Laura was just like any other bright, lively three-year-old. Born completely healthy, she spent her first two years growing, laughing, and exploring the world with unbridled joy. Every day was filled with her infectious energy, her boundless curiosity, and the simple happiness that only a child can bring. But in an instant, that ordinary, beautiful life changed forever.
At first, the changes were subtle. Laura began behaving differently—she became withdrawn, sleepy, and seemed to have lost the spark that once lit up every room she entered. She showed little interest in playing, her laughter was rare, and her tiny body appeared fragile. As her parents, we felt a growing unease. Something was wrong—but nothing could have prepared us for the storm that was about to descend on our family.
The first alarming sign was a limp in one of Laura’s legs. Concerned, we immediately visited our primary care physician. After a thorough consultation, he suspected hip arthritis and referred us for a hip ultrasound. The diagnosis was confirmed: inflammation in the hip, and treatment began. But soon, the world shifted again. The COVID-19 pandemic disrupted healthcare everywhere. Laura’s treatment was suspended, and a teleconsultation left us with little guidance—the doctor advised simply monitoring her condition.
Days turned into weeks, and Laura’s condition worsened. She became increasingly lethargic, moody, and withdrawn. Watching our little girl fade before our eyes was terrifying. We realized that waiting was no longer an option; we had to take matters into our own hands.
We sought out a recommended orthopedic specialist in Słupsk. The first visit confirmed the hip inflammation, but the doctor noticed something troubling: Laura’s left leg was moving in a strange, uncontrolled way. Reviewing the ultrasound, he found a small fluid collection in her hip, advising that it would likely resolve on its own. We left the office, hoping for the best—but deep inside, we knew something was not right.
Two weeks later, our fears were confirmed. Laura’s health continued to decline, and it became painfully clear that this was not an orthopedic problem. The doctor immediately sent us to the emergency room. There, after careful examination and a series of tests—including an MRI of the head—we learned the unthinkable: Laura had a tumor in her posterior cranial fossa. The news hit us like a thunderbolt. Shock, disbelief, and fear paralyzed us, but thanks to the expertise and dedication of the doctor in Słupsk, our daughter was transferred the very next day to a specialized children’s hospital in Warsaw. There, the true battle for Laura’s life began.
In Warsaw, further tests and a second CT scan confirmed the grave diagnosis. The tumor was life-threatening, and immediate surgery was imperative. For us, the waiting felt unbearable. Two days of preparation before the operation stretched endlessly, filled with fear, prayers, and the silent hope that our child would survive. The day of the surgery arrived, accompanied by warnings of possible complications. But there was no choice: without the operation, Laura had no chance.
The surgery lasted twelve hours. When it was over, we were told that the tumor had been successfully removed. But the joy was bittersweet. Laura had lost her sight during the operation. Our hearts broke, knowing that our little girl would now experience the world through touch and sound alone. Yet, even in the face of this unimaginable challenge, Laura’s spirit remains indomitable. She is an active, lively child, eager to explore every day, despite the obstacles before her.
Now begins the long journey of rehabilitation. Laura requires intensive therapies, specialized classes, and continuous medical care to regain as much independence and quality of life as possible. Each day brings new challenges—and new expenses that far exceed our means. We face the painful reality that our ability to provide the care Laura desperately needs is limited by finances.
It is a parent’s greatest sorrow to feel powerless when it comes to their child’s well-being. That is why we reach out today, humbly asking for your support. Every contribution, every act of kindness, brings hope and strengthens Laura’s chances for a brighter future.
Laura’s journey is far from over. Her courage inspires us, and her resilience motivates everyone around her. With your help, we can ensure that she receives the care she needs to thrive, to learn, and to continue exploring the world with the same boundless curiosity and joy she has always had. Please stand with us and our little fighter as we face this battle together.
From the hearts of her parents,
Adamczyk Family
Bartłomiej’s Fight: A Little Soldier’s Battle for Life.3274
My name is Bartłomiej. I was born on July 18, 2017, a happy, healthy boy who loved to play, explore, dance, and read books. My family and friends were always entertained by my antics and energy. Life seemed simple, joyful, and full of promise. But everything changed in an instant, and I became a child living with severe disability — a condition that no family ever expects.
It all began on May 13, 2019. I was suddenly rushed to the hospital, struggling with seizures and dangerously low blood sugar. The events that followed caused extensive damage to my brain, leaving me with cortical laminar necrosis — a severe injury to my cerebral cortex. In addition, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and adrenal insufficiency. My life changed overnight.
For almost two months, I was placed in a medically induced coma. My parents held onto hope, praying for a miracle while I lay unconscious, fighting battles my body could not yet express. When I finally woke, the world looked completely different. I couldn’t move freely, my right side was weak due to hemiparesis, and my thoughts were clouded. I longed to look my mom and dad in the eyes and recognize them, but even the simplest actions were now beyond my abilities.
Despite everything, my spirit remained strong. My parents and the doctors call me “a little soldier,” and I try to be brave every day. But living like this is hard. I rely on a percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy (PEG) for food, and a tracheostomy connected to a ventilator helps me breathe. I have specialists — a neurologist, endocrinologist, and speech-language pathologist — guiding my care. Yet, rehabilitation and specialized equipment are critical for me to recover and reclaim even a portion of the life I once had.
Before this illness, I learned to do so many things on my own. I ran, played, explored, and laughed without limits. Now, even sitting comfortably requires support. I dream of a special bed where I can rest without pain, a specialized wheelchair to see the world from a new perspective, and the tools to participate in therapy fully. Every exercise, every movement is exhausting, but I know I must push through because I want to ride my cars again, run with friends, and play hide-and-seek.
My family has been relentless in seeking answers. We are waiting for genetic testing to uncover the root cause of my condition, though results may take a long time. Each day is a balancing act — between hospital visits, therapy sessions, and the emotional toll of seeing me struggle while longing to live a normal childhood.
Yet even in these dark days, hope remains. I imagine a future where I can give kisses, cuddle, and laugh the way I used to. I want to rediscover the joy of life — to run, play, and feel like a child again. My parents and I believe that one day, this dream is possible. But to make it happen, I need help.
Every donation, no matter how small, brings me closer to regaining a measure of independence. Funds will go toward essential rehabilitation, specialized equipment, therapy, and medical care that I cannot access otherwise. Each contribution allows my family to continue searching for treatments, improving my quality of life, and giving me the best chance at a future filled with possibility.
I am brave. I will not give in to this illness. I fight every day, even when my body feels heavy and my spirit is tired. And with your support, I can continue this fight. I want to show my mom and dad — and all of you — that I can laugh, love, and embrace life again.
Please help me. Support me through the Kawałek Nieba Foundation so I can continue my rehabilitation, receive the specialized care I need, and take steps toward a brighter future. Together, we can give me the chance to play, explore, and grow like any other child.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading my story, for believing in me, and for giving a little soldier like me the hope I need to fight another day.
— Bartłomiej and his parents
