The Fear of That White Coat...

        The Fear of That White Coat....

The white coat has haunted me from a very young age. I had always been afraid of that person in the white coat because the sight of an injection in their hand felt like the worst nightmare imaginable. I never thought that one day I would have to face that fear—not for a vaccination or a routine check-up, but for my life.

One day, suddenly, the reports suggested that I had been diagnosed with blood cancer.

“Oh God! What shall I do now?”

That was the only question running through my mind.

With my family beside me, I went to the person in the white coat. The doctor explained that I would have to undergo six sessions of chemotherapy, followed by radiation treatment and regular follow-ups. At such a young age, I was diagnosed with a disease so dangerous that I had never even imagined it could happen to me. I was unaware of what chemotherapy, radiation, or the long journey ahead would actually mean.

But with God's grace and my mother's prayers, I was saved.

Then the chemotherapy began.

The chemotherapy involved injections mixed with different medicines whose names were so difficult for me to pronounce. The treatment would continue for hours, sometimes until five in the evening. There was pain in my body, especially in my back. There were countless thoughts running through my mind, yet there was always a little hope in my eyes.

And beside me sat my mother, holding her precious rosary in her hands.

Every fifteen days, I had to be admitted to the hospital. It wasn't only the chemotherapy. There were regular blood tests and four injections that I had to take in my stomach. Each visit became another battle between pain and hope.

“Uhh… Almighty, please take away this pain. I can't bear it anymore.”

Yet somehow, I remained strong.

I kept telling myself, “After six chemotherapy sessions, I will be all right.”

But the universe had other plans for me.

The greatest nightmare after chemotherapy was radiation. And along with the fear of another treatment came another question—money.

How would I manage it?

At that difficult time, many helping hands came forward. Some were strangers, people who barely knew me, yet they stood beside me when I needed support the most. Their kindness taught me something I will never forget: sometimes, strangers become the family we need during the darkest moments of our lives.

It is strange how life works. The people we expect to stand beside us may not always be there, while unexpected people may reach out their hands and help us survive.

Today, I am still fighting.

I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I have faith. I have my mother's prayers, God's grace, and the strength that this journey has given me.

I only hope that by the end of this year, I will be able to look back at this chapter and say:

“I survived.”

The white coat that once represented my greatest fear became a part of the journey that taught me the greatest lesson of my life—sometimes, courage is not the absence of fear; it is continuing to fight even when you are afraid.

I only hope that the white coat will never betray me throughout my medical journey.