Da Vinci’s Mother, Oksana Kotsiubailo: "In May 2022, doctors gave me three to four months to live. It was Dmytro who insisted that I undergo treatment"
Almost three years ago, she was given a devastating diagnosis: stage IV cervical cancer... Upon learning about it, Dmytro did everything he could to ensure his mother received treatment. Two weeks ago, doctors confirmed: the disease has receded.
Summer 2022. Kyiv. Dmytro Kotsiubailo, known as Da Vinci, and his mother, who was undergoing chemotherapy at the time.
Dmytro called me in May 2022, late at night. He usually texted rather than called. If he dialed — it meant something had happened, or the matter was too serious and important. Over the years of staying in touch with each other, that had become an axiom. I answered the phone and heard Da Vinci… crying. So hard he couldn’t speak. He was sobbing uncontrollably. After pulling himself together a bit, he said: "My mother has been diagnosed with cancer. Save her. Find doctors who can treat her. Do everything for my mom, please." I had never heard or seen the commander of a volunteer unit cry like that. He always tried to stay in control of his emotions. I was lucky he felt he could be honest with me. He often shared personal things and so, in that moment, he allowed himself to cry while talking to me.
The next day, I called Da Vinci’s older sister, Mariana. She already knew about their mother’s diagnosis but didn’t know where to turn — local doctors had said the cancer was already at a stage where nothing could be done. From what I understood, Oksana — the mother of Da Vinci, Ivan, and four daughters — didn’t yet fully realize the severity of her condition. The most important thing was that she was willing to come to Kyiv for further examinations. The doctors in Ivano-Frankivsk had said she needed surgery...
"DIMA ALWAYS MADE ALL THE DECISIONS – AS THE OLDEST AND HEAD MAN IN THE FAMILY"
That day was tough. A senior doctor I’ve known for years examined Oksana and was blunt: surgery was impossible — she wouldn’t survive it. Even visually, the tissues were in such a state that they couldn’t be touched without triggering immediate bleeding. At the first consultation in the capital, the doctors gave their prognosis: "This woman has three to four months left to live... She came for help too late."
I couldn’t bring myself to repeat that to Da Vinci, who was on the Donbas front at the time, fighting every day. How could I possibly tell him something like that, remembering how he cried on the phone? So Mariana and I, who had come to Kyiv with their mother, decided to try one more clinic. Oksana resisted. She didn’t want anything anymore.
"I don’t want any more doctors," she said, shaking her head firmly.
We were lucky that one of the private oncology clinics agreed to see us that same day. A very kind and gentle doctor, Oksana Volodymyrivna, spoke with Dmytro’s mother and eventually persuaded her to agree to an examination and testing. While we waited for the results, Mariana kept stepping outside, sobbing so hard it was painful to watch. She couldn’t imagine anything happening to their mother.
After reviewing the tests and asking Oksana a series of questions, the doctor unexpectedly gave us hope:
"Modern chemotherapy for this particular type of cancer can be highly effective. Some of the new drugs, which we also use, have shown very promising results. Let’s try. Surgery really isn’t an option. But I would recommend starting treatment — and starting it immediately."
We were all a bit surprised, honestly — we had expected to hear something entirely different. Dmytro responded firmly: "Agree to everything, no matter how much the medicine costs. And convince Mom to start the treatment." It seemed like he answered me right in the middle of combat — I could hear explosions in the background of our conversation. Only for his mother could he allow himself to be distracted from the war while on the front line.
- I won’t say it was easy for me to accept my diagnosis," says Oksana Kotsiubailo. "At first, I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. How? Why? I kept asking myself. But the doctors, when they saw the test results and examined me, their expressions would turn very focused, very serious. Back home, in the Ivano-Frankivsk region, no one even tried to treat me. They told me right away: ‘Go to Kyiv — let them decide what to do with you there.’When you hear something like that, what do you think? That it’s the end...
-Who told Dmytro about your illness?
-Mariana. Even though I asked her not to worry Dima. But they never kept secrets from each other, so she told him everything.
- After the diagnosis, did you talk to Dmytro? How did he react to the fact that treatment was recommended?
-No matter what happened in my life, Dima always helped and handled everything, as the eldest and the head man in our family.
