After years of turmoil from a difficult childhood that followed me into adulthood, surviving Covid three times, and facing three years of unemployment, I honestly thought I had filled my ‘quota’ of life’s tests.

I was wrong.

While showering one evening, a dreadful panic set in when I found a lump in my breast. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was just hormonal. But within days, I went from a doctor’s appointment to a specialist scan. Before that day ended, I got the call that confirmed my worst fear: aggressive Triple Negative Ductal breast cancer.

My world crashed. I had no medical aid and lived in a province where one government hospital had run out of chemo and the other was nearly impossible to get into. I truly thought, ‘This is it. I’ll die before I even start treatment.’

But God was saying, ‘My child, ye of little faith.’

That Monday morning, the phone rang. A specialist at Albert Luthuli Oncology had seen my file. In a system where it usually takes 6 to 8 weeks just to get an appointment, she told me to come in the very next day.

I sat in her office, numb, listening to a treatment plan I knew I couldn’t afford. When she told me I’d start chemo the following week, I finally spoke up and told her I had no funds. She looked at me and said I had been accepted into her programme—I should just pay whatever I could afford, whether it was R200 or R2000.

I went home and sobbed. I felt the Lord’s arms around me, whispering, ‘This too shall pass.’

The journey was brutal. Seeing a bald woman in the mirror is something you never quite get used to. But God gave me the strength for the dark days and energy for the weak ones. Without His miracle of opening that hospital door and walking me through every step, I wouldn’t be here today.

Today, I am getting stronger. My love for Him grows with every beautiful day He gives me. I am living proof that God is great, all the time.