MEET
Yvonne Gerard
Caregiver
When Yvonne’s husband, Bob, looked at her after his cancer diagnosis and said four simple words — “I just want to live” — something became very clear to her. She was going to do everything she could to help him.
What followed was a caregiving journey spanning many years: frightening diagnoses, hurried treatment decisions, countless appointments and scans, travel across Canada in search of options, and periods when Yvonne put her own career, health and well-being aside to focus on keeping the person she loved alive.
Today, Bob is living with no evidence of disease (NED), more than a decade after being diagnosed with Stage IV malignant melanoma.
For Yvonne, looking back means celebrating an outcome that once seemed almost impossible. But it also means recognizing the enormous and often invisible role caregivers play in a cancer journey.
“He turned to me one day after his initial diagnosis and said, ‘I just want to live.’ After that, my work was clear.”
First diagnosis
Bob was diagnosed with Stage IV amelanotic malignant melanoma in 2012. Not long after, in 2013, they received devastating news: the cancer had metastasized to his brain.
They were given approximately 24 hours to decide whether he should undergo whole-brain radiation. He received the treatment, and during this time, their lives revolved around medical appointments, scans and treatments. At one point, Yvonne remembers realizing they had a different medical appointment every day for an entire week.
Afterward, when Yvonne and Bob asked what else could be done, it was suggested to just "wait and see."
Through a chance conversation with a colleague, she learned about Kathy Barnard, founder of Save Your Skin Foundation. Yvonne reached out, and that connection changed the direction of Bob's cancer journey.
On Kathy's recommendation, Yvonne and Bob travelled to Edmonton to meet Dr. Michael Smylie, who felt Bob should not have received whole-brain radiation and instead recommended getting a targeted Gamma Knife Treatment.
Shortly after, when Bob’s brain metastases were diagnosed, Yvonne decided to take a 6-month unpaid leave from her job so that she could concentrate on finding Bob more help and treatment options. This time off was invaluable for the both of them as it relieved the anxiety of going to work under such stressful conditions. It also saved his life; Yvonne says, they are sure of that.
Eventually, Bob travelled to Winnipeg, where all four of his brain tumours could be treated with Gamma Knife surgery. At the time, the BC Cancer Clinic could not treat more than 3 tumours.
Throughout Bob’s journey, Dr. Sasha Smiljanic, his oncologist in BC, also became a vital part of their team. He cared deeply about Bob and was willing to explore every possible avenue to help him survive, supporting their efforts to seek treatments outside of BC when necessary.
“Dr. Sasha was vital in guiding us on our journey. He supported us with recommendations, second opinions and seeking treatments elsewhere — absolutely anything that could help Bob survive. And it worked.”
For the first time in a long time, they had something they desperately needed: hope.
“Kathy Barnard was instrumental in giving us both hope and who had the right connections to help us with Bob's medical journey."




Bob remained stable for three years following his first Gamma Knife treatment. Yvonne returned to work and life settled into what she describes as a “semi-normal” rhythm, although the anxiety surrounding every upcoming MRI and CT scan never entirely disappeared.
In 2015, Yvonne made another major decision. She retired five years earlier than she otherwise would have, sacrificing a higher pension because she knew she could not simultaneously manage her career and another period of intensive caregiving if Bob's cancer returned.
Three years after Bob’s last treatment, an MRI showed tumour progression.
They were devastated. But this time, they knew how to advocate, where to turn and that options could exist beyond the first answer they received.
Bob returned to Winnipeg for a second Gamma Knife treatment. Back in Vancouver, another option had also become available: pembrolizumab (Keytruda), an immunotherapy that had recently been approved in Canada. Bob received treatment every three weeks for two years.
In 2018, after an MRI appeared to show further tumour growth, Bob underwent a craniotomy to remove one of the tumours. The results brought extraordinary news: what had appeared to be progression was actually necrotic tissue. The tumour wasn't growing.
Bob completed immunotherapy in 2019. Today, in 2026, he remains NED.
The person beside the patient
Yvonne is deeply grateful for Bob's outcome. But surviving cancer doesn't erase what happened along the way. One of the things she wants people to understand is that serious illness doesn't affect only the person receiving treatment.
Caregiving can become an illness of its own.
“People think that, well, you, being the caregiver, should be happy that you are alive and well and since you don’t have this serious illness, you should be grateful,” Yvonne says.
But while the patient is fighting cancer, the caregiver may be living in a near-constant state of vigilance. Yvonne remembers the anxiety, irritability, exhaustion and stress. She lost weight. She felt perpetually “on edge.” Her mind was always working on the same fundamental task: save and protect the person you love.
“It’s like you are always on high alert. Your job is to save and protect your loved one.”
And then there is the practical workload that few people see. When one partner becomes seriously ill, a household that once operated between two people can suddenly become the responsibility of one. Yvonne found herself taking over everything: cooking, laundry, gardening, finances, garbage, scheduling, driving to appointments and managing Bob's medical care.
At the same time, she became the conduit between Bob's cancer journey and the many people who loved him. Friends and family understandably wanted updates. But writing emails and repeatedly explaining Bob's latest scan, treatment or setback meant Yvonne had to relive those frightening moments over and over again. Looking back, she wishes she had protected herself from that trauma.
“Caregivers have enough to handle day to day without the burden of emailing out updates to many, many caring, concerned people.”
Learning to care for the caregiver
Yvonne eventually realized that she needed moments when she wasn't actively caring for someone else. Sometimes something as simple as walking in the forest helped. Time alone allowed her to return home feeling stronger and better able to manage whatever came next. But she wishes she had understood the importance of caring for herself much earlier. She also wishes she had joined a caregiver support group.
Her advice to other caregivers now is to seek support before reaching that point.
“Looking back, I wish I had reached out for more caregiving guidance and support. I just didn’t know how hard caregiving was until things got better.”
Friends can be there in different ways, offering to drop off dinner, helping a patient into the house after surgery, etc. A person taking the caregiver out for a few hours and allowing them to be something other than a caregiver.
For Yvonne, there was no single person or type of support that carried them through Bob's cancer. It took family, friends, healthcare providers and community.
“It takes a team,” she says.
From receiving hope to giving it back
Save Your Skin became part of that team almost by accident. During a lunch break at ICBC, Yvonne broke down while telling a trusted coworker that Bob had Stage IV melanoma and four tumours in his brain. Her coworker told her she knew someone else at ICBC who had melanoma and was doing well.
Her name was Kathy Barnard. Yvonne reached out.
“The rest is history,” she says.
For Yvonne, that chance encounter demonstrated something she still believes deeply: connections are one of the most powerful ways people can help one another.
Save Your Skin offered something Yvonne and Bob felt was missing when they first confronted his diagnosis: hope, combined with information and connections that could help them act on that hope.
Today, Yvonne and Bob are able to give back to the organization that supported them during their most frightening years. And life, remarkably, has returned to something they once weren't sure they would have again: normal.
Bob is NED. They are living a full and happy life together. And after spending so many years advocating fiercely for her husband, Yvonne now devotes much of that energy to advocating for bears.
Looking back, she can acknowledge what caregiving required of her. There were sacrifices to her career, finances, emotional health and sense of self. Some of the changes caregiving creates, she believes, can be lasting.
But neither does she regret stepping into that role. Bob's determination to live gave her determination of her own.
“Even though it was hard, every moment caring for Bob was worth it. His gratitude, humility, and love — for me, for his life, and for ours together — made it all worthwhile. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”
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