Rylee’s inspirational & heartbreaking story on his mum Lisa’s battle with vulval cancer – driving Rylee to run 115km, keeping his beautiful mum’s memory alive, and raising awareness of vulval cancer & research funds for AGCF.
On the 17th of February 2024, my mother Lisa noticed a pimple on her vulva, which the average person would surely brush off as nothing. Mum did just that by sending a text to her friend Lisa, cracking a joke about it and carrying on with her day.
Four weeks passed, with the pimple growing in size and becoming painful. A trip to the GP on the 10th of March resulted in a prescription of pain relief and a biopsy. Dr. Google said it could be vulval cancer, which turned out to be the diagnosis Mum received on the 27th of March 2024. What merely appeared as a small pimple grew into a cyst, and was then identified to be a vulval squamous cell carcinoma.
Mum had surgery to remove the left side of her vulva at the Freemasons Hospital on the 15th of April 2024, a week after her 59th birthday. Mum came home for a few months until a second surgery was necessary in July, to remove lymph nodes surrounding the area where additional cancers were found.
August then brought on 5 weeks of chemo and radiation with the aim of hopefully knocking out any remaining cancer cells hiding away, which was all good until the side effects of the treatment started to hit. Deep vein thrombosis, elevated blood pressure, and blood clots caused immense pain and swelling in Mum’s legs which was quickly treated. Mum, unbelievably strong and resilient as always. Not once did she complain, masking the pain to keep us optimistic.
Radiation finished on the 30th of September 2024. Mum rang the bell and messaged Lisa on her way out of hospital, my life begins again tomorrow. A few demons lingered after the treatment, with Mum being prescribed blood thinners for the clots in her legs. Otherwise, life felt almost normal with Mum returning home, always there to greet everyone with her warm hugs and endless love, roaming around her garden with our German Shepherd Jett, and yelling at Dad to turn the TV down every 15 minutes. Mum still had some discomfort when sitting after the surgery, but that was deemed to be a small price to pay to be back at home.
February 2nd 2025, another lump appeared. This time on the right side of Mum’s groin. An appointment with the surgeon on the 31st of March segued into bookings for scans, tests, and ultrasounds.
We celebrated Mum’s birthday a few days later, unaware it would be the last time we ever did. A lovely 60th birthday surrounded by all her friends and family, appearing seemingly unbothered by what was going on. No one would have known anything was wrong. Mum was always so strong and masked the pain as to not alarm anyone. I guess that’s just what Mum always did, always putting everyone else before herself. That’s what many mothers do, but my Mum always went above and beyond.
On the 28th of April 2025, the two words no one who has battled cancer wants to hear, it’s back!
What appeared as another small lump rapidly grew to a 3cm by 4cm tumour. Back to Heidelberg for more chemo and radiation alongside heavy painkillers.
Treatment continued while the tumour formed into a large wound through until June, so Mum was admitted to the Mercy on the 16th for better oversight, treatment and management of the wound. Doctors said the tumour had spread from a lymph node and burst through the skin causing a malignant ulcer on the surface of her skin. Their hope was that switching from chemotherapy to immunotherapy paired with further radiation would kill the cancer and lead to treatment of the site later down the track.
However, only three days later, on the 19th of June, the doctors arranged a meeting with all of us to fill us in on what was happening. At the rate the cancer was spreading and the wound growing, we were told we had a maximum of six months left with Mum. Even after being told the news, the only thing Mum cared about was lifting us up, trying to make light of the situation and telling us I’m not dead just yet! and to stop sooking. That’s my Mum.
Mum came home two days later with a heap of pain killers and daily visits from local nurses in Seymour to dress her wound. Six months sounded better than nothing, but it only took another month until the 29th of July 2025 for Mum to self-admit herself to hospital at the Austin as it was too hard to manage her medication and pain at home.
We spent the next two months travelling back and forth every day we possibly could from Seymour to Heidelberg to see Mum. Scans in early August showed that Mum’s cancer was spreading into her lungs, and that immunotherapy wasn’t working to keep it at bay.
Mum never gave up or lost hope. She was always insistent on returning home for us, telling me all she really needed was a hug at home every day to get better. A hospital is no place to live out your days. As her wound kept growing, the dosage of her painkillers kept increasing. Along with the increased dosage came additional struggles to get out of bed or eat most days.
Although Mum never came home, we were extremely fortunate that the Seymour Hospital had the capacity to care for her. On the 27th of August 2025, Mum was transferred into a room in Seymour, just a five minute drive from home. Better than what we were dealing with before for sure. With the distance being shortened it made visiting even easier. Every day Mum had a visit from Dad, myself, my partner Steph, my sister Sienna, and Mum’s friends Lisa and Marie.
Mum’s brother Dean and friend Denby also flew down from New South Wales to support everyone and give Mum their love. They particularly made sure everyone had eaten and kept on top of the nurses asking for updates on Mum’s condition.
On the 22nd of September 2025, we all visited for the final time. We all stayed late and gave Mum an extra hug and kiss before leaving her and Dad for the night.
Dad had been staying at the hospital overnight with Mum the past week, not leaving her side for a single second. At roughly 5am on the 23rd of September 2025, Dad woke up, got out of his bed and sat with Mum, holding her hand in silence. Mum took her last breath at about 5:30am. Cancer may have beaten her in the end, but she didn’t make it easy.
Mum spent her whole life putting others before herself. Although I never got the chance to pay her back for her selflessness, I’ve made it my goal to at least pay it forward and make Mum proud. Thus, on the 4th of April 2026, the day before what would have been Mum’s 61st birthday, I will be running 115 kilometres to raise funds for the Australian Gynae Cancer Foundation, for much needed breakthrough research and to spread awareness of vulvar cancer, the cancer which claimed the lives of 115 women in 2025, including the person most important to me, my mum Lisa.
Rylee Haigh
If you’d like to donate to life-saving gynae cancer research, please donate here or directly via bank deposit to:
AGCF – ANZ Bank
BSB: 012 003
Account: 2678 02408
