LITTLETON >> Hanna Gootée woke before sunrise, body hurting, doubt creeping in her mind. How long could she do this? How long would she have to fight against thyroid cancer, and three autoimmune diseases on top of that?

Her eyes were heavy as she made the two-hour drive from Edwards, across snowy Vail Pass, watching the light break over the horizon. But once she walked into Edge Ice Arena and put on her skates, that doubt dissipated.

She had arrived at Hockey Heals, a weekly skate for those who have endured a life-threatening illness, disorder or event. This was her most potent form of therapy. Where she felt alive.

“The important thing I have to remember is I need to show up as I am,” Gootée said. “That’s what gets me here. I don’t care what’s working or what’s not with me on this particular day. If I can just show up and get here, it will change my whole day around.

“When you get diagnosed with something, unfortunately, that’s what it takes for a lot of people to realize how short life is. And when you start to realize how quickly time goes, and how nothing’s promised, you take time for this. You come out here on the ice, and you’re like, ‘Okay, this is actually what I’m living for.’ Hockey Heals gives me purpose behind my day, my week, my life.”

Gootée is one of about 50 players who are involved with the group.

There are cancer, stroke, car-wreck and coma survivors, a burn victim, and five heart transplant recipients, among a multitude of adversity that’s been overcome for some, and is ongoing for others.

The group is a part of DAWG Nation, a nonprofit hockey foundation whose mission is to provide resources and financial support to those in need in the sport’s community.

They meet every Wednesday morning at Edge, where Gootée, a 26-year-old former club hockey captain at Boston University, says the hour-long practice and scrimmage “is something that people intentionally come to, and intentionally hold onto when they leave.”

Hockey Heals began as DAWG Nation’s annual “survivor game,” but it became clear it needed to be a consistent outlet, DAWG Nation CEO Marty Richardson says. So what started as a small shootaround a couple of years ago has grown into a full-scale weekly get-together complete with jerseys and tournament teams.

Richardson predicts Hockey Heals will eventually need multiple weekly sessions at more than one arena to meet the group’s growing numbers.

“There’s a common ground between these players, because only they really know what their other players are going through,” Richardson said. “When someone is down, it’s a huge lift for them to get out on the ice every week with Hockey Heals. And it’s something a hospital or medicine can’t give them.”

Don Coombe falls into that category. The 69-year-old former Arvada Hockey Association coach is a three-time Stage 4 cancer survivor — battles that cost him part of his tongue and his jaw. For that reason, he hasn’t eaten a meal in 13 years, since he underwent a 12-hour surgery that reconstructed his face to remove the cancer.

But you won’t ever catch Coombe wallowing in self-pity at Edge, where he says he’s part of a tight-knit community that “not only makes you want to keep playing, but keep living to the fullest, too.”

“I’m not as handsome as I used to be,” he joked, “but I wanted to fight to stay around for my kids, for my grandkids that I would’ve missed out on. And when I’m out on the ice, I feel the love and the support of the hockey community through all of this.”

It’s that sort of perspective that 62-year-old Dan Turner says “serves as reminders of the goodness in life,” even after a heart attack nearly killed him on the ice. It’s what keeps 8-year-old Porter Johnson cruising around without a care, with the Arvada third-grader declaring he’s going to “play until I’m 90 and can’t walk anymore” just a few years after overcoming leukemia.

Hockey Heals provides these players a place where their battles don’t need to be explained and their setbacks don’t need emphasizing, because everyone has them.

“Every Wednesday morning, I get up at 5 a.m., drive out here and forget about my life struggles for an hour and play hockey,” explained Lucas Vialpando, 28, who has cerebral palsy, but more importantly a knack for scoring from his sled. “That’s it. I’m just one of the guys. … And as a family out here, we’ve seen the ups and downs that life has for everybody in this group. At the end of the day we can turn to each other on the rink and understand that life is going to happen to you whether you want it to or not.”

The Avalanche, long a supporter of DAWG Nation, has taken notice of the collective resiliency of Hockey Heals.

Forward Logan O’Connor has dropped by a practice to skate, as has retired Colorado all-star winger Milan Hejduk, who is an ambassador for the organization. Club president Joe Sakic and longtime captain Gabe Landeskog have also been involved. And Avs head coach Jared Bednar, who’s done plenty to boost DAWG Nation, made time to call Richardson’s brother Nigel last year when the 61-year-old was in the hospital following his heart transplant.

“Sometimes for us people who are healthy, we can get in a bad mood, we can have aches and pains that we overblow,” Milan Hejduk said. “But then when you see what these people are dealing with, it’s a whole different story to realize how tough they are and how determined they are. They’re going through all that and still show up for hockey and their love of the game. It puts life in a completely different perspective for those who don’t have to deal with health issues.”

The Avs’ support continued this week, when four of the six honorees for the club’s Hockey Fights Cancer Night on Thursday at Ball Arena were Hockey Heals players, including Gootée and Coombe. They joined Avs players on the ice and were recognized for their resilience during the pregame announcement for starting lineups. It was a highlight in what’s been an emotionally draining week for the group, as they also attended a fellow player’s celebration of life on Saturday night.

Sarah Karr, whom the Avs honored at last year’s Hockey Fights Cancer night, died Oct. 6 at age 48 from pancreatic cancer. Her death hit the group hard. They Sharpied a heart with her name on the ice at Edge a couple of weeks ago, and honored her with stick taps each time they skated over it.

“Unfortunately, it happens to this group,” Gootée said. “Every single time, it’s a reminder to look around at these faces and remember that we get to be here. And what can we take from our life today?… This group reminds us of the things to celebrate every day. It’s about remembering why we’re here, and that it’s a gift for each one of us to be breathing right now.”

For that reason, Gootée never remembers her stat line, or whether her side won or lost the scrimmage. There’s only one variable that matters to her, before she has to get back to worrying about cancer or how her myriad of other health issues are affecting her body.

“When I get out there, I just want to be smiling,” Gootée said. “I go hard, but I just want the joy.”