There are no words to describe the helplessness of a parent watching their child suffer. No parent should have to see their little one endure such pain, and yet for us, this has become our reality. Our daughter,

Solomiya, is only a child, yet she is already fighting the most important battle of her life—the battle against neuroblastoma, an aggressive childhood cancer.

When Treatment Becomes Torture

Not long ago, our Solka began a new round of treatment—her first block of immunochemistry. We prayed it would bring relief and stop the relentless disease. But only two hours after the drug was administered, her condition deteriorated rapidly. Her fever shot up to 39°C and has stubbornly stayed there for days.

She developed severe diarrhea with blood, vomiting, and constant nausea that left her unable to eat. A spasmodic cough shakes her fragile body in exhausting attacks. Her blood pressure drops steadily, while her strength disappears.

Worst of all is the pain. It has spread through her entire body, especially her legs. Our little girl cannot even walk to the bathroom. The medical staff give her morphine in small doses around the clock, but even in sleep she moans. The pain never leaves her. Doctors tell us this is part of how the immunotherapy works, but it doesn’t make it easier to watch.

As her mother, my heart breaks every moment. I hold her hands, whisper comfort, and tell her that one day the pain will end—that she will smile again, laugh again, and tell me stories from school. I cling to this vision of her joy, because it is the only thing that keeps me standing.

The Surgery That Stopped Time

Then came another trial—surgery.

On September 8, 2025, we were told there was no other choice. A tumor in her head had to be removed. The surgeons explained that the operation would take three to four hours, that part of her skull would be removed with the tumor, and an implant placed in its place. They did not hide the truth: such surgery carried mortal risk.

We were terrified. No parent is ever ready to sign such papers, to place their child in the hands of doctors knowing the dangers. And yet, neuroblastoma gave us no choice. To save her life, we had to agree.

The day of the operation was the longest of our lives. As they hooked Solka up to monitors, she was trembling with fear, clutching my hand and refusing to let go. Her eyes were wide with panic. Then the anesthesia took over, and she drifted into sleep. The doctors carried her away, and we were left in the waiting room.

That waiting room became a prison of time. Hours felt like years. Every tick of the clock was unbearable. We whispered prayers over and over, hoping to bargain with heaven itself.

Finally, the surgeon emerged. His words brought us the greatest relief: the surgery went as planned. Our brave girl was in intensive care, and after a day, transferred to a ward. For the first time in weeks, we could breathe again.

The Fight Isn’t Over

But the battle continues. We don’t yet know the next treatment plan—whether it will be chemotherapy or immunotherapy. What we do know is that both options are astronomically expensive. We have already spent more than we thought possible, and still, the road stretches endlessly ahead.

Solomiya has shown us she is a fighter. She has faced unimaginable pain, fear, and hardship, yet she endures with a courage that humbles us. She is stronger than we ever knew a child could be.

But she cannot continue this fight alone.

A Call for Help

We are reaching out with the deepest plea of our hearts: please help us give our daughter a chance.

Every donation, every share of her story, every kind word of encouragement brings us closer to saving her. It brings us closer to the day when she can run outside, laugh freely, and live without fear.

We dream of the moment when neuroblastoma will no longer define her childhood. When she will grow up surrounded not by machines and medicines, but by love, joy, and the simple comforts of a healthy life.

You—our angels, as we call you—are the reason we still have hope. Your faith, your compassion, your generosity are what keep us from collapsing under the weight of this fight.

Please, help us carry our daughter through this storm. Help us make sure that her story does not end in hospital corridors, but in a future filled with life and light.

Because every child deserves a chance to grow up healthy. And our Solomiya, strong and brave as she is, deserves that chance more than anything.