Evija Rudzone last August when she first spoke with the Celt about her delayed cancer diagnosis.

'Each day for me is a gift'

Cancer patient, who had diagnosis delayed, battles on

It’s eight months since the Celt last spoke with Evija Rudzone, the terminally ill mum who, at that stage, was told by medical experts she may only have months left to live.

But Evija turns 49 later this month and, for the first time in her adult life, is looking forward to celebrating her birthday with her daughters, family, and friends.

“I told her she had to be with us for Christmas,” says Evija’s daughter Nikola. The 24 year old is now her mother’s full-time carer. “That was my deal with her.”

Evija smiles to her daughter. “She said ‘Mummy, you have to live until after Christmas’. Now she says to me we have to do something for my birthday. I think I will, this time. I think we should.”

In August last year Evija received a formal apology and significant financial settlement in the High Court after suing both the HSE and Quest Laboratories, one of the US companies behind Ireland’s CervicalCheck scandal.

Represented by Dr John O’Mahony SC, instructed by Doireann O’Mahony BL and Richard Crowley of Belturbet’s McGuigan Solicitors, the HSE admitted breaching its duty of care to Evija, and Our Lady of Lourdes Drogheda recognised the impact caused by a delayed cancer diagnosis.

No admissions were made by Quest Diagnostics Incorporated.

Doctors in Ireland failed on multiple occasions to pick up abnormalities in screenings carried out between 2019 and 2021.

Despite assurances, Evija spent her life savings to fly to Latvia in 2022 for a second opinion, where a series of tests ultimately confirmed advanced Grade 2 cancer.

She underwent a full hysterectomy, chemotherapy and radium in her home country, but further examinations found cancer cells in her lymphnodes, and a year after that metastases in her lungs.

Incredibly, Evija was able to be in court last August to hear the apology read out first-hand, despite having undergone a surgery only the month before to remove malignant growths on her brain.

Evija recently completed a bout of chemotherapy that managed to shrink the growth of her brain tumour “slightly”, and she’s currently on steroids hoping to recover enough to begin another round of cancer treatment, this time on her lungs, next month.

But steroid treatment has taken its toll on Evija’s already weakened body, while the dosage of an anti-seizure drug caused by the growth on her brain has been increased twice already.

Her short time memory has been affected. She’s put on weight too, a side effect of the steroids, and requires a walking stick to get around. Evija gets fatigued more easily, and longer walks or heading into town for doctor’s appointments requires being pushed in a wheelchair.

Dr Wilhelm Freiherr Von Hornstein and his team, meanwhile, look after Evija’s palliative care needs.

Yet through it all she remains positive. Each new day Evija says is a “gift”.

“I’m still here. Like magic.”

Her daughter Nikola suggests survival might however be down to her mum’s sheer “stubbornness”.

Again, Evija smiles. “She might be right. I now need a carer 24/7 because of the seizures. My first seizure was when I was with my youngest child. I just had time enough to call my sister to say something was wrong. I now can’t leave the house by myself. But I can’t complain.

“All the doctors and nurses are amazing. Sometimes I go in and give them hugs, even though my treatment is finished. They must think I’m crazy but I’m just so thankful for [their care]. What the doctors, what my family are doing for me, I can’t ask for more. Everyone is so important, and I appreciate everything.”

Evija, who previously worked as a chef at The Meadow View until her illness took hold, continues to think of the predicament others may find themselves in. Like campaigner Vicky Phelan, among the first to expose and speak up about the cervical cancer screening scandal, she hopes her story can inspire others on their own cancer journey to keep fighting.

“I hope,” she says slowly. “I would like [to be able to keep fighting]. Each day for me is a gift.”

Evija first moved to Ireland in 2010. She hoped for a better life for her and her daughters.

The overwhelming emotion of what is happening sometimes gets to both of them. It’s difficult not to, and each deals with it in their own way.

The abject unfairness is what troubles them most. In that respect, the burden is shared.

Last time Evija was on steroids she bounced back quickly. Now their effectiveness has begun to wane.

“With sickness it’s never easy,” Evija tells the Celt.

Looking to Nikola, Evija suggests her daughter is still angry about her mother’s sickness. “It’s natural. Sometimes emotions take over. But look at it. It’s almost a year now. We never thought I would get that. Soon it will be my birthday. I didn’t think I’d reach this year even. The 21st of April. I’ve never really celebrated my birthday but I think this time I should. To appreciate that I am still alive.”

Nikola’s birthday is also this month, so the family might double up the celebration.

With a weakened laugh Evija states: “My daughter thinks I’m crazy, but each day I feel I get closer to God. Not like religious, but I just put my trust in something more, more than myself. My faith is deeper. Maybe that’s what has helped me. I don’t know. You leave it all in the hands of God and hope for things to get better.”

She concludes by commenting about the good weather outside. With treatment and setbacks it was a long winter, she felt. The end of spring and start of summer is filled with promise.

“Every day I try. Some days are harder than others. What can you expect with a tumour in your brain. Of course I want to be the same, but I know I can’t. I still want to be a mother, to be there for my daughters. The best I can be. This month I must get stronger, to be ready for the new treatment. But it is getting harder. I hope I will be strong enough. I can’t ask more of myself than what I can do.”