PETALING JAYA, May 28 — For one breast cancer patient, the fight against cancer isn’t limited to hospital wards and treatment rooms — it extends to navigating layers of bureaucracy in a desperate attempt to access her own retirement savings.
Facing uncertainty over the cost of her next 13 Herceptin infusions, Erna Mahyuni made the pragmatic choice to dip into her EPF savings. “I decided to withdraw some of my EPF money ‘just in case’,” she said, aware that depending on donations indefinitely wasn’t sustainable, especially when others might be in greater need.
Despite the efficient appearance of the EPF branch near the Taman Jaya LRT station, her repeated visits — none lasting more than 15 minutes — became a test of resilience. The problem? Endless paperwork, confusing policies, and shifting requirements. “No one told me it would be this challenging,” she admitted.
Caught Between Hospitals and Paper Trails
Her treatment journey spans both private and public hospitals — a necessity due to urgency and financial considerations — but that has complicated her application. “If you hop between various private and public hospitals, EPF will find it confusing,” she explained, highlighting how the fund often requires a medical report from each institution, regardless of time and cost.
Delays in obtaining reports from public hospitals like HKL (sometimes up to three months) further compound the problem. Meanwhile, the EPF has encouraged her to seek help from Socso instead, echoing tactics typically associated with insurance companies.
A Race Against Time and Cancer
Erna’s financial calculations are razor-thin. After paying RM21,200 out-of-pocket for four rounds of Perjeta — aided by donations — she has barely enough to cover 13 rounds of Herceptin, and that’s assuming prices don’t increase. And the journey isn’t over. She’s awaiting test results after surgery to ensure no cancer cells remain, with radiation treatment still pending and the possibility of further chemotherapy if necessary.
“It’s not just about treatment,” she said. “It’s the travel, private GP visits, and sometimes just the cost of ordering food when cooking is impossible.”
Red Tape or Red Alert?
One particularly frustrating requirement was a letter from her employer stating they weren’t covering her medical expenses. A generic letter wasn’t enough — she had to include detailed disclaimers clarifying that she wasn’t claiming any insurance or reimbursements.
What stands out is her deep empathy. Despite her own physical and emotional exhaustion, she worries for others facing even greater challenges without support or access to transport. “It must be so hard for people far sicker than me,” she said.
Had she waited for EPF approval before beginning treatment, she fears she may not be alive. “Imagine — I might have Stage 3 or 4 cancer now.”
Pain, Laughter, and a Drain Tube
Despite everything, Erna retains a sense of gallows humour. Recounting a painful drain tube removal gone sideways — “there’s a lot coming out,” one nurse remarked with concern — she quipped that her cancer journey feels less like a medical emergency and more like a grim TV comedy.
“My cancer journey feels like the medical version of The Office, written by a sadist.”
“Tune In Next Week…”
As she waits — again — for EPF’s decision, she clings to the one thing cancer hasn’t taken away: her voice.
“Whenever some new fork in the road appears I just think to myself: ‘At least I’ll have something to write about.’”
But behind the writing is a plea that should resonate with every Malaysian:
Let patients use their own money when they need it most.
