(RAPID CITY, S.D.)—It was August of 2020. Already a summer unlike any other amidst the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic, Kay Buhl experienced heartburn for two days straight. She sought medical attention, knowing that heart problems run in the family. After multiple tests, an ultrasound, and two biopsies, the diagnosis was much more serious: Kay had stage four intrahepatic cholangiocarcinoma.

Intrahepatic cholangiocarcinoma is a rare form of cancer found in the bile ducts within the liver. Only 8,000 new cases in the United States are discovered each year, according to the Cleveland Clinic. Cholangiocarcinoma is an aggressive cancer, and as a result, detection and diagnosis typically occur at an advanced stage, making treatment difficult.

17 hours away from South St. Paul, Minnesota, Cameron Buhl had just arrived in Canton, New York, for his sophomore season at St. Lawrence University. He was completing his mandatory quarantine for out-of-state travelers when he received the call.

“It was really hard because I felt so far away and we were very close-knit family, so being that far away and not being able to do anything was the hardest part,” Cameron said. “I said, ‘Alright, I'm not playing hockey this year. I'm just coming home. I'll figure out school and hockey and life later. I just want to come home.’ But she wouldn't let me. She made me stay out there.”

“He wanted to come home,” Kay recalled. “I'm like, ‘No, not yet. I still feel good. You need to be in school. You need to play. It's something I can look forward to every weekend to watch you play.’”

For Kay, an unexpected diagnosis led to a grim prognosis. The first medical center she went to informed her she had only eight months to live. Dissatisfied, the family sought out the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, the same hospital that successfully treated Scott Burt when he fought a cancerous brain tumor last year.

Kay stared down the odds and began her first year of treatments, a combined program of chemotherapy and immunotherapy. In the midst of a college hockey season and quarantine measures, Cameron found a way to spend that Christmas by his mom’s side.

“I actually drove 24 hours so that I could get home for a couple days,” he said. “I had to stay at my now-wife Lex’s house for the first couple days so that I could quarantine and not bring anything back because her immune system was severely compromised. I would do drive-bys and say hi through the window until I finally did the COVID tests.”

“That was my motivation,” Kay said. “They are my everything. They were what drove me. I wasn't ready. I wanted to see them graduate. I wanted to see them get married. I'm hoping I will get grandchildren. I have grand-puppies now, so they're my everything too.”

“She is one stubborn bull,” Cameron added. “We call it Mama Kay's way.”

“She'll leave everything else behind, but not Cam and Cole,” Lex said.

Back in New York, Kay’s diagnosis became something Cameron’s teammates at St. Lawrence could rally around during the pandemic-affected hockey season.

“All the players would send her baskets,” Cameron said. “My classmates would send her videos all the time saying, ‘You're a fighter. Don't you worry, Mama Kay, you're getting through this.’ The head coach, Brent Brekke, was great about it. He really supported us and wanted to make sure that no matter what, family comes first. Even the alumni at St. Lawrence were reaching out to her, giving her words of encouragement, donating to help pay for some of her treatments. It definitely helped the whole team rally around a single focal point when we had so much going on in the world of COVID to just say, ‘You know what? Let's play hockey and let's play hockey for her and let's go win this thing.’”

She carried on with her treatments, completing two more years on the immunotherapy drug Keytruda. Kay had the correct genetic markers to be able to receive immunotherapy, which was significantly less taxing on the body compared to chemotherapy. Her scans continued to show improvement, and doctors told her she was a candidate for surgery—an operation they thought would not be possible for Kay three years prior.

“They went in and they operated and everything was dead,” Kay said. “They found one little rice-sized piece of cancer that was alive still. They removed that, and I have been cancer-free ever since.”

“She is a boxer who just keeps getting up,” Cameron said. “She has had terrible break after terrible break with getting diagnosed with one of the rarest cancers in the world, to getting a brain bleed, to losing half of her walking ability. Her will to just keep going, even though everything in the world tries to keep her down, is what I think we all are so impressed by. We all try to try to emulate that a little in our lives.”

“We didn't even realize it was cancer night,” Kay recalled. “The dates fit our schedule. He had done a surprise video that was played in between periods. He asked if he could say a few words about my cancer. Well, it was a lot more than a few words. It was up on the big video board, and everybody was quiet and listening. I didn't know it was coming, and it was special.”

This weekend has been on the Buhl family’s schedule for months. The Rush will honor Kay tonight on Rush Fights Cancer Night. It’ll be a first for her: a ceremonial puck drop to her son, with a packed house at The Monument Ice Arena to honor her. Additionally, Kay will receive a specialty lavender-colored jersey, and Cameron will wear the ‘A’ for tonight’s game.

Buhl’s mom, dad, and uncle drove into Rapid City on Thursday afternoon—an eight-hour drive which, compared to all the road trips in college, is a breeze—and were in for a treat. After 63 minutes of back-and-forth hockey in the series-opener, Cameron Buhl ended the night by slipping a wrist shot through Wichita goaltender Matt Davis in overtime for his 17^th goal of a breakout sophomore season.