Hearts and Helmets
Uniting first responder and healthcare families navigating cancer with a special focus on their children building a compassionate community where no child faces this journey alone.
Ways to Support children when their family is navigating cancer
Maintain routine, validate their feelings, and peer support.
How to Talk to Your Child About Cancer
Be honest in communicating with them
The Impact of Cancer on Families
Anxiety and depression, isolation, physical strain, loss of income, expensive medical costs, and behavioral changes along with fear and confusion in children.
About Us
Hi, we’re Nicolas and Natalie Juarez. We met working together in the ER at a hospital in Downtown Fort Worth, where we spent four years side by side. I’m a full-time firefighter/paramedic, and my wife, Natalie, is an ER nurse.
Our journey began when Natalie started feeling some uncomfortable pain in her lower abdomen. At first, we didn’t think much of it—she assumed it was just something minor or another common issue. Over time, the pain became more intense accompanied by occasional bouts of bloating. After consulting her doctor, we proceeded with an ultrasound, which revealed three masses. The following week, a transvaginal ultrasound was conducted to confirm their presence. To err on the side of caution, we were referred to a gynecologic oncologist to evaluate the possibility of cancer. While the doctor wasn’t certain, he recommended a specialist handle the surgery in case the masses turned out to be malignant.
When we met with the oncologist, he explained that the surgery would need to be sooner than later. He informed us that during the procedure, a bioposy would be taken within the first 15 minutes to determine if the masses were cancreous. In the meantime, Natalie was experiencing continued pain in her abdomen but now affecting her bladder as well. The entire situation felt overwhelming, but we were doing our best to stay focused and hold onto hope.
After the surgery, once Natalie was in recovery, we met with the oncologist to discuss how it went. He assured us that the procedure was successful and that he had removed all the masses. However, the news that followed changed everything—the masses were cancerous. In that instant, our world was turned upside down, and the fear of the unknown hit us hard.
Two weeks later, we met with the oncologist to discuss Natalie’s treatment plan. She would undergo six rounds of chemotherapy, each lasting seven hours and spaced three weeks apart. Until then, we had been so focused on the surgery and her recovery that the full weight of her cancer diagnosis hadn’t sunk in. But at the next visit, reality set in—Natalie’s hair had completely fallen out soon after her first chemotherapy session, a stark reminder of just how serious this journey was.
The following eighteen weeks were intensely challenging. We lost nearly half our income and faced the emotional and financial burdens of Natalie’s treatment. Despite these hardships, we prioritized maintaining a sense of normalcy for our 13-year-old daughter at home, who was also navigating the weight of this journey. Thankfully, we were blessed with a strong support system from our families and community. The overwhelming love and care we received gave us the strength to keep going.
For the past three years, I've been involved with a nonprofit called Stronger Together Texas, which brings together firefighters from across the DFW area to raise funds for breast cancer awareness and provide resources for cancer patients through Bras for a Cause. This past year, the support from my fellow firefighters and Stronger Together Texas was overwhelming, and it had a profound impact on us. That experience ignited something in me—a desire to pay it forward and help others facing their own struggles. We wanted to be part of something bigger, a cause that offers hope, strength, and the reassurance that no one is ever truly alone.
During this time, we noticed something crucial: there were limited resources available for our daughter. While we made sure to check in with her and ensure she was okay, we realized how important it was for her to have a space where she could express herself and connect with other kids facing similar challenges. What about the children who don’t have an outlet or don’t feel comfortable sharing their feelings?
That’s when Hearts and Helmets: Juarez Heroes for Kids was born. For Natalie and me, going to the gym has always been a way to destress, but I started wondering, what about our daughter? Outside of school volleyball and club volleyball, how was she managing everything emotionally? And what about other kids who might not have those outlets? What about those who feel isolated or don’t know how to cope with their emotions?
