“We’re just trying to get our daughter home.” 

That’s the simple, aching truth Krystal VanderBrugghen lives with each day. Her youngest child, Veya, has never known home. For the past 18 months, Veya has been a patient in hospital — first at McMaster Children’s Hospital in Hamilton, then at The Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto (SickKids), and back again — a back-and-forth medical journey defined by complexity, uncertainty, and unwavering hope. 

Born with Down syndrome and a critical cardiac defect, Veya nearly lost her life in March 2024. Thanks to a successful heart surgery at SickKids, she survived. But just three weeks later, new and baffling liver complications emerged. Despite tireless effort from her care team, no clear diagnosis has come, and treatment options have run out. Her doctors now believe a liver transplant may be the only path forward — one she’s currently too fragile to endure. 

And so, her parents Krystal and Jeremy, along with big sisters Ivylee, Irelyn, and little brother Lincoln, wait. Hopeful. Exhausted. Longing. 

“We just want to be together, at home, living life as a family again,” Krystal says. “But for now, we do what we can. And that includes being here, at Ronald McDonald House Toronto.” 

Finding Shelter in the Storm 

When Veya was born, the VanderBrugghens were thrust into a new world of medical urgency and emotional upheaval. Hailing from Caledonia, Ontario — more than 100 kilometers from Toronto — they were suddenly living between hospital wards and highways, far from everything familiar. 

“We didn’t know what was coming next,” Krystal recalls. “One minute we were reeling from her birth, the next we were trying to plan how to stay near her in another city.” 

They first encountered Ronald McDonald House during a brief stay in Hamilton. So when Veya’s care transferred to SickKids, Krystal already knew where she needed to be — and thankfully, RMHC Toronto had space. 

“We stepped through the door and instantly felt at ease,” she says. “There was a warm meal. A real bed. People who understood.” 

More Than a Roof 

Since July 2024, Ronald McDonald House Toronto has been like a home when the VanderBrugghen family can’t be at home. It’s not an easy life — they are still living a medical emergency, day after day. But it is a more bearable one. 
 
“It’s not just the meals or the roof over your head,” Krystal explains. “It’s the kindness. The understanding. The way the staff seem to know what you need before you even say it.” 

There are moments of light amid the chaos. On weekends, when the older kids join Krystal and Jeremy in Toronto, they dive into Halloween cookie decorating and Christmas crafts. They form friendships in the common areas and find comfort in familiar routines — even if only for a couple of days. 
 
“Those weekends together mean everything,” Krystal says. “That’s when we get to be a family again — to laugh, to play, to just feel normal for a little while.” 

And for Krystal, small gestures have made a world of difference. 
 
“When the nail techs come in, it’s amazing,” she smiles. “As a mom, you forget to do anything for yourself. Those visits gave me back a bit of myself.” 

There’s also Chef Michael, whose nourishing meals three times a week have become a cherished part of their rhythm. “Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday — we always look forward to his dinners. He’s a blessing.” 

Weathering the Long Journey 

Veya’s road to health is still unfolding, and the road is steep. Each day brings new updates, new fears, new hope. 

“We’ve been here for so long,” Krystal says. “And yes, there have been beautiful moments. But also days we felt like we were breaking. The burnout is real. The emotional toll… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.” 

To keep life as normal as possible for their older children, Ivylee, Irelyn, and Lincoln stay home during the week with a nanny and attend their own school. Krystal and Jeremy rotate weeks, taking turns being with Veya in Toronto. It’s a delicate balance — one parent always away, one parent always missed. 

“It’s hard on them,” Krystal says. “They miss us when we’re apart. But we try to keep their lives steady — same school, same routines. And they really look forward to the weekends, because that’s when we’re all together again as a family.” 

In the summer, when school is out, the family is able to spend more time together in Toronto — a rare and treasured reprieve. 

“This house gives us a bit of normalcy,” Krystal says. “It allows us to still be a family, even in the middle of a medical crisis. If we had to drive back and forth every day — two hours each way — I can’t even imagine the stress. Financially, emotionally, it just wouldn’t be possible.” 

Instead, they’ve found something else: community. 

“We’ve made lifelong friends here. People who get it. Families who check in, lift us up, let us fall apart when we need to.” She pauses. “Some have gone home now, but they still come back to visit. They fill our cups.” 

A Place That Changes Everything 

For the VanderBrugghens, Ronald McDonald House Toronto is more than a place to sleep. It’s a sanctuary. A stabilizer. A community. It’s the reason they can remain close to Veya — to sing to her, to hold her hand, to advocate for her when it matters most. 

“Without RMHC Toronto, I truly cannot imagine what this past year and a half would have been like for our family,” Krystal says. “This place has been our solace during the most difficult time in our lives.” 

It is donors who make this care possible — the warm meals, the programs for children, the onsite school, the support networks. 

“You gave us more than a place to stay,” Krystal says quietly. “You gave us hope.” 

… 

There are thousands of families like the VanderBrugghens, navigating life-altering diagnoses far from home. Each one arrives with a story. Each one needs a place to land. 

And each one deserves to be together.