At LMB Online, we want to share Lizelle’s story in her own words, in the hope that together we can help amplify her message.
Our beautiful bay — PE / Gqeberha — is known for its heart, and right now one of our own needs that heart more than ever. Lizelle has launched a Back A Buddy campaign to assist with her life-saving treatment, and we are asking our community to rally around her during this incredibly challenging time.
If you are able to donate, please consider doing so. If you are not in a position to contribute financially, sharing her story could make all the difference.
Lizelle, we are sending you so much love, healing and strength. Please know you are not alone in this fight — your community stands with you.
CT scans have become the “norm” for me ~ after every six cycles of chemo, I need one for my medical aid to approve the next round. You’d think after all these years they’d get easier. They don’t.
My latest one at the beginning of December was just like all the others ~ port needle in, hooked up to contrast, into the tunnel, breathe in, hold your breath, breathe normally, disconnect, needle out, and home.
Only difference this time? Grayson was waiting outside for me.
Three days later, while we were at the beach celebrating his Grade 7 report, my oncologist called. I adore her, but I never like seeing her name come up on my screen.
Heart racing. Hot flush. That split second where you hope it’s fine ~ and brace yourself in case it’s not.
It wasn’t.
The cancer in my liver had progressed significantly despite being on treatment.
The next day I sat in her rooms looking at scans showing new lesions and others that had grown since my last CT. Not quite how I imagined ending the year.
We discussed treatment options ~ two oral, one IV. The best option for me would cost R22 000 per month. We knew it would be a fight with medical aid, but we tried anyway.
Before we could move forward, I opted for a liver biopsy to confirm the lesions were estrogen-receptive, to ensure we were choosing the right treatment.
Motivational letters were sent. Declined.
We applied for the second oral option. Declined again.
Bonitas approved the IV chemo ~ but it isn’t the one that gives me the best long-term outcome.
After exhausting every avenue, including discussions around another liver resection and possible targeted radiation, we landed back where we started:
The oral medication is my best option.
But to access it, I had to upgrade to the highest medical aid plan at an additional R8 500 per month. An amount I simply cannot carry alone.
I applied anyway. And then I waited.
It took almost two weeks for the option change to be processed, despite clearly stating it was urgent and following up every second day. Two weeks of more anxiety, another two weeks without treatment.
The upgrade has finally been approved, and I’m so, so grateful for that small breakthrough.
But we still don’t know how long authorisation for the medication will take, or if it will actually be granted.
In the meantime, I haven’t had any form of chemo since the beginning of December. And the uncertainty about whether the cancer has progressed more is heavy.
Asking for help does not come naturally to me. I’m usually the helper, not the one who gets helped. I’m usually the one rallying, supporting, encouraging. I’ve been putting off sharing this for more than a month, trying to take on extra work to pay the additional monthly amount on my own. I tried to find other ways, shoulder it quietly.
But the reality is, I can’t do this alone.
After a lot of encouragement from the people who love me, I’ve registered my Back-a-Buddy campaign: Help Me Keep Fighting ~ https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/help-me-keep-fighting
I’m not asking for extras. I’m asking for time.
Time to restart treatment. Time to keep living.
Time to keep being Grayson’s mom.
He has always been my WHY. Through every surgery, every setback, every scan, my focus has remained the same ~ being around for him for as long as I possibly can.
With the right treatment, I can keep fighting.
With your help, I can keep being his mom.
If you’re able to donate, from the very deepest place in my heart, THANK YOU.
If you can’t, sharing this means more than you will ever know. 🤍
