Children Cancer Stories by Rukh Yusuf – Blog # 248
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.
This week, I want to share the story of Ali, an eight year old boy whose life has been suddenly interrupted by illness. Ali comes from a middle class family and lives with his parents and two younger brothers. His days used to be filled with school, small arguments over toys, and the kind of laughter that echoes in every corner of a home. But everything changed the day the doctors gave his family the news: “Ali had leukemia.”
The moment they heard it, it was too heavy to carry. His mother, who had always been the heart of the home, clutched her scarf so tightly that her fingers turned white. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, filled with tears she could not hold back. “Leukemia,” the doctor said, and for her, the word had no meaning at first only a wave of shock, fear, and helplessness. Ali’s father sat silently, jaw tight, as if trying to hold back an overwhelming tide of panic. Their younger children, sensing something was wrong but not understanding what, looked on with confusion and worry.
For Ali, the word “cancer” didn’t make sense. He noticed that his parents were quiet in a way they had never been before. He noticed the tiredness in his mother’s eyes, the worry in his father’s face. He didn’t yet understand that his frequent bruises and nosebleeds were part of something much bigger. All he knew was that something had changed, and he could feel it in the way his parents looked at him, their hands trembling as they held his.
The days after the diagnosis were heavy. Hospital visits began in quick succession blood tests, bone marrow biopsies, chemotherapy consultations. Ali’s mother moved like a shadow through their home, exhausted, her eyes red from crying quietly when no one was watching. Nights were the hardest. She would sit beside Ali’s bed, brushing his hair back, whispering softly, “It’s going to be okay,” even though she wasn’t sure if it would be. Ali, sensing her worry, would squeeze her hand tightly, offering his own small reassurance in return.
Ali’s younger brothers felt the weight of the illness too, even if they could not yet understand it. They missed the carefree days when Ali’s presence meant laughter and games, not hospital visits and whispered fears. Sometimes, they would peek into his hospital room, and just watching him lie there, pale and quiet, seemed enough to make the world feel heavier.
What struck me about Ali’s family is there were only quiet moments of small courage, tiny hope. A hug after a particularly difficult day, a bedtime story read despite the exhaustion these were the threads that held them together.
The hospital staff became part of their lives, helping them navigate the frightening and unfamiliar world of pediatric cancer. Nurses would gently hold Ali’s hand during blood draws; doctors patiently explained each step of treatment. Social workers tried to ease the emotional load on a family suddenly burdened with fear, uncertainty, and financial strain. Still, despite the care, there was no denying the profound pain of watching a child suffer.
Ali’s story is about ordinary people facing an extraordinary situation. It is about a mother who cries quietly in the night, a father who wrestles with feelings of helplessness, and siblings trying to hold onto some sense of normalcy. It is about living with uncertainty every day and still trying to go through it.
Even in the midst of hardship, hope persists in the smallest ways. Ali smiles when he sees his favorite cartoon, laughs quietly when his younger brothers climb into bed with him, and grips his mother’s hand during hospital procedures. Ali’s journey has just begun, and the road ahead is uncertain. But his story is a reminder of what childhood cancer truly looks like, the quiet struggles, the subtle victories, and the faint lights of hope that families cling to when the world feels impossibly heavy.
For every parent, sibling, or caregiver reading this, Ali’s story reflects human resilience in its quietest form. It is about showing up, even when you are afraid, even when you feel powerless, and finding strength in the small, ordinary ways we care for the ones we love.
Prayers for Ali and all the sick children and their families who have to face this pain of cancer. May Allah make it easy for them. Aameen
Note: “The child’s name has been changed to protect privacy, and the accompanying image is AI-generated.”