LDL. Days Before Christmas, 13-Year-Old Liz Went From Chest Pain to a Stage 3 Cancer Diagnosis — Now She’s Beginning a Long Fight

Just days before Christmas, Sarah thought she was dealing with something frightening—but temporary.

Her 13-year-old daughter, Elizabeth—known by most as Liz—complained of chest pain. It was the kind of symptom that can send any parent into instant alarm, but nothing could have prepared them for what came next.

Within a matter of days, the family went from concern… to scans… to a discovery that shifted everything: doctors identified a mass near Liz’s heart.

Then came the next steps that families never forget—the waiting, the tests, the anxious hours trying to stay calm while your mind runs ahead to worst-case possibilities.

A biopsy followed.

And then, the words that stop a room cold:

Stage 3 T-cell lymphoblastic lymphoma.

For Liz, the timing makes it feel even more unreal. She’s 13. She should be focused on school, friends, and the countdown to the holidays. Instead, she’s stepping into a hospital routine most adults would struggle to endure—chemotherapy, appointments, and the exhausting uncertainty that comes with starting cancer treatment.

Liz is a middle-school student in Belton, Texas, and her treatment is underway at Dell Children’s in Austin. The plan, as Sarah understands it right now, is intense: the next six to eight months are expected to involve weekly, demanding treatments.

And if everything goes the way doctors hope, Liz would eventually move into a maintenance phase—but the family has been told the road could stretch two years or longer.

That’s the part many people don’t realize when they hear “she’s starting chemo.”

Starting is only the beginning.

“The fear is constant.”

Sarah describes the feeling in the way many parents do when their child becomes the patient: you’re trying to stay strong, but the fear never fully leaves.

She worries about how Liz will feel from treatment—how her energy might change, how her appetite might change, what side effects will show up, and what will happen next.

She worries about how Liz will look and how she’ll cope with the changes that may come with chemotherapy—because at 13, kids are still building confidence and identity, and illness can feel like it steals control of both.

And she worries about the unknown—the part that weighs even when you’re not speaking it out loud.

The unknown is its own kind of pain.

The family didn’t ask for this season. They didn’t plan for it. They didn’t have time to “prepare.” They were simply pulled into it—fast.

A holiday season that looks nothing like they imagined

Christmas is supposed to be the season of warmth, comfort, and familiar traditions.

But for this family, the holiday has been replaced by bright hospital lights, medical terminology, and the emotional whiplash of trying to process a diagnosis while also trying to keep a child calm.

Liz should be counting down to the holidays.

Instead, she’s counting weeks of chemo.

And Sarah is doing what mothers do when there’s no choice: holding it together moment by moment, because her daughter needs her to.

Why messages matter more than people think

When a child starts a long treatment plan, support doesn’t just help—it sustains.

It tells Liz she isn’t facing this alone.

It reminds Sarah that being strong doesn’t mean being silent.

And it creates something powerful for the hardest days: a place to look when hope feels far away.

Sometimes a comment—just a few sincere lines—becomes the thing a family rereads when they’re scared.

Sometimes it becomes the reason a kid smiles on a day that hurts.

How you can support Liz right now

If you’re reading this, here’s what this family needs most in the simplest form:

• Encouragement for Liz — something kind, brave, or uplifting she can read later
• Strength for Sarah — a reminder that she’s doing an impossible job with love
• Prayers / positive thoughts — if that’s how you support others
• Help sharing — so the right people see this and can step in with support

And if you’re able and you want to help financially as they enter months of treatment, the family has shared a donation link:

This is a 13-year-old girl who just started the hardest fight of her life—and a mom doing everything she can to hold it all together.

If you’ve got a moment, leave Liz a message.
She may not respond today. She may not even see it right away.

But one day—on a hard night, after a long treatment—she might read your words and feel a little less alone.