Iga’s Story – Our Brave Little Warrior
Today was supposed to be the day radiotherapy began. We had prepared ourselves, gathered every ounce of strength, and most importantly, our daughter, Iga, was ready.
At 3:00 in the afternoon, she received her very first dose of chemotherapy, taken orally. She did it with a courage that needed no words, with the silent determination of a child who has already faced too much.
And then there was the green mask. When she put it on, she looked like Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy — fast, agile, fearless, with a heart larger than the universe itself. That mask is not just a medical tool; it is her armor. It is pressed against her face, her neck, and her chest, built with precision so that the radiation beams can strike exactly where they need to — down to the millimeter. Starting on August 4th, radiotherapy will begin, and every session will be a fight.
But if the mask is her armor, then we, her family, must be her shield — stronger even than Captain America’s. And here is the truth: every donation is a weapon in her fight. Every share of her story is another warrior by her side. Every word of support is a force of strength. Because armor only works when it is backed by an army of hearts.
The Day Everything Changed
May 27th, 2025, is a date etched into our lives forever. That was the day our world was divided into “before” and “after.”
It was an ordinary day. Iga, our six-year-old daughter, was visiting her cousins, laughing and playing as children do. Then suddenly, she collapsed. One moment, she was full of life, and the next, she was unconscious. Panic set in as we rushed to her side, calling her name, shaking her tiny hands, begging her to wake up.
The ambulance came quickly, sirens blaring, and carried her to the hospital in Międzyrzecz. From there, she was transferred to Nowa Sól. We clung to each other, terrified, praying for good news. But the following morning, May 28th, we heard words no parent should ever have to hear:
“brain tumor.”
The Surgery
Iga was immediately transferred to Zdroje Hospital in Szczecin. The days that followed were a blur of tests, scans, and consultations. Neurosurgeons examined her case and, after careful consideration, decided that surgery was the only option.
On June 13th, the operation took place. We spent endless hours outside the operating room, pacing the hallway, our hearts breaking with every passing minute. Time seemed to stop. Then finally, the surgeon emerged. His words gave us a fragile ray of hope: “The tumor has been removed in its entirety.”
Tears flowed down our faces as relief washed over us. For the first time since that horrible day in May, we allowed ourselves to breathe. Slowly, Iga began her recovery. She started rehabilitation, working hard to regain her strength. Each smile, each small movement, each step forward was a gift. We dared to hope that perhaps the worst was behind us.
The Cruel Truth
But on June 26th, everything crumbled once again.
The histopathology results came back. The diagnosis was merciless: glioblastoma multiforme — one of the most aggressive and deadly forms of brain cancer.
The ground beneath us collapsed. How could this be? How could our bright, beautiful, six-year-old daughter be facing something so devastating? We could barely breathe under the weight of it.
And yet, in that moment of despair, we also felt a spark of defiance. Because when the battle is for your child’s life, you do not give up. You fight. You fight with everything you have.
The Fight Ahead
Iga’s journey is far from over. The surgery was only the first step. Now, chemotherapy and radiotherapy await. Her tumor sample is being sent to Germany for further analysis, as we search desperately for the best possible treatment options, both in Poland and abroad. We are consulting specialists, looking into clinical trials, and considering therapies unavailable here at home.
The costs are staggering. Every consultation, every potential treatment abroad, every round of therapy comes with a price far beyond what any ordinary family can bear. But time is not on our side. Glioblastoma is relentless, and every day matters.
Who Iga Is
Iga is only six years old. She is still so little — tender, playful, sensitive, and full of life. She dreams of becoming a teacher someday. She talks about wanting a dog, about traveling to see the world. She has a heart so big that it seems impossible it could fit into her tiny body.
She should be running through playgrounds, drawing with crayons, and playing pretend with her friends. Instead, she is lying in hospital beds, wearing masks and receiving treatments most adults would struggle to endure.
And yet, she faces it all with incredible bravery. She smiles, she laughs, she fights. She is our little superhero, stronger than anyone we have ever known.
Our Plea
As her parents, we are doing everything we can. But we cannot do this alone. We need help.
Every euro, every zloty, every donation goes directly to her fight — to treatments, to rehabilitation, to giving her the chance at a future. Every share of her story helps us reach another heart that might join our army. Every prayer, every kind word, gives us the strength to keep going.
This is not just about money. It is about hope. About standing with a little girl who deserves the chance to grow up, to chase her dreams, to live.
Iga is more than her diagnosis. She is our daughter, our miracle, our whole world. And right now, her life depends on the kindness and support of others.
From the depths of our hearts, we thank you — for reading her story, for caring, for every gesture of support. With your help, we can give Iga a chance at life, a chance at tomorrow, a chance to be a child again.
“Ola’s Fight: From Amputation to Miracles in Her Battle Against Cancer”.1960
Ola’s Journey: Fighting Cancer, Embracing Life, and Dreaming of the Future
We come today to share new updates about our beloved daughter Ola’s health. And you truly have to believe us when we say—so much has happened in the last months that it feels like a lifetime of ups and downs. There have been moments of despair, sleepless nights, flashes of hope, and even small miracles that we cling to with all our hearts.
