Unbreakable love

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 23/05/2020 (2145 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

In pharmacy school, Lindsey Belding learned all about the drugs that fight cancer, and the things that they do to the body. So in January 2018, when her then-fiance, Luke Belding, was diagnosed with leukemia, she was ready to be his advocate, to help him navigate treatment, to walk with him on the journey. 

They’d already been through so much together. They’d met online in the summer of 2013: he from New Brunswick but preparing to do his masters degree in marine biology at a university in Boston; she from Massachusetts, set to start pharmacy school in Maine. Their connection was instant, and soon proved unshakeable. 

He loved that she was smart, and funny, and independent. She loved that they seemed to be riding on the same wavelength, as if they’d known each other forever. They were best friends before they’d even met in person, she says, and when they finally did meet, that bond only grew stronger. 

It stayed strong throughout the early years of their relationship, most of it long distance, visiting a few times a year. Strong throughout Luke’s 2016 move to Winnipeg, where he started his PhD research in fish biology, and where he proposed to her the next Christmas, around the time he started to feel a searing pain in his bones. 

Their bond did not waver when he was diagnosed with cancer weeks after their engagement, or throughout his first stem-cell transplant that summer, a gift from his brother. Shortly after the transplant, with the support of Luke’s nurses, they held a quiet and intimate wedding in the sanctuary of Health Sciences Centre. 

He was bald from chemotherapy then, and wore a plaid shirt and slippers. She wore a pretty white dress, and held a spray of flowers. They planned a more formal wedding for exactly one year later, but it never came to pass: in early 2019, Luke relapsed, kicking off months of agonizing recovery and a search for a new stem-cell donor. 

Throughout it all, Luke’s brother Ben Belding says, Lindsey’s strength, and the couple’s bright spirits, kept them going. 

“She’s just his rock,” Ben says, from his home in Calgary. “Through this whole process, she’s been so motivated. She’s been home health care worker to him, she’s been nurse to him, she’s been everything… She’s always been at his side, and always been positive.”  

In the spring of 2020, they found a stem-cell match. The process had been delayed by the COVID-19 pandemic, but at last they could dream of a smoother road ahead. They’d just got a new puppy; Lindsey was settling into her work as a pharmacist in Winnipeg. 

On April 9, Luke received his second transplant. The recovery was difficult, and the hospital was closed to visitors, but they know how to handle distance. They texted every day, and chatted on video calls every evening. On May 7, Luke marked his 29th birthday alone in hospital; he was supposed to go home the next day.  

Lindsey had started feeling sick, with a sore throat and rising fever. She assumed it was something like strep, her body run ragged from stress. She took a COVID-19 test; it came back negative. To be safe, doctors decided to keep Luke in hospital until she recovered.

Days passed, and she didn’t get better, and when she went to an urgent care centre for tests and treatment they found something concerning: her white blood cell count was low. Her immune system was failing. She would be admitted to hospital and isolated for her own safety. 

On May 14, five weeks after Luke’s second stem-cell transplant, Lindsey learned she too had B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia — the same type of cancer which Luke had been facing for the last two years. 

It was a staggering diagnosis. The chances of a newlywed couple both contracting this type of blood cancer is astronomically low; the vast majority of cases occur in children. A mathematician the Free Press spoke to Saturday estimated the odds of the Beldings’ situation at roughly one in 10 billion. 

When they found out, Lindsey was in shock. Luke just felt numb. Even doctors who heard about it were stunned: Dr. Anthea Peters, a hematologist and professor at the University of Alberta who specializes in blood cancers, told the Free Press she’s never heard anything quite like the Beldings’ story, calling it incredibly bad luck.  

“It’s still hard to wrap our minds around,” Lindsey says, chatting over the phone from her room at HSC. “There are really no words to explain, because it’s just so unique and weird and everyone keeps saying, ‘what are the odds?’ I keep saying that too. It’s just so bizarre. That’s the best way to put it.” 

In the midst of this stunning news, a moment of grace. For about 24 hours after Lindsey was admitted and before Luke was discharged, they were on the same HSC ward. For the first time in over a month, they were able to hug, and laugh, and share that precious face-to-face time. 

“It was just being able to see her smile,” Luke says, over the phone from their home. “It was needed.”

Now, they once again find themselves facing cancer apart, but together. Lindsey has started chemotherapy, with her current treatment plan scheduled to run through the middle of June. Luke is at home, where he is working to recover from his transplant and preparing to support the couple once Lindsey is released. 

“I’m just trying to slowly get myself back into a condition where once she’s home, she can rely on me to do most of the things for the both of us,” Luke says. “She was doing everything for us when I was sick, so I have to be able to at least do something while I’m just kind of sick, and she’s really sick.” 

They have support. Luke points to their family, who have rallied around them from afar, and to his colleagues at the  University of Manitoba laboratory where he studies fish. They are grateful too for the staff at HSC’s GD6 ward, who have supported both of them all this time: “they are amazing, wonderful people,” Luke says. 

Still, as one can imagine, the financial burden on the young couple has been and will be heavy. Their family has set up a GoFundMe to help them support their recovery; people can donate online here.

In its first 24 hours, the GoFundMe had raised more than $24,000, and messages of support have flowed in from all over.  

“We’ve seen such a nice ray of sunshine the last few days in humanity,” Ben says. “It’s so important to look out for your neighbours… that just might mean reading the story and sharing positive vibes. It makes a big difference. It’s hard to express how much that means to someone. I’ve never felt that power before until recently.”  

Above all, the family hopes that people who read their story will be inspired to sign up to donate blood and stem cells. People aged 17 to 35 who meet the health criteria are eligible to register as a stem cell donor; more info, including an eligibility questionnaire, is available online at blood.ca/stemcells. 

“It saves lives,” Luke says, noting that both have benefitted from donated blood products as well. 

For now, they look to the future. For seven years they’ve been a couple, most of that time separated by distance or illness. The challenge ahead of them now is steep — like a huge wall they have to climb, Luke says — but they will face it the same way they’ve faced everything else: as a pair, unbroken and unbreakable. 

“We haven’t had a chance to have a normal life,” Luke says. “But we try to normalize our lives as much as possible. We’re good as individuals, but we’re better as a team. We’re each other’s best friends, and that’s how we function, and hopefully that’s how we’ll continue to function.” 

For those who wish to follow the couple’s journey, Lindsey has been keeping a blog at lifeloveandleukemia.blog. 

melissa.martin@freepress.mb.ca