Aida Zabidi
He is a wizened, skeletal husk of a man. The cancer has eaten away at his flesh, leaving skin which stretches across his bony prominences, stretched so tightly across his skull that it seems I can see underneath the face of the man.

He smiles at me as we do our rounds, surrounded by his family, and I am buoyed by his optimism.

He has had cancer for four years, been operated on twice and has undergone four courses of chemotherapy and radiotherapy. He is currently admitted for complications of the cancer and for nutritional support, to prepare and strengthen him for another upcoming operation.

He is always with family, and his wife and daughter are always there, holding his hand.

Despite his ordeal, his spirit seems unbroken. He always smiles. He is always polite and positive. He never seems to berate the medical staff or blame the universe for the fate that has befallen on him. His family always smiles. 

He helps us keep our spirits up, the spirits of his treating doctors and medical staff. He helps us believe that good things will happen.

I admire his spirit. 

He looks like a husk of a man. But his spirit makes him more than all that.
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