At first, it seemed like nothing more than a simple allergy. She started experiencing intense itching, and red blotches appeared across her skin. I thought it was minor — perhaps a reaction to a new detergent or something she ate. Usually, over-the-counter creams and antihistamines handle these situations. That was my expectation.
But over the days, the itching worsened. The redness spread, and she began having sleepless nights. Every attempt to soothe it — lotions, baths, natural remedies — provided no relief. Even the touch of a bedsheet seemed unbearable. It became clear: this was more than an ordinary rash.
When we went to the doctor, I expected reassurance. Instead, I noticed his serious expression as he asked detailed questions about fevers, weight loss, and other symptoms. Tests and scans were ordered immediately, and a growing sense of worry took hold. The words I never wanted to hear arrived soon after: it wasn’t an allergy. It was cancer.
Hearing the diagnosis felt like the ground disappeared beneath us. My mind kept repeating that single word. At first, I was frozen with fear, guilt, and disbelief. I had assumed it was nothing serious, but now everything had changed in an instant.
The following days involved more testing and discussions about treatment options, from chemotherapy to radiation and targeted therapies. Each option carried its own challenges. Yet through it all, she showed quiet courage — a determination to fight no matter the odds.
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