Marisa 'eM' Louw

  I remember this day, one year ago, as if it happened yesterday. At 10 o'clock, I walked into the radiology practice for my second-ever routine mammogram. And at noon I left confused, and in tears, because the radiologist found a suspicious mass in my right breast. Four agonising weeks later, my general health practitioner confirmed that I have breast cancer. Over the past 12 months, I have had six surgeries under general anaesthetic and 18 weeks of chemotherapy. I started an 18-month immune targeted therapy regime with an insanely expensive drug called Herceptin. My breast cancer is HER2 positive, which means that I have extra copies of the gene that makes the HER2 protein. The drug attaches itself to the cells and blocks the growth signal, which can slow or stop the spread of cancer significantly. My cancer also tested positive for hormone receptors which means that the estrogen produced by my body acts as food for cancer. As a result, part of my treatment includes blocking my b...

Today I am going to share with you some of my darkest moments of the past ten months. Not because I want your pity, but because I want you to know that YOU can overcome those dark thoughts that dwindle deep down in your mind. I have a history of suicide attempts. The first was when I was 14 years old and attempted to slit my wrists. When I was 18, I took an overdose of a mixture of drugs that were available in the house. Until I met my husband when I was 22 years old, I overdosed on pills on numerous occasions. With his help over the past 24 years, I have managed to overcome my demons and became the positive person that you know. And then, in August of last year, life threw me a curveball - a Stage 2 breast cancer diagnoses. To cope with it, I went into autopilot mode. Almost blindly accepting my fate. A myriad of diagnostic tests, surgery, chemotherapy, more surgery, additional drugs, and more surgery. I chose to trust my medical team and follow their recommendations.  But, in the...

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in July 2019, I had no idea what the financial implications would be. Although I have an entry-level hospital plan, I have no life insurance or dread disease cover. Both my husband and I are freelancers which means that our income fluctuates. We aim to have as few as possible fixed financial commitments which means we have a hospital plan, short-term insurance, and a data service provider. It would be irresponsible of us to commit to any other fixed expenses knowing that our income varies month-on-month. We further have no credit cards, or loans, or clothing accounts. No cash, no purchase. We also have to take into account our travel and maintenance costs. A trip from Parys to Johannesburg to meet with a client costs R2,300 if one uses the Automobile Associations (AA) calculator. Actual fuel cost is around R500 per return trip, and I travel at least three times a week. And according to the Southern African Freelancers' Association (SAFREA), t...

  It is my view that we all experience a measure of financial strain. That no living person is excluded from the stress brought about by money, or the lack thereof. The property magnate with billions in the bank may have it all but desire something that money can't buy. Not having that something perhaps leaves him sad and depressed. The middle-class mother of a single-parent family may drive a mid-market car but works two jobs to keep up with the repayment thereof. All for the sake of her children, to give them the best she can. She possibly cries quietly at night. The informal dweller may have less financial commitments but have to live from hand to mouth daily. Imagine waking up in the morning, not knowing where your next meal will come from. You have your financial challenges, and I have mine. Yesterday, my husband and I took a decision to put my cancer treatment on hold because we have to spend our money on other things that are more important, like food and shelter. Unless my ...