Help Conrad Get Urgent Spinal Surgery

My name is Arina. I am eighty years old, and this is one of the hardest things I have ever had to write.

This page is dedicated to my son, Conrad. Two of his spinal discs have collapsed and a third is failing. He needs spinal fusion surgery, and our family cannot pay for it. That is the plain reason this page exists. This page and the Back-a-Buddy campaign were set up, and are being managed, with the help of my second-eldest son and his wife.

I want to tell the whole story, in order — the good parts and the difficult ones. I believe that once you understand what has happened, you will understand why our family has had to do something we never imagined we would have to do: ask other people for help.

Conrad is an orthotist and prosthetist. For more than two decades, his work has centred on manufacturing and fitting braces, artificial limbs and other assistive devices for people whose mobility has been limited or lost through injury, illness, amputation or disability.

His relationship with his patients was often very personal. He would walk alongside them through their recovery, sometimes for months, helping them regain mobility and independence.

He began his career in South Africa's public healthcare system before spending nearly twenty years at a public hospital in St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada, where he eventually became a department supervisor. He also lectured at university level and served on the board of Orthotics Prosthetics Canada.

I want to be honest about my pride here, because I am his mother and I think I am allowed that much.

For Conrad, helping people was never simply a job. It was what gave his work meaning. His patients often told him how much they appreciated him going out of his way and staying with them through the hardest parts of their recovery.

After those years in a unionised provincial hospital system, Conrad decided to establish a practice of his own and I am ever so grateful for the support my eldest son gave Conrad in enabling him to do so.

As a sole practitioner, Conrad had to work without a salary or any other remuneration, and without employment benefits such as medical aid and disability insurance, as these would have eaten up any disposable funds, he had available to run the business.

He had also enrolled, earlier in 2022, for a Master of Science in Orthotic and Prosthetic Rehabilitation Science. He was therefore building a new practice and studying at postgraduate level at the same time.

The practice was expected to open relatively quickly. It did not. Inspections, permits and other administrative processes delayed the opening by roughly eight months.

He spent considerable time visiting specialists and doctors, introducing himself and developing professional relationships in the hope of establishing a reliable referral base.

Once the practice finally opened, Conrad ran it entirely on his own, with no operational support. He was responsible for everything: marketing, administration, accounting and day-to-day operations. His former partner subsidised his personal living costs, and he relied on personal lines of credit, accumulating debt to get through for the most part.

At first, it worked. Patients came in and the practice began to find its feet.

Then the referrals declined. Conrad understood this to be connected to territorial and protective behaviour by his former employer toward its existing patient and referral base. For a practice that depended heavily on referrals, the effect was severe.

Conrad did not give up. He went looking for patients himself.

He began driving to neighbouring towns, sometimes more than four hours each way, spending long hours on Newfoundland roads and through difficult winter conditions, to see people who needed his services. Some of those journeys brought in no new business, but he kept going because he was determined to make the practice work.

By January 2024, Conrad's back had begun to deteriorate badly.

At first he did not fully understand what was happening. He knew he was in pain, but he carried on working. He arranged appointments with his local doctor and began the process of obtaining referrals to specialists and the diagnostic tests he needed, which could take months in Canada. Specialist appointments and imaging did not come quickly, and continued to keep working and keep the practice going.

The falling referrals had also made it clear that the practice needed to diversify. Conrad began looking at making rehabilitation services a more significant part of the business. He had a specialist willing to fill that role, and rehabilitation would complement the orthotic and prosthetic work he was already doing.

By early 2024, he had concluded that the driving required to keep the practice alive was no longer possible, either physically or financially. He decided to go ahead with the diversification and bring rehabilitation services into the practice. That meant substantially reworking the premises and buying new equipment.

Once again, Conrad did the work himself.

He gutted and rebuilt the interior over several months while already in significant back pain. There was no staff to hand the work to and no financing available to pay someone else to do it. Whatever money he could put together went either into the building work or into equipment, bought whenever he could find it at a reduced price.

During 2024 he also had to take a full year's leave of absence from his Master's degree. Between the financial pressure, the practice, his failing health and the breakdown of his long-term relationship, there was nothing left to give.

For nearly a year, he went on working through the pain without knowing exactly what was wrong.

The medical investigations carried out in late 2024 and early 2025 finally gave a clearer picture of what was happening in his spine.

The conclusion was devastating: he could not continue as he had been.

The pain had become unbearable, and a single-practitioner practice cannot keep running when the practitioner is physically unable to work. There was nobody else to step in.

His health had made the decision for him and the decision resulted in significant financial loss for both my sons as both investor and owner.

Even then, he did not simply walk away.

Over his final months in Canada, he completed the outstanding work for his remaining patients, because he would not leave people in the middle of their treatment. He cleaned out the premises himself and packed up the equipment he had worked so hard to acquire.

Then he closed the doors on the practice he had spent years building and at the same time as he was bringing a fifteen-year relationship to an end and preparing to leave the life he had made in Canada, and while barely able to move.

By that point, the combination of falling referrals, business expenses, personal debt and his failing health had left him with nothing.

As a family, we did what we could: Over the last two years, we paid for his flights to and from Canada. We helped with his personal debt where we were able to. For close to the final year, we sent money so that he could buy food and cover basic living expenses.

We also had to decide what to do with his belongings and equipment in Canada. We looked seriously at leaving everything in storage, but once we took the exchange rate and the monthly costs into account, it was clear that bringing it all home would be more practical and less expensive in the end.

So, we paid to bring Conrad and his belongings back to South Africa.

