My name is Annetta, and Natasha (also known as Natalia) is my mum.

I live in Denmark with my husband and our two young daughters. When I received the call that Mum had taken a turn for the worse, I flew back to Australia immediately. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing her like this.

She is still my mum, but cancer has already taken so much from her.

Mum was first diagnosed with breast cancer in January 2013. She underwent surgery and chemotherapy and was in remission for five years. In January 2018, the cancer returned, and since then she has fought relentlessly with surgeries, natural and alternative remedies, radiation, hormone therapy, and eight different chemotherapy treatments.

Three years ago, we learned the cancer had spread to her brain. In January 2026, we were told it had also spread to her liver and lungs. Three weeks ago, Mum had surgery on her left lung. She has now exhausted all conventional treatment options available to her in Australia.

Without further intervention, doctors have told us she has approximately four months to live.

Mum is at home in Mackay, Queensland. She is deeply tired, her arms and legs are weak but she is still herself. Still present. Still fighting.

Who My Mum Is

My mum is a fighter in every sense of the word.

She was born and raised in Kyiv, Ukraine (then part of the former USSR), where life was already difficult. She fell in love with my dad, Davy, who had come from Zambia to study there. Together, they chose each other and built a life from nothing: three different times, in three different countries.

After living in Sydney, Australia for 27 years, they moved to Mackay, where they built a community and a life filled with love, even when things weren’t easy.

Mum is the kind of person who makes everyone feel welcome, seen, and cared for. She loves life - the adventures, the laughter, and most of all, time with the people she loves.

And There Is My Dad

My dad Davy is, in my mum's own words, her soul mate.

He buys her flowers, takes her for gentle walks along the beach, and tells her he loves her every day. He is kind, romantic, funny, and endlessly devoted. Even now, he finds ways to make her laugh. He also adores their little mini poodle, Zimba, who is rarely far from Mum’s side.

Mum’s greatest pain is the thought of leaving Dad behind.

“He does not deserve this,” she told me. “He is a very good man with a very good heart.”

She is fighting, in no small part, for him.

One Remaining Option

As a last resort, we have been referred to an immunotherapy treatment called Supportive Oligonucleotide Therapy (SOT), administered through a clinic in Greece.

The treatment does not require travel. A blood sample is taken here in Australia, sent to Greece, and the personalised treatment is returned as an injection. Two treatment cycles are needed.

The total cost is AUD $28,000:

• $23,000 for the two treatment cycles

• $5,000 for immediate care and practical support at home

Dad works full-time and is Mum’s sole carer: managing appointments, household responsibilities, and providing constant care while carrying the emotional weight of what they are facing together.

To begin the first treatment immediately, he must withdraw from his pension - the very money he will need to live on.

We cannot let him carry this burden alone.

What It Means to Ask From Afar

Being on the other side of the world is one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. Every decision becomes impossible - fly home to be physically present, or send money instead to help fund Mum’s care.

Soon, I will have to return to Denmark, to my husband, my daughters, and my job, leaving Australia without knowing how Mum and Dad will manage day to day.

I am asking for help to carry some of that weight.

What Mum Wants

Mum has a deep and genuine will to live.

She wants more time with my daughters. More mornings with Dad. More walks on the beach. More laughter with friends. More moments where she feels well enough to truly live the life she loves.

This treatment offers the possibility of more time.

Every donation goes directly to giving Natasha that chance.

If you’re able to donate, we will be deeply grateful. If you’re not, please consider sharing this fundraiser so it can reach others who may be able to help.

 

To protect Mum’s privacy, we have chosen not to share detailed medical records publicly on this page. However, if anyone would like reassurance or verification regarding Mum’s diagnosis and situation, you are very welcome to contact us directly.

I can be reached on +45 29 41 29 42, or my dad, Davy Chileshe, can be reached on +61 (0)431 777 779. Both numbers are available via WhatsApp. We are more than happy to answer questions privately and provide reassurance where needed.

 

Thank you for taking the time to read our story, and for any kindness you can offer.

With love and gratitude,

Annetta