I knew we needed to create a compassionate community for these kids. A place where they could meet others who are going through the same struggles and know that they are not alone. As a wounded warrior alumni, I’ve seen how group therapy can make a difference. I wanted to bring those same tools and resources to children—so they could feel empowered and supported through their own challenges.
Through Hearts and Helmets, we hope to provide kids with the care and community they need to heal, grow, and know they are not alone in their journey. This is just the beginning, and we are committed to helping as many children as we can—together.
Our journey began when Natalie started feeling some uncomfortable pain in her lower abdomen. At first, we didn’t think much of it—she assumed it was just something minor or another common issue. Over time, the pain became more intense accompanied by occasional bouts of bloating. After consulting her doctor, we proceeded with an ultrasound, which revealed three masses. The following week, a transvaginal ultrasound was conducted to confirm their presence. To err on the side of caution, we were referred to a gynecologic oncologist to evaluate the possibility of cancer. While the doctor wasn’t certain, he recommended a specialist handle the surgery in case the masses turned out to be malignant.
When we met with the oncologist, he explained that the surgery would need to be sooner than later. He informed us that during the procedure, a bioposy would be taken within the first 15 minutes to determine if the masses were cancreous. In the meantime, Natalie was experiencing continued pain in her abdomen but now affecting her bladder as well. The entire situation felt overwhelming, but we were doing our best to stay focused and hold onto hope.
After the surgery, once Natalie was in recovery, we met with the oncologist to discuss how it went. He assured us that the procedure was successful and that he had removed all the masses. However, the news that followed changed everything—the masses were cancerous. In that instant, our world was turned upside down, and the fear of the unknown hit us hard.
Two weeks later, we met with the oncologist to discuss Natalie’s treatment plan. She would undergo six rounds of chemotherapy, each lasting seven hours and spaced three weeks apart. Until then, we had been so focused on the surgery and her recovery that the full weight of her cancer diagnosis hadn’t sunk in. But at the next visit, reality set in—Natalie’s hair had completely fallen out soon after her first chemotherapy session, a stark reminder of just how serious this journey was.
The following eighteen weeks were intensely challenging. We lost nearly half our income and faced the emotional and financial burdens of Natalie’s treatment. Despite these hardships, we prioritized maintaining a sense of normalcy for our 13-year-old daughter at home, who was also navigating the weight of this journey. Thankfully, we were blessed with a strong support system from our families and community. The overwhelming love and care we received gave us the strength to keep going.
For the past three years, I've been involved with a nonprofit called Stronger Together Texas, which brings together firefighters from across the DFW area to raise funds for breast cancer awareness and provide resources for cancer patients through Bras for a Cause. This past year, the support from my fellow firefighters and Stronger Together Texas was overwhelming, and it had a profound impact on us. That experience ignited something in me—a desire to pay it forward and help others facing their own struggles. We wanted to be part of something bigger, a cause that offers hope, strength, and the reassurance that no one is ever truly alone.
During this time, we noticed something crucial: there were limited resources available for our daughter. While we made sure to check in with her and ensure she was okay, we realized how important it was for her to have a space where she could express herself and connect with other kids facing similar challenges. What about the children who don’t have an outlet or don’t feel comfortable sharing their feelings?
That’s when Hearts and Helmets: Juarez Heroes for Kids was born. For Natalie and me, going to the gym has always been a way to destress, but I started wondering, what about our daughter? Outside of school volleyball and club volleyball, how was she managing everything emotionally? And what about other kids who might not have those outlets? What about those who feel isolated or don’t know how to cope with their emotions?
I knew we needed to create a compassionate community for these kids. A place where they could meet others who are going through the same struggles and know that they are not alone. As a wounded warrior alumni, I’ve seen how group therapy can make a difference. I wanted to bring those same tools and resources to children—so they could feel empowered and supported through their own challenges.
Through Hearts and Helmets, we hope to provide kids with the care and community they need to heal, grow, and know they are not alone in their journey. This is just the beginning, and we are committed to helping as many children as we can—together.