Right away, he said: ‘No matter how much the chemotherapy costs, we’ll find the money. Let them do the best treatment. And don’t even think about refusing. We’ll cover everything.’ He even tried to find treatment for me abroad, immediately asking me not to refuse if it meant going far away."
It’s important to note that Dmytro always addressed his mother formally — using "You." Always!
- Before the first round of chemotherapy, I still had to undergo some additional tests and discuss which treatment plan I’d be following. So Dima came to Kyiv from the front line to meet with the clinic’s doctors.
By the way, the medical director of the Varta Clinic — the facility that agreed to treat the mother of a Hero — Serhiy Odarchenko, had mobilized into the Presidential Regiment on February 24, 2022. He provided care for the wounded near Bakhmut. It just so happened that in May 2022, he was stationed in Kyiv and was allowed to visit the clinic in the mornings to oversee its operations. That’s how he was able to meet with Dmytro personally and discuss everything. All issues were resolved. Once the doctors received the results from the tests and additional screenings, Oksana began her first round of chemotherapy.
- "I handled it pretty well," recalls the mother of the Hero of Ukraine."I expected it to be worse, but everything went rather gently. I didn’t have nausea, I didn’t feel weak. I was even surprised. One of the girls, or sometimes all of them, would come with me to Kyiv for the procedure — it took one day, and then I would go home for a week. Dr. Oksana Volodymyrivna was always in touch with me. I could call her if needed, but I don’t think I ever actually did. There simply wasn’t a need. I was prescribed five rounds of chemotherapy. After the third, my hair started falling out. I had expected that — but of course, I still wasn’t ready for the reality of going bald. So Maryana and I agreed: as soon as it started, we’d cut it short. And that’s exactly what we did. But I didn’t want to go around with a bare head, so I wore a headscarf. It made me feel calmer."
"DURING THE YEARS OF WAR, WE CELEBRATED DMYTRO’S BIRTHDAY TOGETHER TWICE. IN 2020, MARYANA AND I CAME TO SEE HIM IN AVDIIVKA, AND IN 2022, WE GATHERED IN DNIPRO."
The doctors at the clinic were satisfied with the results of the chemotherapy. But after that, Oksana still needed to undergo radiation therapy and brachytherapy. The owner of TomoClinic offered her to continue treatment at his other facility — in Kropyvnytskyi.
-I didn’t agree to go there right away. I hoped I could complete that stage of treatment at home," she recalls.
Oksana called me from Ivano-Frankivsk after she had registered at the local clinic and seen the oncologist. They told her how long the wait was for radiation therapy and started looking for a spot — but that wasn’t what scared her:
- While I was sitting in lines outside all the offices I needed to visit, I saw such horrors! There were so many people, so many patients, post-op, weak, bald women, that I felt like dying right there in the hallway…That’s where I made the decision to go to Kropyvnytskyi, to the clinic everyone had been insisting I go to. And I’m glad I did. Even though I had to live in that unfamiliar city for a full two months.
Her eldest daughter stayed with her the entire time.
- We were taken in by a local woman whose son is at war," Oksana continues. - "She treated us like her own family.
- But it turned out we had lost some time," Mariana recalls. "The disease is so sneaky and aggressive that the break in treatment was enough for it to advance again. So, after the tests and screenings done in Kropyvnytskyi, the doctors prescribed another round of chemotherapy for our mom. Only after that did they start the radiation. Of course, Mom was embarrassed about losing her hair, about feeling weak, but we knew exactly why we were doing all this. We also had to make it in time for our youngest sister Karina’s graduation — she was in her final year of school. We had to beat that cancer before she finished her studies.
The winter of 2022–2023 was, in fact, fully dedicated to their mother’s treatment — all the women in the Kotsiubailo family threw themselves into it. They reunited in Dnipro for Dmytro’s birthday — Oksana and Mariana came specially, and Dmytro managed to make it from the front lines.
-"It was the second time during the war that we celebrated my son’s birthday together," says Oksana. "The first time was for his 25th — we surprised him in Avdiivka. This time, he rushed to Dnipro from the front. He was so happy I was getting treatment."
For her son’s 25th birthday, his mother baked his favorite childhood pastries and brought them to his base in Avdiivka.
