Hi, my name is Anja. I am 41 years old, a mother of three, and for more than twelve years I have been fighting cancer. Asking people for help is still one of the hardest things for me to do, because how do you explain what another year of your life is worth? How do you put a price on another birthday with your children, another Christmas morning, another holiday, or simply another completely ordinary Tuesday where nobody has to think about cancer? But that is what I am fighting for: more time. More time to be a mother, to watch my children grow, to annoy them, embarrass them, hug them, argue with them, laugh with them and be there when they need me. More memories that have absolutely nothing to do with hospitals, treatments, scans or cancer.

I have Stage 4 spinal osteosarcoma, an aggressive bone cancer. Over the past twelve years, my body has been through countless treatments and surgeries, including my 20th surgery in 2025. Today, my body is trying to function without 65% of my intestines, a hysterectomy, also while dealing with recurring blood clots and everything else years of illness and treatment have left behind. I now permanently walk with a cane and have lesser or even limited movement in all extremeties. There have been moments when we received better news and dared to hope, and moments when everything came crashing down again. Cancer has taken pieces of my body, my health, my independence, my energy and far too much time from me.

But those twelve years were not twelve years spent waiting to die. I worked. I raised my children. I built things, started over, kept households and lives running, rescued dogs and other animals, and tried to be the person people around me could turn to when they needed help. For so much of my life, I have been the one supporting everyone else, even during the years when my own body was fighting just to keep going. I don't say that because I think it makes me more deserving of help than anyone else. I say it because cancer is only one part of who I am. I have spent so many years trying to take care of the people and animals around me... and now I have reached a point where I have to admit that I need people to help take care of me too.

I was given the opportunity to undergo a specialized treatment combining Nanobot TB-PET therapy with radionuclide treatment, with a total cost of €145,300. It is an overwhelming amount of money, but we never simply waited for donations to cover it. Alongside the incredible support this fundraiser has received, we have been paying €1,000 every month ourselves toward the treatment. This is also why the remaining amount has continued to decrease beyond the donations shown on this page. Most importantly, there have been signs that continuing this fight matters: my latest results showed improvement in my metastases. It does not mean that I am cured or that the fight is over, but after everything my body has been through, improvement means hope. It means there is still something worth fighting for.

Above everything else, I am fighting because I am a mother of three. When you are living with Stage 4 cancer, you begin asking questions no parent should have to ask. Will I see the next birthday? Will I be there for that milestone? Have I taken enough pictures? Have I said everything I need to say? Have I made enough memories with my children that, if one day I am no longer sitting beside them, they will still know beyond any doubt how completely their mother loved them? I cannot promise my children that I will beat cancer. I wish more than anything that I could. What I can promise them is that I will not willingly give up time that I could still have with them.

That is ultimately what your donation gives me. Yes, financially it helps pay for treatment, but to me it represents something much more human: time. Maybe another birthday, another summer, another Christmas, another morning when my youngest climbs into my bed far too early, another important conversation with my daughters, or simply another boring evening together that nobody thinks to photograph because it feels completely ordinary. I don't need every remaining day of my life to be extraordinary. I just want more of them.

If you are able to donate, no amount is too small. And if donating isn't possible, sharing this fundraiser can help more than you may realize. To everyone who has already donated, shared my story, sent a message, supported me or simply stopped for a moment to think about my family: Thank YOU. I know that on the internet €5, €20, €100 and a fundraising progress bar can easily become just numbers on a screen. But behind this particular progress bar is a mother counting something very different... days. And I am incredibly grateful for every additional one you can help me fight for.

With love,

Anja