Week 2 – Monday

Monday: Repeat. Relinquish. Reset.

The weekend tested me. My body struggled to sync with the protocol, infusions threw off my digestive system, and exhaustion weighed me down. But by Saturday afternoon, I managed to step outside, explore the nearest town, and share a meal with my husband and the wonderful Algerian sisters, one of whom was also a patient. We dined at a charming Moroccan restaurant. Patient A (names withheld for privacy) and I barely touched our soup, but what mattered was seeing our caregivers savor their well-earned meal. They deserved that moment of joy, they are, after all, our unwavering pillars of support. Evening prayer, followed by a warm bed and the comfort of a hot water bottle, soothed me into much-needed sleep.

On Sunday, hubby and I took a peaceful walk through the park surrounding the treatment center, and to my delight, we stumbled upon a hidden rose garden tucked beyond the thicket of the forest. The fragrant blooms, the whispers of the trees, and the melodies of birdsong—all of it reminded me of Allah’s creation and generosity. As I walked, a verse played over and over in my mind: “Fabi ayyi ala i rabbikuma tukazziban”—“So which of the favors of your Lord would you deny?” This powerful verse, repeated throughout Surah Ar-Rahman, Chapter 55 of the Qur’an, serves as a reminder of the countless blessings bestowed upon us. Standing amidst such beauty, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Alhamdulillah/Praise God.

Monday’s protocol resumed at 9:00 a.m. with full-body hyperthermia, guided by the ever-gentle Nurse Hung. I once again reached optimal fever, 39.7°C, holding steady at 39.5°C as required. The two-hour session was intense, purifying, cathartic. This time, I wasn’t climbing blessed Mount Arafah, I was running a marathon for cancer. In my mind, I saw my late father, sister-in-law, and uncle, all taken by cancer, smiling and cheering me on. Nurse Hung, with her endless patience, ensured my comfort, cooling my head, neck, and hands with damp cloths. Her care reminded me that healing is more than treatment, it’s human kindness. This place embodies that ethos of dignity and respect, a model of care that should be universal. It makes me reflect, have we forgotten our humanity?

Shifting my thoughts toward hope, I pictured the heat incinerating cancer cells, my immune system awakening like a warrior ready to battle. The session left me exhausted yet exhilarated, and I welcomed a restful hour before my next treatment, holistic massage.

I am not exaggerating when I say this was the best massage I have ever had in my entire life. The therapist, V, was a master, an artist, a healer. Every movement, every technique felt intentional, powerful, restorative. The oils awakened my senses, melting away the fatigue and discomfort of the weekend. By the time the session ended, I was utterly relaxed, renewed, and ready to take on the week ahead.

Hubby was on his way back to the Netherlands, and being alone in the apartment was strangely okay. I missed him, of course, but I knew I had to brave on and focus on my healing. The day was spent updating my blogs so you all could stay informed on my journey, my shenanigans, my moments of clarity and challenge. I hope they are useful to you and perhaps even inspire some of you to look beyond traditional protocols.

As I sat in the quiet of the evening, wrapped in the warmth of my blanket, I felt a gentle reassurance settle in my heart. Healing is not only in the treatments, in the science, but in these moments of stillness—in faith, in gratitude, in embracing the small joys that surround us. The scent of the lingering massage oils, the memory of laughter shared over dinner, the whispers of the trees on my Sunday walk—each of these is a reminder that even in struggle, beauty persists. I am learning, growing, and surrendering to the journey with trust & Tawakkul.

Tomorrow will bring its own challenges, its own victories, but for now, I allow myself to rest, to breathe, to simply be.