The Most Important Thing — Don’t Die in Your Own Mind.

I accepted the challenge immediately — there was no time to negotiate.

Stage 3 cancer.
Surgery was scheduled in just two and a half weeks.

It felt like hitting "the wall" at the 33rd kilometer of a marathon — that moment when your body refuses to go any further. And then, you have a choice: push through and wait for your second wind, or step off the course.

Was I scared? No.
When you come face to face with death, fear disappears.

Was I anxious? Sometimes.
When you’re alone, staring into the unknown.

Did it hurt? Yes. Endure.

Chemotherapy. I never even bothered remembering the names of the drugs they were pumping into me. For me, they were just "Virgin Mojito," "Buratino," "Tarkhun," and "Sex on the Beach."

Did I want to quit? Yes.
I was furious at my own helplessness. Every round of chemo knocked me out for nearly a week. After that, it was just grit and survival.

After the twelfth and final round, when I finally came to my senses, I went to the sea at dawn.

I cried.

Nine months’ worth of emotions — poured out.

Now, I’m living on my second wind.
Because life isn’t black and white — it’s full of color.

"Why me?" — I never asked that question.

"What for?" — That answer is forming every day, piece by piece, in the vibrant, extraordinary, inspiring, and sometimes even mystical moments of life — the ones I’ve had, and the ones still to come.