A black and white Flannery family photo of a man, and woman, two little girls, and a baby.

Beating cancer takes community: how the flock showed up to support a Duck family

August 11, 2026

Running around the UO’s Eugene campus, Shea Flannery looked like the quintessential picture of a four-year-old girl. Her pink shirt and unicorn necklace were a striking contrast  against the black seats and glossy wood of a Ford Alumni Center meeting room.  

Shea had just spent the weekend at the Oregon Country Fair with her younger sister Tully and 3-month-old brother Cal. Her dad, Kevin Flannery, BA ’12 (business administration), and mom, Sophia Flannery, BA ’14 (art history), were excited to show their kids more of Eugene and Oregon, the place they'd met and grown to love as their second home. What was extra meaningful about this trip though, was what it represented: no more chemo treatments or emergency room visits, and especially no more cancer.  

A fighting duckling 

On Christmas Day in 2023, Shea was diagnosed with leukemia. Just a month before, Sophia had given birth to her second daughter, Tully. The young parents had no idea they were about to embark on a two-and-a-half year journey supporting Shea in her fight against cancer. Sophia recalls that the doctor who diagnosed Shea promised she would buy a dress, and would wear it at Shea’s high school graduation. 

Before starting treatment, the Flannerys, who are based in the Bay Area, had to choose a hospital. Several years prior to Shea’s diagnosis, they lived in a house across the street from Stanford University. As UO alumni, they were steadfast in their loyalty to the Ducks and in their rivalry with the Cardinal, but the environment of Stanford's campus ultimately led them to choose Stanford Children's Health at Lucile Packard Children's Hospital Stanford for Shea's treatment. 

Kevin said they thought "Let's be in this beautiful place while we go through this terrible thing." 

Shea wearing a pink tutu and wings dressed up in a flower crown as a fairy during treatment.

When Shea and her parents met her treatment team, they were introduced to physician assistant Drew Sachwitz, BS ’13 (human physiology). Through sheer chance, Sachwitz was assigned to Shea's case, along with Dr. Tanja Gruber. Sophia and Kevin looked Sachwitz up and were pleasantly surprised to discover his connection to the University of Oregon. He'd been at the UO at the same time as them, graduating the year between Kevin and Sophia’s own Commencement ceremonies. That shared connection to Oregon became a lifeline for their whole family during one of the most challenging times of their lives.  

Ducks, doctors, and distractions 

The time sitting and waiting during Shea’s treatments allowed the Flannerys plenty of time to talk with Sachwitz and escape from what they were going through. 

"Chemo is the most chill, terrible experience," Kevin said. 

"Especially during football season, it was something to take their minds off of Shea's cancer. We would talk about the football game that happened over the weekend and really go into the ins and outs of it . . . Being able to talk about things other than cancer and treatment and side effects, I think [was] really important, not only for Shea, but for her family as well," Sachwitz said. 

While Shea might not have been able to chime in with her thoughts on the Oregon Ducks' offensive strategy, she still shared a love of Oregon, which she was learning from her parents.  

A man holds a stethoscope to a toddler's chest in a hospital room.
A hand-painted green and yellow picture frame around a photo of Shea holding a sign that says Thank you for helping me beat cancer.

"She loves the Duck," Sachwitz confirmed. Whether it was talking about the Duck or her love of KPop Demon Hunters Shea retained her spark through it all. 

"The kids are the easiest part of cancer treatment. The kids are just so resilient, and just so positive and energetic. It's really the families that you have to give a little bit more TLC to," Sachwitz said. 

Halfway through Shea's treatment, the Flannerys decided she was ready to start preschool. Visiting schools across the Bay Area, they landed at Old Firehouse School, where they met another fellow Duck: Jaycie Kimball, BA ’21 (psychology), who became Shea’s preschool teacher. 

Kimball remembers that when she met Shea, she understood the gravity of helping her adjust to school and life outside of the hospital, making it as fun and easy as possible. 

