2020, but they decided to make it official on May 27, 2020, while Cayla was in the hospital.
“It definitely wasn’t the route we wanted to take,” says Haley. “Everything was pulled together within 12 hours. The staff at the hospital was incredible and our local MLA did everything he could to get their marriage license together. It felt like a movie.”
Cayla was later sent to the palliative care unit, though her condition continued to improve and she was, again, sent home. She started an oral chemotherapy treatment, which she was able to do from the comfort of home, though she still required regular check-ins at her local hospital.
“She took it like a champ,” Haley says, of her mom’s experience. “I think she was really ready to put this behind her.”
Remembering Cayla
Sadly, 11 months after her diagnosis, Cayla passed away at age 52.
“It was, honestly, like losing the other half of me,” Haley says.
Having been so close to her mom, Haley says finding her independence was difficult. She grew up dancing competitively, as well as cheerleading, with her mom her biggest fan. These days, when she’s dancing or cheerleading, she thinks of how much her mom would have loved to be in the audience.
“I always think, ‘My mom would love this,’” says Haley. “And then it hits you all over again.”
Haley and her family have found ways to celebrate Cayla’s memory, holding an ’80s themed-dance to honour her favourite era every May—Brain Tumour Awareness Month—that raises funds for their local cancer centre. They’ve also held auctions and made other fundraising efforts, contributing an astounding $22,000 overall.
It’s important to Haley that patients are able to receive the care they need close to home, having seen firsthand what it was like for her mom to travel to and from the larger medical centres. She’s also committed to raising awareness for the brain tumour community, admitting she was unfamiliar with glioblastoma and the occurrence of brain tumours before her mom was diagnosed.
Focusing on hope
“I hope there will be advances in treatments,” Haley says. “I hope there will be improved outcomes, and support and understanding. I hope that through research, individuals and families can find answers and feel less helpless in the face of a diagnosis. And I have hope in legacy and purpose—hope that efforts today will pave the way for future generations to live without the shadow of brain tumours.”
She also hopes for her mom to be remembered as the kind and loving person she was, fighting hard to overcome a challenge that she, nor her family, expected.
“I couldn’t imagine not having her as my mom, in any lifetime,” Haley says. “I find myself grieving the life I thought I would live, had my mom not gotten sick and passed away. But I’m grateful that I had her and I’m grateful for who I am now, because of her.”