Hi, my name is Viktorija and I’m writing this with a heart that feels both shattered and hopeful.

For years, my mum has been the glue that holds our family together—the one who laughs the loudest, gives the warmest hugs, and never lets anyone face a storm alone. Now, *she’s* the one in the storm, and I’m learning how hard it is to ask for help when you’ve always been the helper.

My mum is the kind of person who is forever positive regardless the situation and who’d answer my 2 a.m. calls with a calm, “We’ll figure it out, love.” She’s the woman who taught me resilience, kindness, and how to find joy in small things—like the smell of rain and simple gratitute towards everything.

But last week, our world tilted. After weeks of unexplained fatigue, jaundice, and discomfort that made her wince when she thought no one was looking, we heard the words no family should ever hear: “cholangiocarcinoma”. A rare and aggressive bile duct cancer.

the diagnosis that changed everything..

I still remember sitting in that sterile hospital room, clutching her hand as the doctor spoke. The air felt thick, and time slowed. “Cancer” My mum—the invincible, vibrant soul who danced while doing dishes and sang off-key to her favourite songs—suddenly seemed fragile.

Since then, it’s been a blur of scans, tests and sleepless nights. The woman who once carried groceries now struggles to walk up the stairs.

The treatments she needs - surgery, palliative care, chemotherapy+radiotherapy are overwhelming

Why I’m asking for help..

My pride wants to say, “We’ve got this.” But the truth is, we don’t. bills are piling up. Travel costs for specialist appointments, lost income from taking time off work to care for her, and the sheer cost of *fighting* this disease are more than we can bear alone.

She still has a 13 year old daughter that needs her mum by her side… maybe if we get together we can make sure my mum doesnt have to stress about financially taking her of her child

My mum has spent her life dedicating to family. Now, I’m asking you to help me give back to *her*. To give her the chance to see another sunrise, to laugh at my terrible jokes, to fight this with every ounce of the strength she’s always had.

We don’t know what the future holds, but we’re clinging to hope. With your help, we can focus less on fear and more on making memories—whether that’s one more family dinner, one more walk in the park, or one more chance to say, “I love you.”

If we do manage to donate the big amount, we will be going abroad and looking at different options to prolong and improve her life.

We couldn’t do it without you. I appreciate each and every one of you.

I will be posting an update.

We thank you for reading this.