Warriors and Survivors - 278

Children Cancer Stories by Rukh Yusuf - Blog # 27

I am Rukh Yusuf, Clinical Pharmacist, also specialized in Total Parenteral Nutrition and Bone Marrow Transplant. I have worked in the Pediatric Oncology unit of a public hospital. The mission of this blog is to bring to you the real-life stories of child patients suffering from cancer. Cancer is still a difficult disease to handle and treat. However, when it strikes the children, some so young that they cannot even speak, their agony is beyond expression and words. Let us pray especially for children suffering from cancer for early and complete remission. May Allah shower His Merciful Blessings upon them. Aameen. 

The Days That Became Hospitals

At three years old, he does not know the word leukemia.

He does not know why the adults around him have become quieter. He does not understand why his mother looks at him for a little longer than she used to, or why her eyes sometimes fill with tears when she thinks he is not looking. He does not know why his father watches him so closely now, noticing every little change in his face, his appetite, his energy.

He only knows that his days have changed.

There are more visits to the clinic now. More waiting rooms. More unfamiliar faces, medicines, examinations, and hospital corridors. Sometimes his mother holds his hand tightly while they wait. Sometimes she tries to smile and talk to him about ordinary things his favorite toy, what he wants to eat, what they will do when they go home.

For him, the hospital is becoming another place in his small world.

For his family, it is something much larger.

His mother is with him almost constantly. She learns the names of medicines, remembers appointments, listens carefully when doctors explain what will happen next, and tries to keep track of details that seem too important to forget. Between these moments, there are quiet tears. Not because she wants him to see her sadness, but because sometimes there is simply nowhere else for it to go.

His father has changed too, although perhaps he would not say so himself.

He looks at his son differently now. Not necessarily with fear, and not always with sadness, but with a kind of attention that was not there before. He watches him play. He notices when he becomes tired. He remembers small things that once might have passed unnoticed. Sometimes he simply sits nearby and watches.

His siblings are trying to understand the changes in their own way.

They may not fully understand leukemia either. They only know that their brother needs more time, more care, and more attention. So they try to be close to him. They bring him toys. They sit beside him. They may ask when he is coming home from the hospital or why he cannot do certain things anymore.

The whole family begins adjusting to a new routine that none of them expected.

This is one of the quieter realities of pediatric oncology.

When a child is diagnosed with cancer, it is not only the child who enters the healthcare system. Parents, siblings, grandparents, and other caregivers are suddenly drawn into appointments, treatments, uncertainty, financial concerns, changes in work and school, and long periods of waiting. Ordinary family routines can become difficult to maintain.

And through all of this, the child may not understand what is happening.

A three-year-old may not understand a diagnosis, but they understand separation. They understand when their parent is worried. They notice when home feels different. They notice when familiar routines disappear.

This is why pediatric oncology is about more than treating a disease.

It is also about helping a child remain a child as much as possible.

It means creating spaces where children can play, learn, ask questions, and feel safe. It means supporting parents who are trying to make decisions while carrying their own fears. It means remembering siblings who may quietly struggle with changes at home. It means recognizing that treatment affects an entire family, even when only one person receives the diagnosis.

For this little boy in Isfahan, leukemia is still only a word he does not know.

He knows the clinic.

He knows the hospital.

He knows his mother's hand.

He knows his father watching.

He knows his siblings staying close.

And perhaps, for now, that is enough.

As pediatric oncology continues to advance, awareness must grow alongside treatment. Childhood cancer is not only a medical story written in laboratory results, scans, medications, and treatment plans. It is also a family story made up of ordinary days that suddenly become unfamiliar, quiet moments in hospital rooms, and parents trying to make the next day feel as normal as possible.

Sometimes, awareness begins simply by seeing that story.

May he recovers soon, stay healthy and live a beautiful healthy life. Aameen

Note: Patient name has been changed to protect privacy.