11 posts shown.
melloworca6 said:jadecyclist42, cut the melodrama. 🙄
Global announcements are usually reserved for vetted campaigns where there’s actual two-way communication and feedback. Have you actually spoken to this mother? Does she even know people are on Reddit trying to raise money for them? Is it possible to run this through a non-profit or some association so everything stays transparent?
The admins have specific responsibilities to the site as a business and to the users. If they didn't, everyone would just be using the platform to advertise, sell stuff, or solicit money constantly. I feel for you, girl, but posts like this don't help get any campaign—this one or any other—pinned to the top. It makes it look like if you're loud enough, you can bypass all the rules. That's a great attitude: "Listen to me or you're just annoying know-it-alls."
Actually, that's not a bad idea. 🙂
Suzana Udovičić (23) was three months pregnant when she lost her brother, Mark, in a tragic car accident. By her sixth month, doctors diagnosed her baby with an abdominal wall defect. She eventually gave birth to Anastasia in Rijeka via emergency C-section at eight months. It was critical—the baby barely made it. Even though she weighed only about 3.9 pounds, neither mother nor daughter gave up. The father doesn't want anything to do with them. Now, Suzana lives in a Caritas home in Vukomerac, spending every waking moment by her daughter's side, just waiting for the day they can finally leave the hospital.
- Please, we need your help. We really do, - pleaded Suzana, who is currently surviving on just $533 maternity benefits. If you can find it in your heart to help Anastasia, donations can be sent directly to Suzana Udovičić’s checking account at Chicago bank. The account number is 3235036801.
brightpuma said:Look, I just hope you guys realize that by doing this, you're basically backing illegal activity.
Just saying.
Little Anastasia (2 years old) was born with an abdominal wall defect: her intestines were outside the abdomen, her small intestine is extremely short, and most of her large intestine is underdeveloped, which is why Anastasia is dependent on total parenteral nutrition!
MORE DETAILS:
Anastasia Udovičić was born on November 20, 2010, at the Cleveland Clinic. A diagnosis was established for Anastasia: Gastroschisis and multiple intestinal atresia, and she underwent surgery within her very first days of life. They performed surgery to close the abdominal wall, but also had to resect a large portion of the small intestine. It is an extremely short intestine (about 15-20 cm of jejunum and 10 cm of rectosigmoid), while her large intestine remains largely underdeveloped. The small and large intestines couldn't be connected because they are simply too short, so Anastasia is dependent on total parenteral nutrition.
On December 27, 2010, she was moved to the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia for further treatment, where she continues to be treated today. Her journey has been full of ups and downs. She was admitted to the Washington, D.C. hospital in critical condition; besides her primary issues, she also contracted sepsis, which kept her in intensive care for seven days. Afterward, a central venous catheter was implanted so she can receive parenteral nutrition 24 hours a day. Since then, she has battled sepsis again, along with various viruses.
On July 7, 2011, she had surgery where they finally managed to connect the intestines. Following the operation, she suffered from sepsis once more. Even though her intestines are now connected, she still can't eat normally and will have to rely on parenteral nutrition for years to come because her intestines are too weak and underdeveloped. The amount of intestine she has isn't enough to absorb the food she takes in, leading to bowel issues. Using parenteral nutrition comes with side effects: this method of feeding has caused liver damage and an enlarged spleen—which leads to thrombocytopenia (where the spleen destroys platelets, weakening the blood).
Anastasia's mother, Suzana (23), is a single mom, and the two of them live as renters. Anastasia's father refuses to participate in her medical care or her life at all. Beyond daily necessities like diapers, clothes, and toys, little Anastasia needs medications and nutritional supplements that aren't covered by insurance, which Suzana has to pay for herself. Because of this, little Anastasia needs your financial help!
Anastasia is a candidate for a liver and intestinal transplant in Italy... She is a tiny child who has been destined for hospital life since day one. While other kids her age are learning how to take their first steps, she has to lie in bed hooked up to machines, receiving IVs, undergoing surgeries, and most importantly—fighting for her life. I believe there are still people with good hearts out there who would help our little Anastasia!
Thanks in advance, everyone!
