Help Lena and Her Daughter Fight for Their Lives

Help Lena and Her Daughter Fight for Their Lives

Lena, a hardworking mother and domestic helper, is fighting cancer for the third time—while her daughter urgently needs brain surgery. They’ve given everything. Now, we ask for your help to give them a chance to heal.

Hi everyone,

I’m fundraising for Maria Elena Narag Macababbad - a woman I’ve known since I was 16. Lena is funny, kind, endlessly caring, and a true example of resilience personified. For years, Lena has worked as a domestic helper in Hong Kong, sending everything she earned to her family back in the Philippines, even while battling cancer without their knowledge.

Today, in 2025, she faces her third round of chemotherapy - but this time, she’s not the only one in her family who’s sick. Her daughter has just been diagnosed with fluid in her lower brain, requiring an urgent and costly surgery and rehabilitation process. On their own, Lena and her family cannot afford the treatments she and her daughter need to survive.

So I’m turning to GoFundMe to ask you - on behalf of this incredible woman and her brave daughter - to please give what you can.

Her Eldest Daughter’s Words: “The Days She Fought for Me”

“Before the cancer my mom was everything: the funniest woman, a joyful mother, and the most caring grandmother to my child. She has always put us first, before herself. She worked abroad, alone, to support us and never complained.

Until 2 years ago. On August 9th 2023 she came home barely able to walk. It was the first time I had seen her in years, She was still hiding her pain, but her body had given up. Seeing the strongest woman I know at her weakest point, crushed me.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2017, after which she was lucky to achieve remission. Until 2022 when the cancer came back - this time in her lungs, liver and bones. This time she didn’t tell us at first, even though it became painful for her to walk, let alone work. But she pushed on, She just kept working to support our family.

When she finally had the courage to tell us, we felt daggers in our hearts. She came home and she cried. We cried with her because we felt the weight of her sorrow. She was finally with us, and she coudln’t enjoy it. She couldn’t carry her grandchild. Couldn’t dance. She could barely move.

Still, she fought. She underwent chemotherapy again, and I dropped out of school so she wouldn’t worry about my tuition. I told her: your life is more important. Her employer helped where they could, even keeping her job active so we could receive a salary. But it still wasn’t enough.

Eventually, we had to move her to a public hospital. I started working too, but her condition worsened. A 3-inch tumor grew in her lungs. Her liver was covered in cancer. One doctor told us there was no hope.

But my mom refused to give up. We transferred her back to her original doctor, and she began chemo for a third time.

Then came more devastating news: my younger sister has water in her lower brain. She needs a delicate operation and long-term medication. We are overwhelmed. My father and I take care of both of them, but we can’t keep steady jobs. We’ve tried everything—even asking the government for help—but it’s not enough.

I’m terrified of losing them. I hear my mother cry in pain, see her hair fall, and watch her cough nonstop from the tumor. My 3-year-old child asks, ‘Why won’t Grandma stand up and dance with me?’ It breaks us.”

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