He came home in severe pain and with nothing left, hoping that being closer to his family would give him some support, that living costs would be more manageable, and that he would finally be able to access the medical care he needed.

There is another part of this story that I want to tell, because to me it says a great deal about the person Conrad is.

Despite everything that had happened: the pain, the collapse of his business, the financial hardship, the end of his relationship, the move across the world. Conrad went back and completed his Master's degree in Orthotic and Prosthetic Rehabilitation Science.

He completed it in early 2026.

The examination board praised his work and invited him to return and present a guest lecture at the start of each new academic year. His thesis was judged exceptional and is being prepared for publication in a medical journal.

To me, that says everything about his determination and his strength of character.

Today, Conrad's physical condition is far worse.

Two of his spinal discs have collapsed and another is failing. His spinal cord and nerves are compressed in several places, leaving him with severe pain, numbness and growing weakness in his legs. He is also at rising risk of bladder and bowel dysfunction and further loss of function in his lower limbs. Most days, the pain is so severe that he struggles to get out of bed.

Managing that pain has become difficult in its own right. The anti-inflammatory medication he has relied on is making his hypertension harder to control, which raises concern about further strain on other organs, while his prolonged need for pain medication brings the risk of dependency. The medication gives him some relief, but continued use carries real risks. Until the underlying spinal condition can be properly treated, there are few options for managing the pain without creating further complications.

Because of his pacemaker, Conrad cannot have an MRI, which would normally give the clearest picture of his spine. Instead he has to have CT myelograms. The procedure involves a lumbar puncture, the injection of contrast dye into the fluid around the spinal cord, and then a CT scan.

It is invasive, and in Conrad's case it caused a severe flare-up of his nerve pain that took about a month to settle. He has already been through it twice, and will have to go through it again before surgery can be properly planned.

Since Conrad returned from Canada, I have watched him decline in front of me. I see the hours he spends in bed. I see how he walks. I see how hard it is for him to sit down and then stand up again.

The medical team believes spinal fusion surgery is the right intervention to relieve the compression and protect the nerve function he still has. It would also allow him to return to work, where he can once again make a difference in other people's lives.

Our fear is that without timely treatment the nerve damage will become permanent and his mobility will deteriorate further.

That is what frightens me most.

I wish I could say that our family could simply pay for Conrad's treatment.

We cannot.

Conrad's father, my husband, has CANVAS: Cerebellar Ataxia, Neuropathy and Vestibular Areflexia Syndrome. It is a rare, inherited and progressive neurological condition affecting balance, coordination, the sensory nerves and the vestibular organs of the inner ear.

He has been completely bedridden for the past year. He cannot lift himself, feed himself or manage his basic needs. He requires constant care.He should be receiving proper palliative and supportive care, but we cannot afford everything he needs.

That responsibility has fallen largely on our youngest son, who has been caring for his father day and night. He is forty years old. It has affected his work, his career, his mental health and his personal life. He has not had the freedom to build the life many people his age takes for granted. He has simply carried on caring for his father, because there was nobody else to do it.

In early 2021, my husband was scammed out of several hundred thousand rand. He was targeted at a time when his condition had already left him vulnerable, and we are still living with the consequences till this day.

I have chronic health problems of my own, including fibromyalgia, early-onset diabetes and cardiac issues. Our medical aid does not cover all of the treatment and care our family requires.

Our sons contribute what they can: emotionally, financially and physically, but each of them has responsibilities and difficulties of their own. I am thankful to every one of them, and to their wives and our grandchildren, for their support and care.

The last five or six years have been one difficult event after another. Through all of it, we have tried to manage as a family.

We have paid for the tests we could afford in order to secure medical cover for Conrad. We have helped with his travel, his living expenses, his debt and the cost of bringing him home.

We have now reached the limit of what we can realistically do. That is the plain truth, and it is why I am writing this instead of quietly handling it ourselves, as we would much rather have done.

I want to be very clear that this is not for want of family stepping in. Each of my sons has given what he has been able to give: money, time, care, and in some cases a great deal of all three, and they have done so without being asked and without complaint. But a need of this size is more than any one or two people should be expected to carry, however willing they are. Reaching out to the wider community is how we keep that from happening. It is not a substitute for what our family does for one another. It is what allows us to go on doing it.

The funds raised will go toward Conrad's medical treatment and recovery, including:

· Specialist consultations, scans and pre-operative testing

· Hospital, surgeon and anaesthetist fees

· Spinal surgery

· Medication and post-operative care

· Physiotherapy and rehabilitation

· Mobility aids and home care during recovery

As Conrad's treatment plan develops, I will share confirmed medical costs and progress updates, so that those who contribute can see exactly how the funds are being used. You have my word on that.

The weight of these last few years is visible behind the brave smile he still gives us. I see it, even when he thinks I don't.

So this is my plea, as his mother.

Please don't think your donation is too small.

No matter the currency or amount, every donation, no matter how small, makes a meaningful difference and brings us one step closer to our goal. They are not. Many people each giving what they can comfortably afford could make the difference between Conrad accessing treatment and having to go on waiting.

Backabuddy Campaign

If you are able to contribute financially, we will be deeply grateful.

But I also understand that not everyone is in a position to give money.

If you cannot donate, please consider sharing this page with someone who may be able to help. And if all you can do is leave Conrad a message of encouragement, please do that. A kind word costs nothing, but it can mean an enormous amount to someone who has spent years trying to keep going.

We should lift up the people who have spent their lives lifting others.

That is all I am really asking.