"When she was still in treatment [her parents said] 'When she's in chemo, she's really hungry,' and I'm like, 'Well, if we need to give her snacks, we'll give her snacks. We're here to help,’" Kimball said. "It's a big privilege to be one of the people that is her introduction to education and to be this soft place for her to land . . . and to be a space for Shea to feel safe and accepted and accommodated." 

Kimball’s tie to UO was ultimately the deciding factor in the Flannerys choosing Old Firehouse School.  

"She's been just an amazing teacher for Shea to step-by-step come out of this experience with," Kevin said.  

A woman in a jean dress holds up a small quilt with finger paintings on each square.
The Flannery family sit in Autzen Stadium, bundled in warm clothing.

Last November, the Flannerys visited Eugene and took Shea and Tully to their first Ducks football game, bringing back a hat for Kimball. It was a welcome escape in the middle of treatment, and an opportunity to reconnect with their second home. Visiting Eugene, Sophia said, makes her a better parent.

"Coming to Eugene—a place that is such a deeply happy place that really built who I am—I hope my children can see that you can be in a really happy place and get weird and find yourself," Sophia said, tearing up. 

As treatment started winding down, and Shea started to get better, the emotional work of healing was just starting. With each monumental part of the process, from her last procedure to getting her port taken out, it started becoming real to Kevin and Sophia. 

"They're in this treatment for two years, and when you're in it, you feel like it's never going to end,” Sachwitz said. “[And then there is] finally that turning point and you can see the light bulb go off of 'We're almost there. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel. We can now finally see a life that's not hospitals and admissions and sickness and chemotherapy. We can see a life that is beyond that.'" 

Recovering together 

In March of 2026, Shea finished her chemo treatment and entered remission. In May, Kevin and Sophia threw a "No More Chemo Party" for Shea, complete with friends, family, Sachwitz and the care team from Stanford, Kimball and the director of the preschool, a horse, hot dogs, and—as Shea noted—"guinea pigs." 

Kevin said that all in all, cancer treatment was the "worst experience ever," but somehow it wasn't all bad.  

"It's crazy when you go through something like that, [but] I got to see Shea learn how to walk again. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life to see her learn how to walk for the second time because she had lost her ability to even sit up," he said, starting to tear up. 

Two months after Shea went into remission, Sophia gave birth to their son, Cal Prefontaine Flannery. Kevin said that Cal became such a source of joy at the end of Shea's treatment, heralding a new beginning for their family. 

Kevin Flannery holds baby Cal Prefontaine Flannery next to Pre's Rock in Eugene.
Kevin Flannery holds Shea's hand as they walk down a hospital hallway.

As they reset and relax as a family, some things are ramping up, like Shea's time at school, where she likes to play house, draw, and talk to her teachers about her family.  

"Seeing her now, it's almost like a different kid," Kimball said. "I really hope she continues to use her voice and to be a voice for others . . . and to grow in her confidence and recognize how wonderful she is."  

As the Flannery family continues to heal, Sophia and Kevin are learning just as much as Shea is. They visited Eugene for the Oregon Country Fair in July, Sophia said, because "healing is our theme right now." 

The Flannerys smile in multi-colored clothes in front of a sign that says Oregon Country Fair.

"You've got to go make [healing] happen for yourself. Some of the things people were saying [at the Oregon Country Fair] were just so beautiful, like going up to the girls and saying 'The fair is only the fair because you're here.' These culture shock amounts of kindness are what we are seeking right now," she said. 

Sachwitz was that source of kindness and care throughout Shea's treatment, and as he stays close with the family and continues watching Shea recover, he hopes she can live life to the fullest. 

"I hope she can now only look forward from here and just be a kid again . . . and forget any of this even happened. I know it's going to be a part of her and her story, and I think there's a power behind that, but I just hope she finds her joy [as] the beautiful little girl she is right now and [then as she] blossoms into a young woman," Sachwitz said. 

Throughout the entire experience, connection as Ducks and the power of community bound the Flannerys, Sachwitz, and Kimball together.  

"Being a Duck is community, and we're all in this together,” Sachwitz said. “We all support each other and we love each other. [Being a Duck] is resiliency. It's bravery. It's love." 

— By Sarah Bathke, BA ’25 (journalism), UO Alumni Association communications generalist