The doctors words hung heavy in the air, "stage 3 lymphoma". The fear and uncertainty swirling around me like a joke. A 40-60% chances of survival? It felt like a cruel joke.

But amidst the darkness, a flame of hope flickered. The help of Allah almighty and the support of my family and friends felt like a warm blanket keeping me safe from the cold reality. With their unwavering belief in me, I know knew I couldn't give up.

The weeks that followed were a blur of chemotherapy and radiation sessions. Each treatment took away my strength but with each passing day I grew stronger. I fought the nausea, the fatigue, the hair loss and many other things. 

This fight wasn't just physical. Depression and anxiety became my unwanted companions, whispering doubts and fear in my ear.

Slowly, cancer grip loosened. The darkness lifted, replaced by a tiny spark of hope. Today, I stand here, a survivor.

Cancer may have left its scars, both visible and unseen, but it could not break my spirit. Instead, it revealed the depth of my strength. My journey has been long, but it has shown me the beauty of life and the importance of cherishing each precious moment especially with friends and family.