PART 1
At 25 years old, cancer was the last thing I thought I’d ever have to worry about.
I was young.
Healthy.
Busy building my career and enjoying my life.
Cancer belonged to older people.
At least, that’s what I believed.
Then one day, I noticed something unusual.
I felt a lump.
At first, I didn’t panic.
I convinced myself it was probably nothing.
Maybe a swollen lymph node.
Maybe a cyst.
There was no way it could be cancer.
6
I went to the doctor to have it checked.
The doctor ordered tests.
I still wasn’t worried.
I remember thinking:
“Cancer? Me?”
It almost sounded ridiculous.
Then came the biopsy.
And suddenly, my world changed.
The doctor told me I had cancer.
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
I simply couldn’t process what I was hearing.
Me? Cancer?
I was only 25.
There was no way.
I looked at my mom.
She was standing beside me.
And when she heard the diagnosis, she nearly passed out.
5
Everything happened so quickly after that.
Appointments.
Scans.
Blood tests.
More doctors.
More conversations about treatment.
Words I’d never expected to hear at my age suddenly became part of my everyday vocabulary.
Cancer.
Chemotherapy.
Remission.
My life became a schedule of hospital appointments.
I had to put normal life on hold.
Friends continued living their lives.
People went to work.
They made plans.
They went out.
And I was learning how to survive.
