Art As Therapy From the Bladder Cancer Community in 2026

Submitter: Virgilio A., New Jersey

About their art: “La Puerta de Oro” /The Golden Door-reminds me of my focus on the beauty of gold. Not for monetary value, but for aesthetic appeal. Treatment was much more tolerable and successful when I thought in gold.

Submitter: Charlie, Illinois

About their art: Eagles are majestic. They weather the storms and fly high. I was able to capture this picture.

Submitter: Allen Dailey, Pennsylvania

About their art: In 2018 I had a CDL, DOT physical It showed blood in the urine, (had no sign or pain) found cancer and had a neobladder in 2019 (stage 4). In 2020 the world shut down. I would watch Bob Ross painting. I said I could try that. I bought some brushes and paint. I entered some paintings in the county fairs. I placed in every class. It was good to do paintings instead of worrying about cancer. Now in 2026 age 75 doing fine.

Submitter: David G., California

About their art: I promised myself a trip if I got through treatment for bladder cancer, and my bucket-list item was to see the Aurora Borealis in person. I recently fulfilled that wish in Fairbanks, Alaska.
As I stood out in the -25 degree weather on a clear night, I felt alive and exhilarated as the lights danced overhead. It was so beautiful! I made it to see this wonder, after all I’d been through in surgery and treatment. It was a miracle.
This was my favorite picture of what I captured that night.

Submitter: , David G., California

About their art: Phoenix Rising is a piece I created after my radical cystectomy, radiation and chemo last spring. The image of a phoenix rising from the flames while crabs (cancer) nips at its heels means a lot to me, as I have a very aggressive form of cancer and the idea of rising in glory away from the specter of cancer really speaks to me. The bird is headed towards a total solar eclipse, the symbol of a portal to new life.

Submitter: Dorinda, Idaho

About their art: My parents always loved caring for seasonal hummingbirds. We lost my mom 5 years ago to MS. My dad has carried on their love of these little birds, I have a hummingbird tattoo in memory of my mom. Every summer I sit on the deck and wait patiently so I can capture these fast small and beautiful creatures.

About their art: Made one of these canoes with my son 30 years ago. The second one was with my grandson this last year. Great to connect with my kids and grandkids.

Submitter: Jim, Colorado

About their art: Made as a gift to my brother-in-law who loves to fish.

Submitter: Julie

About their art: I keep an Art as Therapy journal that I take with me to my infusions, which help me focus my energy in a positive, constructive direction during treatments. In addition, our local cancer support organization offers Art as Therapy Zoom sessions, helping us see the beauty in life.

Submitter: Joe, Alaska

About their art: The out-of-doors is my happy place; it is where I find peace, calm and beauty. I try to be outside every day both for physical and mental strength. I am fascinated with and always photographing landscapes. The view is constantly changing, both through the seasons and with ever changing light patterns. It’s like life; accept the changes, confront and adapt to the challenges, and keep moving forward.

Submitter: Katrina M., Idaho

About their art:

I’ve learned so much through my journey with cancer – as we all have I’m sure. And my main takeaway is that time is such a precious commodity.
I’ve often heard people use the term “Another trip around the sun!” And here’s the thing: In a single year each of us on this ship we call Planet Earth travels over 580 MILLION miles. A fact I find unfathomable. Each of the paintings in my current series focuses on a single moment in that multi million mile journey. This painting titled “Kansas, 1927” is a visual retelling of a story my grandfather recited many times: In the cold and windy Kansas winters he would break trail through snowdrifts with my mother for the two mile walk to and from her one room school house. A tiny moment of precious time in their countless trips around the sun.

Submitter: Salley McInerney, South Carolina

About their art: The Last Normal Pee” is a mixed-media piece which is part of an art and literary exhibition I created after experiencing Stage 2, muscle-invasive bladder cancer and the loss of my bladder in 2021. The exhibition is called “Riding Out the Storm.” “The Last Normal Pee” portrays a normally mundane event – using the restroom – which, on the morning of my surgery to remove my bladder – became much more than mundane. In fact, it was a profound and sad moment in time for me. “Riding Out the Storm” includes 27 artworks and story boards chronicling my bladder cancer journey. It has been shown at the Kershaw Arts Center in Camden, S.C. and will be shown at Stormwater Studios this coming fall in Columbia, S.C. I hope that the show will continue to travel and serve to shed light on bladder cancer, a cancer that tends not to be talked about given its intimate nature.

