Lara Leahy
07 December 2024, 8:00 PM
Occasionally, you meet one of those incredible people who, despite adversity, push through to recreate their destiny, which involves spreading joy and goodwill to others.
Liz is one of those people, and if she hasn’t already, she is determined to put more Liz into Lismore!
In 1996, Liz was diagnosed with breast cancer, and so started a journey of treatments involving radiotherapy, a mastectomy and a legacy of injury that she is still being treated for in hospital twice a week.
The mastectomy, which happened in 2020, uncovered a range of damage from the radiotherapy, broken ribs, unhealed tissue and an aggressive tumour - Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer. The prognosis was a brief 3 to 6 months.
Liz had been through a bit, as you can imagine. She is a caring lady with a gentle soul.
However, Liz recalls that day clearly. As she and her husband, Allan, left the doctors office, she turned to him and said, “That’s bullshit. That’s not going to be me!”
That was over two years ago.
In her first cancer experience, Liz said, “Back in '96 when they said “cancer” I went through all the horror stories. My two youngest children were seven and eight. It was a pretty rugged deal when I had to leave them alone for seven weeks while I went to treatment.”
This time, the options were much further from ideal, “They can't operate because of my ribs. They could theoretically just go in and cut that piece of lung out. But they would have to cut my ribs. They can't cut ribs because they won't heal. They’ll kill me. I wasn't real keen on that.”
So the Klemms returned home, and life went on with the main difference, that Liz started a hobby. “I started making these little animals. I gave them to everybody everywhere I went. Including the people in the waiting room at the doctors.”
Three months later, Liz went for a check-up, “When we went in, they had a look and nothing had changed. The cancer was still pretty much the same size as it was on the first one.”
The doctors told her, “We're not doing chemo or immunotherapy until there are symptoms or problems.”
So for 12 months, Liz kept going for checkups, “In that entire time, it had grown one millimetre.”
The doctors told Liz, “Whatever you are doing, keep doing it!” And she told them, “Well, what I'm doing is making little animals and giving them to people, so I get lots of smiles!”
(Image supplied by Liz Klemm)
The way Liz looks at it is, “I'll just leave a bit more of Liz all over Lismore.”
Liz says she has made hundreds of these little heirlooms and distributed them to as many people. When she thought more about it, she said, “It's funny because a couple of days ago, Allan ordered some more little hangers for them for me. We buy them in 300 at a time. He's done that about six times.”
After some quick maths - that is close to the thousands!
“That's half the problem,” says Liz with a smile in her voice, “Allan’s a complete enabler. He keeps getting on the computer and ordering things for me!”
Allan also likes to watch what Liz calls “rubbish” TV, so it gives her plenty of time to crochet as the pair enjoy each other's company.
Liz started with a book with 15 patterns in it. Then, she started experimenting with her own designs. Ideas would come from anywhere. Liz was out with her granddaughter, who said, “Look Grammy, bin chickens!”
“So I had to work out how to make an Ibis!”
Liz walks around with a bag of 15 to 20 of them to choose from when she gets the opportunity to gift one away.
Can you spot the Ibis in this group? (Image supplied by Liz Klemm)
When she is out shopping, Liz has taken to keeping an eye out, “In supermarkets and when small children are on the verge of playing up, I ask their parents if it's alright if I give them a little animal.
“Nine times out of 10, they're still clutching it when they get to the checkout, and they've behaved themselves.”
There is no doubt that people like Liz need to be celebrated. She is one of Lismore's unsung heroes.