Choo with her husband Ben, their newborn and their dog. The thought of her daughter growing up without a mother has strengthened her resolve to keep fighting cancer.
Dr Choo Mei Sze (PhD Development Psychology) is glowing. At 38, the mother-of-one still carries a fresh, youthful charm—cheeks flushed in soft pink, polished brows and eyes that seem to brighten the moment she flashes her smile.
Clad in a crisp white puff-sleeve top paired with high-waisted beige trousers, and her hair softly parted to the side, she is a picture of elegance.
Behind that graceful exterior, few would guess the battle she quietly fights. Choo is confronting colorectal cancer for the second time in ten years—this time at Stage 4.
“I still try to look as good as I can. I do my hair, I try to wear something nice and still smile, even when I go for treatment. I won’t let cancer define me,” Choo shares.
Bolt from the blue
Choo was at the peak of her life at age 27 when she was diagnosed with colorectal cancer.
She was pursuing her PhD in Developmental Psychology from the University of Hawaii, launched her own social media company PersonEdge, and was a familiar face in Malaysia’s media scene, hosting TV programmes and emceeing events.
She had just returned from the United States after successfully defending her dissertation when, barely a month later, persistent diarrhea set in. What seemed harmless at first stretched on for three worrying weeks.
As a young, active and fit woman, she didn’t think much of it until her scope results came back and life shifted in an instant.
“I cried for days,” she recalls, noting how her boyfriend—now husband—Ben, cried with her.
“On the fourth day, I woke up and decided when I'm going to take the results that I'm going to stop crying. Because I wanted to be strong for the people around me,” Choo confides.
Surgery followed, along with months of slow, exhausting recovery—re-learning bowel control and adjusting to life with a colostomy bag.
“My work required me to be out in public, but with a colostomy bag after surgery? I didn’t know how to hide it,” she shares.
While treatment required money, it was the sudden loss of income that weighed on her most. She couldn’t work, couldn’t do what she loved, and fatigue would overwhelm her after just a few hours.
Then life dealt her another blow: she discovered her critical illness coverage had lapsed, and no one had informed her. True to her resilient spirit, she refused to give up. She fought to have her policy reinstated—and succeeded.
When the payout of RM100,000 finally came through, it wasn’t just about the money. She felt profoundly grateful for having critical illness protection when she needed it most—not only for the financial support, but for the peace of mind and practical resources it provided to reclaim her strength and quality of life.
That lifeline allowed her to hire a personal trainer and begin the slow, determined journey of rebuilding her health.
Turning pain into purpose
In the years that followed, Choo reclaimed her life piece by piece. She travelled. She earned her PhD. She kept fighting, surrounded by her family and the friends who refused to let her fall.
But even with a full heart, there was a hollow space she couldn’t ignore—the kind of loneliness that comes from battling something so heavy at an age when most people around her couldn’t understand.
Encouraged by friends, Choo began blogging about her experience, using writing as an outlet. Her honest, raw entries went viral, something she had never anticipated.
“That's when I realised how much people needed information and awareness,” she recalls, adding that the conversations and responses empowered her to do more.
It wasn’t long before National Cancer Society Malaysia approached her to be their youth ambassador—a role she still carries with pride, using her voice to raise awareness and give young Malaysians the knowledge she once didn’t have.
Sharing her cancer journey online helped Choo cope and created awareness, leading to her unexpected influence and advocacy role.
A new fight
Years of advocacy and a thriving company marked Choo’s life. She graced magazine covers, hosted talks and used every platform to raise awareness.
And after years of trying through in-vitro fertilisation, she and Ben finally received the news they had been praying for: they were expecting in 2024.
But during an overseas trip while enjoying the glow of pregnancy, Choo was suddenly struck by excruciating pain near her tailbone.
What she initially thought was lingering discomfort turned out to be the unthinkable—a recurrence of colorectal cancer.
“The first time I went through it was one thing, but the second time was even more challenging, much harder. This time, my biggest fear was whether I would live to see my daughter grow up,” Choo confides.
This time, it was a rare and aggressive form of the disease, far too risky and complicated for surgery.
Her only hope lay in immunotherapy, a powerful but costly treatment that amounts to RM22,000 every three weeks and now, a staggering RM30,000 every month.
Money pains
As a cancer patient, Choo can no longer take out critical illness insurance. For now, her treatment is supported by her savings and help from her in-laws which she feels tremendously guilty about.
“I always talk to people about insurance,” Choo says reflecting on the financial strain the cancer has caused her.
She sees a common pattern among young Malaysians: insurance gets pushed aside, a “I’ll deal with it when I’m older” kind of mindset.
“But by the time you’re 45 and finally decide to buy a plan, the premiums are already so expensive. And what if you need coverage before that?
“Then you’re not protected at all, and that’s the real problem. A majority of my group of friends do not have insurance simply because they’re young,” she adds.
Choo praises Malaysia’s government hospitals and their top-notch specialists and affordability. But she also knows all too well that when every day counts, waiting is not an option.
It’s moments like these that show why having critical illness insurance isn’t just about money.
Choo stresses the importance of early insurance coverage, pointing out that young Malaysians often postpone it, leaving them vulnerable.
Preparing for the unexpected
Insurance for critical illnesses has come a long way, evolving to meet real-life challenges faced by people like Choo.
For AIA, their newly introduced A-Plus Critical Multi plan is summed up in its promise: Protecting You, Again and Again.
The plan covers 180 types of critical illnesses across early to advanced stages, and unlike traditional coverage that pays for only one claim, it is designed to allow policyholders to make multiple claims.
AIA’s A-Plus Critical Multi plan also features a Re-diagnosis Benefit. This provides coverage if an illness comes back and offers extra protection for cases such as persistent cancer, metastatic cancer, or the same cancer resurfacing, helping ease the financial burden of long-term treatment.
Additionally the plan’s Power Reset feature restores full coverage after a person recovers from an early-stage illness, allowing policyholders to remain fully protected if the illness later develops into an advanced stage.
Choo sums it up in a line that resonates deeply: “You might never need to use your critical illness insurance in your lifetime, but you’ll be relieved knowing it’s there. And if you do end up needing it, you’ll be incredibly grateful that you have it.”
To find out more about AIA’s A-Plus Critical Multi plan, go to https://www.aia.com.my/en/our-products/health-protection/critical-illness-protection/a-plus-critical-multi.html