Submitter: John McMillen

About their art: I was diagnosed with muscle-invasive bladder cancer in January 2025. After an initial surgery to remove the tumor, I underwent several months of chemotherapy and immunotherapy, followed by a radical cystectomy in September 2025. I am now set to complete my immunotherapy treatment in May.
Since my surgery, my focus has been on discovering my “new normal.” Returning to stained glass art has played a meaningful role in that journey. I had started creating Piggy before my diagnosis, but she remained unfinished until recently. Reconnecting with my creativity has helped me rediscover the artist within me, and I’m grateful to be enjoying the life I had before my diagnosis!

Submitter: Robyn, North Carolina

About their art: I was diagnosed with stage III, muscle invasive bladder cancer three weeks after moving into my NC home, Aug 2017. I moved from Connecticut a couple of months prior and was living with my daughter’s family prior to buying a home.

I underwent 3 months of chemo and a radical cystectomy. After recovery from surgery, I started hiking again. Nature has always been my healing place.

During my recovery, I started painting after a 35 year hiatus. It was therapeutic. I painted landscapes inspired by my hikes. It gave me hope and purpose. This painting is one of many that adorn my home. It hangs in my living room and is a reminder to me that the path to healing and recovery is both spiritual and physical. You may not know where the path will take you, but trust your journey. You will be a much stronger person than you were before.

Submitter: Bob Schreiber, Massachusetts

About their art: I have fond memories of the Burma Shave signs along the road from family trips when I was young. I wanted to recreate this joy to share with all the people attending the annual Walks to End Bladder Cancer. These signs were displayed at the 2025 Boston walk. I had a lot of fun thinking up these jingles, and hope this inspires others to do the same.

Submitter: Steven, New York

About their art: “I have had a passion for photography my whole life. I always try to capture and share what I see and feel. I take pictures wherever I am. It can be therapeutic, it keeps grounded and gives me joy.
These two images are evocative to me and capture my bladder cancer journey. They both have a brooding heavy sky with an orange band, over water and a foreground of rocks and blocks. The image on the left was taken from my hospital room in New York City looking out at the river and Queens. This is where the journey began. The picture captures the feeling. There would be no more pictures for a while.
The second picture though similar in aspect couldn’t be farther away. Taken a year and a half after surgery at a happy place and time. The On the shores of a great lake, still under a heavy sky, but now after a big storm. The golden sunset light dancing on the waves was clean and clear.”

Submitter: Jane Theoharides, Massachusetts

About their art: This is a wool appliqué wall hanging I stitched during the weeks leading up to my radical cystectomy including the night before the surgery in my hotel room. I continued to work on it through the many weeks of recovery. Keeping my hands busy helped me deal with all the anxiety of bladder cancer, the surgery and the recovery. This now hangs in the front hallway as a reminder of the journey. (Designer of the pattern is Bonnie Sullivan.)

Submitter: Jimmy U., Oregon

About their art: Within a day or two of receiving my diagnosis of bladder cancer, I took comfort and even found some laughs in coming up with this “talking blues” song.

Submitter: Michael Vasallo, Florida

About their art: The video answers this question! Dancing has always been a part of my life. I started a TikTok page on vacation one summer with my kids and made a few silly dancing videos. I left my TikTok page alone until I was diagnosed with bladder cancer. I started using TikTok to video blog my treatment experiences, and one of my followers told me that when I felt better I should go back to posting dancing videos. So I did! The dancing was therapeutic and celebratory. I learned to celebrate the small milestones along the way in the long journey that is bladder cancer. I dance for exercise, I dance for fun, I dance to celebrate, I dance to teach, I dance to show bladder cancer that it has not won. And I dance to give others hope!

Submitter: Margo Wickersham, Texas

About their art: Quarantine made my journey through aggressive bladder cancer especially difficult. No one could come inside the hospital, so I was extremely lonely. Bladder cancer wasn’t talked about like other cancers. Which contributed to the loneliness. And it added shame. Writing is one of my art forms of expression. Journaling was on way I dealt with all of these challenges. I promised myself that if I survived the chemo and radical cystectomy, I would use my voice to raise awareness of bladder cancer and help remove the stigma.

I wrote a book about how I used gratitude to get through the toughest and most lonely moments during my bladder cancer journey to share hope with other patients. Gratitude in the Storm – When Not Dying Is Enough to Keep Fighting is available on Kindle and paperback on Amazon. I’ve added the link in this application and am happy to send a copy of it if that is helpful.

Now, I’ve become an active patient advocate and continue to be inspired by the amazing community that BCAN has help create. BCAN was the resource that got me through when the world was shut down and I was fighting for my life. I am grateful!