For weeks, a little boy counted down the days on a handmade calendar until his mom could ring the bell. On Tuesday, they finally got there.
KwaNgwanase, South Africa (16 March 2026) – There is a copper bell that hangs in treatment centres around the world. It represents hope. Ringing it marks the ‘finish line’ for people who’ve spent months, sometimes years, fighting for their lives.
It says ‘you’ve made it.’
On a Tuesday that Yvonne will never forget, surrounded by her husband, her young son, and the medical team who had walked the journey with her, she reached up and rang that bell three times.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
After 425 days of her world being turned upside down, Yvonne was – and is – finally, officially, a cancer survivor.
She went for a routine mammogram in July almost two years ago, just as a sensible precaution, as she approached 40. The results came back clear. There were some benign fat tissues in her left breast, nothing to worry about, and a recommendation to return for another scan in a year.
So when a small bump appeared in that same breast just a few months later, in November, she wasn’t overly alarmed. It was probably just the tissue the scan had already flagged. It was probably nothing.
Then the lump started hurting.
She booked another mammogram.
“From that moment on everything went quickly. The lump was removed and so were 9 lymph nodes of which 5 had cancer in them. After the cancer was removed I got to meet my oncologist for the first time and the hardest shock of all was the stage I was at. She told me I had HER2 positive stage 3.” Yvonne tells us. “That was one big slap in my face. I was on top of things, how was it possible to go from no problems to stage 3 in only 6 months?”
It was a shock to discover the cancer had advanced so far, especially since the previous mammogram had come up clear, just months ago. The treatment plan came as an even worse blow. Everything seemed impossible.
“I felt I couldn’t do it. The oncologist told me I needed 14 months of treatment. Six rounds of chemo, 18 target treatments and 20 rounds of radiation, four weeks in a row Monday to Friday. She told me I would feel more horrible than I could imagine, I would lose my hair and honestly she lost me there. My mind was spinning and couldn’t keep up.”
Yvonne and her husband Leo live on a game reserve in rural South Africa, three hours one way from the nearest cancer treatment centre. Their son Owen, then only six years old, was being homeschooled at home. There was no nearby family to call on, no help around the house, and no simple way to make any of it work.
“It was one big nightmare especially with the radiation. I couldn’t drive 5 days a week for 6 hours 4 weeks in a row. South Africa doesn’t have special leave for when your spouse is ill so it was honestly too much to handle. I didn’t even have time to register that I had cancer. There were too many logistics to sort out and on top of that the insurance didn’t want to pay for a very expensive and important treatment.”
On top of all the logistics, the finances, and fear, she barely had a moment to stop and absorb the fact that she actually had cancer at all.
“I honestly have never felt more hopeless and terrified as after that first talk with my oncologist, but here I am at the other side and we made it through.”
If chemotherapy was brutal, radiation brought total exhaustion. She had been warned it would be tiring. Nothing prepared her for what it actually felt like.
Running underneath everything was something that hurt her in a different way entirely. The guilt of not being able to be the active mom she once was.
“Guilt towards my son has been a huge part of the journey. Owen was absolutely sweet and amazing and he was fine being less active…but it made me feel so guilty.” says Yvonne. “I did manage to keep the playdates going throughout the journey. Most weeks he still saw friends, but I lacked a lot of other things, the active mom and son things we used to do every day.”
Owen was extraordinary throughout. He was patient and happy to swap his usual busy days with mom for quieter ones when she needed rest. Still, 14 months is a long time for a little boy, and as the journey wore on, the questions came more and more frequently.
“He kept asking how many more treatments and when I could run around with him again.” she says. “As a mom it broke my heart and he kept asking more frequently when we were done. We decided to make a countdown calendar together that marked the trips left to the city and we ended it with a bell.”
After 425 days of fighting, that day finally arrived last week, on Tuesday. The last day of their calendar. The big bell. It was one of the most joyful.
“On my final treatment day I could feel the joy all over the treatment centre. It seemed like everyone was aware of my special day and that made my joy even bigger.” says Yvonne. “I have a friend who really stood up during my cancer journey and has been there every step of the way. She had one last surprise on the final treatment day, and that was showing up with her kids, a balloon and a follower of my page, who made this beautiful cake for me. It was such a fun surprise and made the celebration even better.”
Friends came to give hugs. The phone went off endlessly with happy calls and messages. Then came the moment.
“Surrounded by my husband, son and all the staff that cared for me so well I got to ring the bell and hearing those 3 dings were just the best sound ever.”
In the days since, Yvonne has been open about the complicated emotions that come with reaching the finish line. The joy is enormous and real. But so is the uncertainty, and she holds both with honesty.
“I fought this breast cancer so hard but I learned that there still is a little chance that cancer is still in my body. I figured if I get it again it will be new cancer and I struggle with the thought that the cancer I fought so hard to get rid of might still be inside my body at the moment. Just waiting to start up again.” she says. “So the final day of treatment and ringing the bell was absolutely amazing, but it’s a weird thought that the cancer I fought so hard for is still in my body. Not huge chances, but still it is a possibility and I find myself struggling with those thoughts at the moment.”
For now, the focus and hope lie in her recovery.
“At this point the only thing we are really focusing on is my recovery. I still have a very long way to go until I feel more or less like myself again. The scars will never disappear, my body will never look the same and my energy levels will most likely never return completely, but there is a lot we can do to improve my health and that is what we are focusing on now.”
Throughout this life-altering journey, Yvonne has shared parts of her journey openly and honestly on Facebook. There were times when she felt she couldn’t – or shouldn’t – but ultimately, she wanted to create more awareness in the world.
“I was only 37 when I got cancer and back then my odds of getting it were only 4-6% and yet I got it. I felt that by sharing my story other women might go for a mammogram as well and if I can only save one woman it would be enough.” she says.
Along the way she learned that sharing her journey also helped in other ways, for different people.
“Other cancer patients found recognition in my post and I helped those who haven’t dealt with cancer personally understand it better. Even people who work at cancer treatment centres thanked me for my post as it gives them a bit of a better insight in how their patients feel.”
The reach of her words turned out to be wider than she had imagined. In return, she found a sense of community – one that celebrated the loudest last week on Tuesday, when Yvonne finally got to post that she’s now a cancer survivor.
“Sharing the great news on my page was the biggest explosion ever. I still can’t believe how many people celebrated with me.” she says. “Besides amazing support from all over the world, I also learned that others have experienced the same. There were moments during this journey when I felt like I was failing and couldn’t do it. Sharing that and hearing that others felt the same somewhere during their own battle helped me a lot. It was really really hard…”
Follow Yvonne’s ongoing journey on Facebook at Yvonne in the Bush.
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