…Now, his mother can’t even recall how she lived through the spring of 2023. After March 7 — the day Dmytro was killed — she couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t live. Shortly before that terrible day, we had talked with Oksana about her upcoming checkup. The date fell either on March 14 or 16. At Dmytro’s funeral in Kyiv, his mother said to me: "I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I’m not really alive anyway." We — the daughters — pleaded with her to go to Kropyvnytskyi after the nine days of mourning for Dima. Our main argument was: Dmytro would have wanted this. He wouldn’t forgive any of us if we neglected his mother’s health. Her recovery had meant everything to him. After running all the necessary tests, the doctors said with confidence: the disease had receded.
Oksana Ivanivna with her eldest daughter during treatment in Kropyvnytskyi
As more time has passed since the end of treatment, the intervals between follow-up checkups have grown longer. At the most recent one, the doctors said with confidence: "We’re absolutely thrilled that we managed to beat it." That was a year ago.
- "I should be happy that I recovered," says Oksana. "And I truly am — because I’m needed. By my daughters. By my grandson, Sasha. But sometimes it feels like... it would’ve been better if the disease had won — and I hadn’t lived to bury my sons. To hear all these scandals and speculations that people stir up using Dmytro’s name. It’s all very hard for me to bear…"
"IVAN DIED ON DMYTRO’S BIRTHDAY. HE WAS 27 — JUST LIKE HIS BROTHER WHEN HE WAS KILLED. CRUEL COINCIDENCES."
In the photo: The Kotsiubailo family: mother Oksana, her mother, both sons, four daughters and a grandson
When the news broke that Ivan, Oksana's other son, had died, it seemed like a bad joke. Especially since a week before, during a conversation, the woman told me that she had been in the hospital with Ivan, and that he needed to be examined and treated for stomach and pancreatic problems. And then... The news turned out to be true.
- "Ivan had always been sickly since birth," says Oksana. "We’d visit our local hospital with him regularly. But this time, we had finally managed to stabilize his condition, did some extra tests. So the girls and I went to Kyiv to visit Dmytro’s grave on November 1st, his birthday. We wanted to order a memorial service, meet with his friends, and honor our eldest son... We hadn’t even made it to Askold’s Grave when my sister called. She told me that Ivan had taken a turn for the worse during the night. The ambulance had rushed him to the hospital. He was taken in for surgery, but... there was internal bleeding. They couldn’t save him. Ivan was 27 when he died — just like Dmytro when he was killed. And he passed away on his brother’s birthday — the brother he loved so deeply. Cruel coincidences…" Dmytro Savchenko, my son’s comrade-in-arms — who has been constantly helping our family since Dmytro’s death, arranged a car for us, and we rushed home. We handed over Dima’s birthday cake to the church on our way. All these shocks could not but affect my mother's health and state of mind. At that time, she was sent drawings and sketches of the monument that was planned to be erected on Da Vinci's grave on his birthday, but they did not have time.
All of these devastating losses have taken a toll on the mother’s health and emotional state. At the time, people were sending her drawings and sketches of the monument they planned to install at Da Vinci’s grave on his birthday — but it wasn’t going to be ready in time.
- "What was I supposed to approve at that moment?" Oksana says. "For a month, the earth on Dima’s grave had been dug up. There was no cross left, no plaque to even mark that he was buried there. It tore me apart. Together with my daughters and some friends, we put up a cross, candles, and a photo — just to mark the place somehow. On Dmytro’s birthday, we were supposed to meet and discuss what would be done. But then Ivan died…I wasn’t up for it. I just wanted to be left alone. Now and then, I hear people talking about some strange structure that was installed on my legendary son’s grave. And I agree with it. What should be there is a Cossack cross — like the ones on the graves of all the Ukrainian patriots he so deeply respected: Stepan Bandera, Roman Shukhevych, Andrii Melnyk." "I don’t have any official documentation authorizing the installation of that monument on Dmytro’s grave. I don’t know who allowed it or why. That sculpture might be fine in a park or a square — but not on my son’s grave." Dmytro’s brothers-in-arms from his battalion are helping me resolve this issue and make sure everything is done the way it should be.
"You know, sometimes I really regret agreeing to bury Dmytro in Kyiv. I understand that he was a legendary figure, a Hero of Ukraine — that he doesn’t belong only to me, but to the entire Ukrainian people, for whom he gave his life. But now I’m torn in two—on Dmytro’s birthday, I have to be at my younger son’s grave as well...
Violetta Kirtoka, Censor. NET
