23/05/2026
We lost a friend...
Another life gone. So young. Just 34.
Leaving behind a child without a father and a wife, parents and family carrying unimaginable grief.
And while we often speak about the pain of the patient — which is real and profound — I also think today about the ones left behind.The families, the partners, the children, the caregivers… who must somehow continue living while carrying that loss within them.
Even after everything I know now about life, healing, and acceptance, moments like this still bring up the question:Why?
He left before he could fully gather and explore his options.Treatments still felt like trial and error.
And once again I wonder — with all the advancement in medicine, research, and clinical trials, why are cancer cases still rising? Why are deaths still rising? And why do rare cancers continue to receive the least attention?
It reminds me how much work is still left to do.
Not only in medicine and research —but also in how we support the emotional, mental, spiritual, and human pain carried by both patients and caregivers.
Because healing is not only physical.
Grief changes people.
Loss changes people.
Yes, over time, life can become lighter again.Yes, grief can soften and become something we learn to live beside.And yes, healing is possible — emotionally, mentally, spiritually — when we consciously choose it.
But these aspects are often addressed last, if at all, within the larger system of care.
There is still so much work to do.
Every loss and pain touches something deep within me. Each loss is a reminder — of the fragility of life, of what so many endure quietly, and of the invisible weight carried by patients and families alike.
We often talk about survivor’s guilt, but for me these moments feel heavy as they bring up deeper human experiences of illness, loss, and healing — and deepen my compassion for everyone walking this path. Know that you are not alone 🤍
