“Everybody knows somebody… everybody knows somebody,” said Jen Larson, a Castleton resident, describing the connection we all have with cancer patients. 

She has worked continuously with patients for years – just not in the way you would expect. 

Larson lost her father to Cancer in 1997, and the disease has seemed to follow close by with her mother and late husband also being diagnosed. 

“I was looking for something to do that could involve the community on a local level while impacting the community on a local level,” Larson said. 

Since 2015, she’s worked tirelessly putting together what she calls Comfort Packages for chemotherapy and radiation patients at the Foley Cancer Center at Rutland Regional Medical Center. 

In these bags are self-care products to help the patients with the symptoms that come along with these difficult treatments. She crowd-surfs on multiple social media platforms and receives donations to buy a patient a care package. 

She makes it clear she only does this from the heart. 

“We make the price point affordable, with each package being $30 and that is the exact cost of the products with a miniscule amount in there to cover taxes and shipping and things like that,” she said. “There’s no profit taken.” 

Everyone knows someone who has dealt with cancer. You’re probably thinking about that person now. Whether they have passed on, are still fighting, or have been cured, we can all agree that it’s a difficult process. 

However, most people don’t know the toll that chemotherapy and radiation treatments take on patients both mentally and physically. 

Alyssa Audet, who was diagnosed with a brain tumor years ago, can speak for this first-hand. 

“I was a patient at FCC (Foley Cancer Center) for radiation treatments and I took oral chemotherapy,” Audet said. “The side effects from radiation can be pretty intense … I did experience dry skin and chapped lips. I would also easily become very cold.” 

Audet has also been involved with helping Larson put together the comfort packages and has been a strong advocate for them from the beginning. 

“I saw a lot of people receive these packages and it would bring a smile to their faces,” Audet said proudly. “Small acts of kindness can make such a difference in lives, especially in patients. They need a boost of positivity.” 

Audet also worked in the Cancer Center for a year and witnessed the reactions of many patients receiving these comfort packages as well. 

“Working at FCC, when patients received the comfort care packages it made their day so special. In such a dark time in someone’s life going through chemo and radiation, a gift like that made them smile,” she said. 

Both Larson and Audet express how thankful the staff and patients at Rutland Regional Medical Center are for the packages that are donated every 12 to 18 months. 

Janice Austin, an RN at Rutland Hospital for over 20 years, recalls an interaction with a patient who received one of these packages. 

“She was so thankful she cried. Chemo patients are so grateful for all the care they receive and it makes your heart feel good about even the smallest gesture,” Austin said. “I cannot express the gratitude the FCC patients showed when they received them.” 

Larson calls the act of kindness a “paycheck of the heart” and is incredibly humble about the whole project. She also recalls her biggest year of donations, which was held in memory of a close friend, Scott Raymond, whose daughter has been involved with the project since the beginning. This particular year they donated 350 packages from over $10,500 raised. 

Larson speaks about how the local community comes together because of the common knowledge of the topic. She knows that it’s a difficult time in someone’s life while going through chemo and said she just wants to make the hardships better for everyone she possibly can.  

“It’s just a non-discriminatory disease. It doesn’t care how much money you have, it doesn’t care who you are, it doesn’t care about anything, what kind of job you have, how educated you are … It doesn’t care,” she said.