But let us start from the beginning.
Pain After Amputation
Two weeks after Ola’s leg amputation, something unexpected happened. She began to suffer from intense phantom pain—so strong and unbearable that even morphine could not bring relief. The pain made it nearly impossible for her to function, and sleep became a distant memory.
For three long months, our family hardly slept. Night after night, we listened to our daughter cry out in pain, sometimes screaming, sometimes howling in ways no child should ever have to. We cried with her, helpless, watching our little girl endure suffering no parent would wish on their worst enemy.
But then, slowly, by what we truly believe was God’s mercy, the pain faded. One day, Ola woke up and for the first time in months, she didn’t need strong painkillers. We began to taper off the medications, and eventually, she no longer needed them at all. Our house filled with joy again. After so much darkness, it felt like light was finally returning.
A Setback on Her Birthday
Just as life seemed brighter, another obstacle arrived. On Ola’s 13th birthday, instead of celebrating with friends, cake, and laughter, we found ourselves rushing her to the hospital.
A bacterial infection had developed in the stump of her amputated leg. She was taken into the operating room again, where doctors stitched her wound, placed a catheter, and started her on strong antibiotics. Once more, she had to start recovery from scratch.
It was devastating—but Ola, in her quiet strength, faced it bravely.
Signs of Hope
Despite these challenges, there have been moments of joy that gave us the strength to continue. At that time, routine check-ups showed something remarkable: Ola’s cancer was shrinking. The metastases in her lungs were smaller, and the fluid around her lungs and heart had disappeared.
Then came even greater news. In May, after another CT scan, PET scan, and MRI, doctors told us something we hardly dared to hope for: the metastases in her second leg—the femur—had died. It was as if the cancer had been turned off. Only two tiny, one-centimeter lesions remained in her left lung.
To anyone else, this might sound small. But to us, who had once seen her lungs completely covered in tumors—some as large as six centimeters—it was a miracle. Her doctors said her pleura (the lining of the lungs) had once looked like it was “wallpapered” with cancer, but now, unbelievably, there was nothing left.
We were filled with faith again, believing that life was smiling upon us once more.
Radiotherapy and Rest
The medical team decided Ola should undergo two weeks of radiotherapy targeting her lungs. Afterward, we had a short but precious time to rest in Masuria, surrounded by nature, breathing deeply for the first time in what felt like forever.
And then came the news we had dreamed of: at her most recent check-up, doctors confirmed there were no metastases left in her lungs. None. It felt like a victory, a glimpse of freedom. We are still waiting for the PET scan to confirm this result, but our hearts are bursting with cautious joy.
What Lies Ahead
Of course, this is not the end of Ola’s journey. Soon she will undergo an autologous stem cell transplant—a procedure where her own stem cells are collected and then returned after high-dose chemotherapy. This treatment will greatly increase her chances of long-term remission, reducing the risk of the cancer coming back.
Right now, she is still on oral chemotherapy tablets, and before the transplant, she will receive what doctors call “mega-chemotherapy.” For the next month, our home will be the hospital once again.
A New Leg, A New Beginning
But in the middle of all this, a moment of indescribable joy arrived. Ola received her very first prosthetic leg—a test model, borrowed just to see how she would adapt.
And you won’t believe it: within days, she was walking without crutches.
Her determination is unmatched. With every exercise, every step in rehabilitation, she pushes herself forward. She is learning to walk again, slowly but surely. And one day, after all the pain, she looked at her mother and said:
“Mom, I love my life again.”
We wept when we heard those words. After everything, after endless nights of pain and fear, to hear her embrace life again—it was priceless.
Gratitude Beyond Words
We cannot describe the depth of our gratitude. To the doctors who have saved her countless times, to the nurses who care for her with empathy and tenderness, to every single donor who has sent money, messages, or prayers—thank you.
Every kind word we receive gives us strength. Every donation, no matter how small, becomes part of the miracle keeping our daughter alive. We are surrounded by incredible people, and for that, we will be forever grateful.
Preparing for the Future
You may have noticed that our fundraising goal has increased. The reason is simple: after many months of fighting cancer, we know that nothing is certain. Right now, things are good—but cancer can return when least expected.
If it does, we want to be ready. The cost of a “last chance” treatment could be as high as 1.2 million złotys. We cannot take the risk of being unprepared.
We are also raising funds for a specialized prosthetic leg. Ola dreams of returning to sports. Before her illness, she played football with passion. She cannot wait to run onto the field again, to cycle, to climb stairs without fear.
But advanced prosthetics cost hundreds of thousands of złotys. And Ola is only 13 years old—she is still growing, which means she will need new prosthetics again and again as she matures.
A Request From the Heart
Dear friends, we ask you to stay with us. Continue following Ola’s story. Share her fundraiser. Tell someone close to you about her journey. Every share, every donation, every prayer makes a difference.
We dream of a future where Ola can live free of cancer, where she can run on the football field again, laugh with friends, and embrace the world as a healthy, happy teenager.
Thanks to your support, that dream is within reach.
From the bottom of our hearts—thank you for being part of Ola’s fight. Please, continue walking this road with us. Together, we can make sure she not only survives but thrives.
