“After my son was born in 2015, as I watched him grow, I realized that a parent’s touch or embrace is something that has no price and knows no age. When my son started playing rugby, I got into it too, and it quickly became my favorite sport. After a few years in Milan, however, work took me far from home for an extended stay in Latin America, lasting more than 18 months, through Brazil, Mexico, and Chile. I learned to deeply appreciate my work and the challenges it has brought me over time. I’ve given so much to reach the position I hold now. Over time, I’ve also come to understand how important it is to strengthen bonds with colleagues in order to grow within a company.
Spending so much time abroad, I often felt like I was in the mindset of a child, walking in their shoes, living far from home, in a place where even the language felt foreign, with unfamiliar foods, new ways of doing things, and cultural norms that seemed so very different. Through my work abroad, I began to understand my son more deeply—his fears, his moments of holding back, and his need for the comforting presence of a family that could provide him with as much peace as possible.
After a period in Spain before the COVID-19 pandemic, I was also eager to return closer to my family, so I decided to take on a new job opportunity near home. Back in Milan, I started training in rugby again with the local team I’d always been part of, which my time abroad hadn’t allowed me to keep up with consistently. After resuming some training, though, I started noticing a significant physical change. I couldn’t handle the physical contact like I used to. I bruised easily, and when I fell, I felt much heavier than I was, as if my bones were made of lead. I immediately suspected a more serious physical issue.
In 2020, I went for routine tests to monitor dyslipidemia and diabetes. During the check-up, my doctor noted monoclonal abnormalities that required a more specific hematology consultation, so he referred me to a hematologist.
During this time, I also developed a bacterial pneumonia from which I recovered very quickly. In the specialist hematology check-up that followed, my results showed marked improvement. But many questions and doubts remained, especially regarding the seemingly random origin of this pneumonia, which we all thought stemmed from the recently diagnosed monoclonal abnormality.
Despite the treatment and my full recovery from the pneumonia, the abnormalities didn’t stop, and as time passed, things returned to their previous state. So, it was decided to further investigate my hematological condition, which had been so unpredictable over time.
In June 2023, Myelodysplastic Syndrome, a disorder related to blood cell production, became a part of my life. From June onward, even though I continued my daily activities, celebrations, and vacations, fatigue robbed me of the strength to fully enjoy these moments. I remember having terrible headaches that seemed never-ending.
At the end of September, following recent hematology tests, I received a call advising me to go to the emergency room as soon as possible for an urgent transfusion. I went to the ER expecting a brief stay, thinking the transfusion would be quick.
Unfortunately, that was only the beginning. After a few checks, I was given a new, different diagnosis: Myelodysplastic Syndrome had transformed into Acute Myeloid Leukemia. From that day on, the hardest battle of my life began: the fight against the disease.
My wife has been the most important part of my life, along with my son. We met as teenagers and have been through so much together. To this day, she has always encouraged me not to give up, to listen to my body, every single cell, and to urge them to resist and fight. Although I consider myself a cautious optimist, even knowing that chemotherapy alone won’t be enough and that I’ll need a stem cell transplant, I’m sure that with the help of my wife and my son, who is worried but supportive, we’ll succeed in eradicating this illness. All things considered, I’m feeling well now. The chemo seems to have been effective, and the illness appears to be gradually fading away.
Today, I think a lot about my life, about my family’s life, and the priorities we’ll embrace together with this fresh start after defeating the disease. I believe I’ll give work the time it deserves, focus on it only when necessary, and spend most of my time with my family and the close friends who supported me throughout this period of hardship.
I’ve never hidden my illness. I’ve shared my fears and pains with many friends and colleagues. I’ve never felt ashamed of feeling vulnerable. In the hospital, I met wonderful people, others who, like me, were fighting to find peace amidst their fear and suffering. Then, there was the medical and nursing staff, whose work I found to be exceptional, both professionally and humanely. They were always there with a smile, a joke, or an extra act of kindness, which made my difficult journey a little lighter.
What remains incredibly human about being weak is that we are reborn alongside those who walk through and overcome the “sick moment” with us. I know that I owe my life to everyone who has stood by me. I was NEVER alone.
And especially to those who remain in the background, those who didn’t heal me directly, like all those who thought of me or sent a prayer, or the anonymous blood donors who save lives every day, including mine—I want to send a direct embrace and say thank you.
When I was diagnosed with leukemia, I never fell into deep despair, nor did I curse the heavens or the earth. In the end, I never backed down or feared the illness. The wounds this battle has left me with are many. But the scars it left remain on my body, not in my mind. I am reborn with a new way of seeing life, one that is more respectful and less brash toward it. And I am committed to giving back the love I received, to the next person in need who will need a shoulder to lean on and rediscover hope, just as I had.”