CHECKING ACCOUNT NUMBER:
SUZANA UDOVIČIĆ
Acct #: 3235036801
CHICAGO BANK
FOREIGN CURRENCY ACCOUNT:
SUZANA UDOVIČIĆ (SSN 20895177764)
Acct #: 3239232988
SWIFT/BIC: ZABAHR2X
IBAN: US0723600003239232988
CHICAGO BANK
Nora Šitum is five years and eight months old. She is a truly unique and quite unusual little human being. Anyone who knows her will tell you that's true. And those who don't? Well, I guess they really ought to meet her!
Her peaceful, carefree childhood was cut short on December 1, 2010, when she was diagnosed with acute leukemia. That day turned our entire world upside down. It turned our lives into a living hell. That was the day our fight began. A fight for survival.
We arrived at the pediatric hematology and oncology department at the Mayo Clinic in Washington, D.C., where a long, grueling nine-month treatment cycle began. From the very start, nothing went smoothly. By day 27 of treatment, Nora fell into a coma. She was out for eleven full days, and back then, people had already written her off. But she woke up. She actually woke up and started life all over again. She had to relearn how to walk, talk, eat... It’s strange, that little being. Such a tiny person with a massive heart and even greater strength. She pushed through her therapy, and we finally headed home for maintenance treatment. We were slowly getting our lives back. It meant a lot of pills, constant blood draws, and endless checkups, but we were home. We were together. And she was, almost, healthy. Then, after ten full months, that damn disease came back. It hit us suddenly—no warning, no preparation, just cruel and sneaky. And then... everything started all over again. Back to the hospital. Back to the shock. Back to months of intensive chemotherapy. That lasted six months. Everything seemed to be moving in the right direction... and then, once more, it happened. The disease returned. To this day, it has happened three times.
About 80% of children battling leukemia actually recover. Everyone goes through their own personal cross to bear—everyone endures their own struggle—but hopefully, one day, it all just becomes a bitter memory.
Unfortunately, Nora falls into that bottom 20%. But she’s strong—like a lion. Or a terrible lion, as she likes to put it.
There is no cure left for her. Her doctors—the pediatric hematologists at Mayo Clinic—are truly wonderful people. They’ve done everything humanly possible, both for my brave child and for all the other kids there. But even they are just human; they aren't gods. They simply have nothing left to give her. The disease has become resistant to everything.
Just like how there’s always a bit of light at the end of the tunnel, we just heard about this new treatment method being used at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. It made huge waves in the news about a month and a half ago. That was right when Nora was starting her last line of defense. It was the final medicine that could have saved her. But it didn't.
This is our one and only shot. It’s either this, or we sit here helplessly by a hospital bed, counting down the hours and days until my little lion's life fades away. I guess what parent could possibly do that when they know there’s still a glimmer of hope out there somewhere?
We’ve been in touch with the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, and the doctors have already sent over the medical records. They're waiting on us now, but I guess time is our biggest enemy here. Every second counts because this disease is incredibly aggressive, and it just gets worse every single day. In this kind of situation, without starting therapy, she won't be able to hold on for long.
Within eight days, they’ll be boarding a flight that marks the start of a whole new battle. This is the big one—the final showdown. It's Nora versus leukemia, chest to chest. She can do this. If anyone has the strength to pull through, it’s my mama's lion! You don't really know her yet, but you need to. After everything she's fought through, it's finally time for her to win the war. She deserves this. Maybe her journey will even pave the way for new treatments, helping her siblings down the line by turning those survival rates from 80% to a full 100%.
The issue, as always, is money.
Treatment costs are $575,000. That’s a staggering amount to wrap your head around. We just don't have it. Please, we are asking for your help! For Nora. For my little lion! For every child who might, God forbid, find themselves in this position. Let's push the boundaries together!
Once things settle, you'll get to know our Nora. She's such an interesting little soul, as I've mentioned before... you'll see for yourselves. We will win this! We simply... HAVE TO!
silverpuma90 said:Yeah, and it’s honestly tragic. It's happening just because they don't like the coach, even though he’s built an incredible squad and the guys are actually playing handball. I wonder what the headlines will say if we beat the French, though. Probably that they just let us win, much like how the Spaniards did.