A Helping Hand for Amba
Donation protected
This is not something I ever thought I would have to write, and I hope that no one ever has to experience the pain our family has felt in the last 10 days...
On Wednesday 12th August 2020 our family’s world came crashing down, but first there’s some backstory.
My sister Amba had a cancer scare in February 2020 when a colon obstruction turned out to be stage 2 colon cancer. After a grueling 9hr emergency surgery we were told that whilst Amba was lucky to have survived - they felt they were able to remove all of the tumour and that no chemo or further treatment would be required. Recovery was the new priority and with time, life would be able to return to its new normal for Amba, or so we thought.
On August 12th 2020 Amba was to have an oncologist appointment in the afternoon to follow up some small spots that had been incidentally found on her liver during a routine CT scan the previous week. We were so sure that it would just be something simple, an easily explained little cyst or something. Never in our worst nightmares could we have imagined the news that was delivered. That afternoon at just 40 years of age, Amba was diagnosed with Stage 4 Metastatic Colon Cancer which had spread to her liver and both lungs.
Knowing Amba was in her appointment I had my phone on me waiting to hear how it went. The call I received was not from her - but from her oncologist, and all I could hear in the background on the other end of the phone was my beautiful sister hysterically sobbing. As the oncologist told me the news, right there in that moment, a part of my soul was extinguished. The words he spoke rang in my ears. I couldn’t draw breath. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even feel. This wasn’t something I could protect my beautiful sister from, and I knew in my heart that it certainly wasn’t something I could ‘fix’.
That evening we sat quietly together on the lounge, flicking through hospital hand outs with information about chemotherapy, the next steps, the next choices. None of which seemed real. Less than 24hrs ago Amba had been energetically jumping on the trampoline with my two boys as she so often did - her two nephews are the absolute lights of her life. Those boys worship the ground Amba walks on - and the feeling is very much mutual. When the time came to discuss Aunty Amba’s diagnosis with the boys, I was brought to my knees. That’s not a conversation I ever thought we’d have to have.
I feel like we always try to raise our children to believe the best of the world. We try to teach them that when you do good things, good things happen to you; that for the most part the world is just and fair and that things have a way of working out. But this situation is different. It’s not ok. No part of this is fair. This is just one of those absolutely horrific times that a very terrible thing is happening to a good person... a wonderful, kind, caring, loving and selfless person... a person who deserves all the great things that life has to offer, and none of the bad. But unfortunately what we deserve in life and what we receive can be so very different it would appear.
Whilst I cannot take away the cancer from Amba’s body, one of the things I CAN do is try my hardest to ensure that financial stress won’t add to Amba’s worries. With chemotherapy comes debilitating side effects, with side effects comes the inability to work, and with that comes the stresses of how to pay a mortgage and simply afford the bare necessities of life. No one in Amba’s position should have to consider how it is that they will afford to live. Amba’s focus needs to be on fighting for her life, which is why I am organising this fundraiser for her. Every single cent that is donated to this campaign will go directly to Amba and her costs of living.
For those of you who know Amba personally, you would know that she never asks for a thing from anyone. She is the giver. The selfless one. The one who adds value to every single life that she touches - and doesn’t ask for a thing in return... that’s why I’m asking for her.
This sister of mine is one in a million and on behalf of our entire family I thank you from the bottom of my heart for any words of encouragement, prayers/well wishes and any donation no matter how small.
Amba is going to fight this with every thing she has, and we will be with her every step of the way.
Lastly - PLEASE speak with your GP if you have any concerns regarding your bowel health or a change in bowel habits. Cancer does not discriminate.
On Wednesday 12th August 2020 our family’s world came crashing down, but first there’s some backstory.
My sister Amba had a cancer scare in February 2020 when a colon obstruction turned out to be stage 2 colon cancer. After a grueling 9hr emergency surgery we were told that whilst Amba was lucky to have survived - they felt they were able to remove all of the tumour and that no chemo or further treatment would be required. Recovery was the new priority and with time, life would be able to return to its new normal for Amba, or so we thought.
On August 12th 2020 Amba was to have an oncologist appointment in the afternoon to follow up some small spots that had been incidentally found on her liver during a routine CT scan the previous week. We were so sure that it would just be something simple, an easily explained little cyst or something. Never in our worst nightmares could we have imagined the news that was delivered. That afternoon at just 40 years of age, Amba was diagnosed with Stage 4 Metastatic Colon Cancer which had spread to her liver and both lungs.
Knowing Amba was in her appointment I had my phone on me waiting to hear how it went. The call I received was not from her - but from her oncologist, and all I could hear in the background on the other end of the phone was my beautiful sister hysterically sobbing. As the oncologist told me the news, right there in that moment, a part of my soul was extinguished. The words he spoke rang in my ears. I couldn’t draw breath. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even feel. This wasn’t something I could protect my beautiful sister from, and I knew in my heart that it certainly wasn’t something I could ‘fix’.
That evening we sat quietly together on the lounge, flicking through hospital hand outs with information about chemotherapy, the next steps, the next choices. None of which seemed real. Less than 24hrs ago Amba had been energetically jumping on the trampoline with my two boys as she so often did - her two nephews are the absolute lights of her life. Those boys worship the ground Amba walks on - and the feeling is very much mutual. When the time came to discuss Aunty Amba’s diagnosis with the boys, I was brought to my knees. That’s not a conversation I ever thought we’d have to have.
I feel like we always try to raise our children to believe the best of the world. We try to teach them that when you do good things, good things happen to you; that for the most part the world is just and fair and that things have a way of working out. But this situation is different. It’s not ok. No part of this is fair. This is just one of those absolutely horrific times that a very terrible thing is happening to a good person... a wonderful, kind, caring, loving and selfless person... a person who deserves all the great things that life has to offer, and none of the bad. But unfortunately what we deserve in life and what we receive can be so very different it would appear.
Whilst I cannot take away the cancer from Amba’s body, one of the things I CAN do is try my hardest to ensure that financial stress won’t add to Amba’s worries. With chemotherapy comes debilitating side effects, with side effects comes the inability to work, and with that comes the stresses of how to pay a mortgage and simply afford the bare necessities of life. No one in Amba’s position should have to consider how it is that they will afford to live. Amba’s focus needs to be on fighting for her life, which is why I am organising this fundraiser for her. Every single cent that is donated to this campaign will go directly to Amba and her costs of living.
For those of you who know Amba personally, you would know that she never asks for a thing from anyone. She is the giver. The selfless one. The one who adds value to every single life that she touches - and doesn’t ask for a thing in return... that’s why I’m asking for her.
This sister of mine is one in a million and on behalf of our entire family I thank you from the bottom of my heart for any words of encouragement, prayers/well wishes and any donation no matter how small.
Amba is going to fight this with every thing she has, and we will be with her every step of the way.
Lastly - PLEASE speak with your GP if you have any concerns regarding your bowel health or a change in bowel habits. Cancer does not discriminate.
Organizer
Rebecca Hemmingway
Organizer
Bar Beach NSW
