Author’s Note – I write this article as a medical doctor, learning through the experience of a survivor. Consent to write, share and publish her story was given by the survivor. The dates in the story have been changed to maintain confidentiality. I have tried my best to not dilute her words and her experiences.
A Letter from a Cancer Survivor
As we begin, I would like to clearly mention I do not want pity or freebies from anyone; all I want is for people to understand my pain (physical and emotional).
My story begins as with most women in Kashmir. I loved studying, so I studied hard. I completed my master’s degree and subsequently completed my doctorate studies from Kashmir University. I qualified for an examination conducted by the public service commission and got a job, first in the private sector then in the government sector.
Before getting the government job, getting good matches for my marriage was a tedious task for my parents. But as soon as I got a government job, good proposals started coming my way in huge numbers. I got married, and I have two children born out of cesarean section. At the time, there was no debate on cesarean surgeries being unnecessary or commercially motivated. And yes, the birth of a girl child back in 2009 was not something to be celebrated and rejoiced in Kashmir. Despite all my travails, I was satisfied with the family I had and understood that no one lives a perfect life.
Where it all Began
My troubles started in 2013, when I was first diagnosed with Diabetes and Hypertension. At the time, I consoled myself by saying “everybody takes medicine for some ailment, hardly anyone is healthy nowadays.” In 2015, I started to have severe pain in the right side of my body, and from here on visiting doctors of almost all specialties became routine for me. I visited everyone, from Gynecologists to Surgeons to Endocrinologists. All investigations were normal including the CT scan and MRI. Yet, the pain continued, at times masked by my own hectic working schedule between the office and home. In 2018, I was diagnosed with a “Frozen Shoulder” by an Orthopedic surgeon. And thereafter medication and physiotherapy became the new norm. I sought second opinions from many Orthopedics, who confirmed the ailment as a “Frozen shoulder”. In 2019, at the age of 44, I got the shock of my life when my investigations showed I had OVARIAN CANCER – Stage 1.
This shock was exacerbated by the way the doctor broke this news to me. The doctor very casually informed me about the test results. At that moment, I thought I would collapse. I was emotionless like a frozen body. I have come to understand over time that most doctors are not trained to narrate such sensitive news to a patient; in Kashmir rates of all types of cancers have increased, but training of doctors in breaking this news remains primitive. The patient is handed the tests to be done and asked to come back. (Even in 2025 many confirmatory tests are sent outside Jammu and Kashmir, hence a patient has to wait for the results.) The wait could last from a day to a month.
Many patients do not survive this waiting period without ever experiencing a doctor’s empathy. Even if they survive, they come out psychologically bruised.
After one month, my tests confirmed what doctors and I had feared.
The next stop in my journey: Chemotherapy at a Government Hospital
I underwent chemotherapy for 2 months, while my children continued their schooling. How they passed their exams (with distinction) only they and God knows. During my visits to the government hospital, waiting in queues became painful for me, so on the suggestion of a surgeon working there I underwent a surgery at a private hospital. The surgery was completed and I was discharged after 20 days. I thought then, “now I will live a happy life, if not a healthy one”.
Very quickly after my surgery I encountered the first disappointment, the principal of the college I worked at sanctioned my medical leave under the casual leave provision. Then too, I would have thought it negligible as long as I was healthy. Now moving to my domestic situation, it’s a fact that most married women in India face domestic violence and so here too there is nothing special to talk about. Domestic violence had physically and emotionally bruised my soul and body. I endured it as part of life. Due to the violence, my patience was already low, my self-esteem was low but the cancer treatment, and the actions of my college principal hurt me the most.
In 2022, I suspected that I was suffering from some never-ending infection and visited my surgeon. The esteemed surgeon told me that the mesh implanted during ovarian surgery was damaged [no reason given] and I just needed a few antiseptic dressings to stop the infection. What can ordinary patients like me do but oblige. But these dressings became regular. I visited the hospital 20 to 25 times and finally after a few months I was informed that the mesh needed to be replaced. So I underwent another surgery.
By 2023, 2024 once again I thought that my health was improving. In January of 2025 I noticed a swelling in my breast.
Many gynecologists said it was nothing serious and I was exaggerating. Some even ridiculed me for attending breast cancer awareness seminars. They said that they deal with such cases on a daily basis and that my thoughts were obsessive.
I did not know how to think of my own pain in the face of professional opinions. What does one say, when you are told you are exaggerating? At the same time, I was anxious and fearful about what was to come. It was difficult to decipher what was real and what was part of my anxiety. There was no one to talk to and there were many days when I did not want nights to end, I did not want to get out of my bed and face realities of life which were meaningless to me at that stage.
Finally, in March they said that for my satisfaction I can do a few investigations which according to them will nullify my fears. I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer Stage I. Once again in 2025, the doctors prescribed another round of chemotherapy. But before that, as usual some confirmatory tests had to be sent outside JK. So I visited a government hospital again, but this time queues were longer, so I was told to wait. To me this is a sign of how the rates of breast cancer have increased in Kashmir, although like most mothers I breast fed my children.
So, I visited a private chemotherapy centre not far away from the hospital, to install a “chemo port”. During the procedure, my right hand was hurt and I needed physiotherapy. To end my narration, I went in for breast removal surgery. After 2 days at the hospital, I was discharged. And now I am undergoing radiotherapy at a government hospital as radiotherapy is not performed in the private sector.
A Request
You can rightly say I feel bitter about all that has happened, but for now, in my case I have referred to God that is why I avoid mentioning names of doctors or hospitals. Who knows from the beginning when the cesarean section was performed to my radiotherapy now – doctors are doing their best?
Looking back now, I thought and hoped that the female principal of my college would be empathetic, or that someone from the government or department of education would have supported me through offering accommodations in terms of my work responsibilities or at the very least allowed the required medical leave for my recovery from a terminal illness. But I hoped in vain. I was not asking for any favors but just rights given to me by existing laws.
Through this letter I want to ask everyone, “what more can a common person like me do to get justice?” In this long journey of recurrent pain and treatment I have exhausted all my resources. So now I have left all decisions to the court of God, I do not want to feel bitter, I want to live a life where I have peace of mind; leaving all to God gives me this option of peace and harmony in my life.
I write this letter, because I want people to know what it’s like to live a life in and out of hospitals with this kind of pain. I want you to imagine how distressed one feels after a simple tooth extraction or dental filling, and then think of us -cancer survivors and our chemotherapy, and the endless procedures we have to go through. Kindly do not pity survivors like me, we do not need that, we need acknowledgement and validation of our pain and trauma (systemic and institutional).
Trauma does not just live in memory. It lives in the body, in perception, in how the world treats us and in how (un)safe the world feels.
Concluding Note
For many trauma survivors, the true ongoing pain stems not from the original event itself, but from what follows: the dismissal, minimization, or debate of their fears and harm. When such experiences are invalidated, the nervous system registers that even voicing or naming the harm feels dangerous and unsafe. This process is known as traumatic invalidation, which intensifies existing wounds and conditions people to doubt their own perceptions and reality rather than trust them. True safety cannot be rebuilt through logical arguments, explanations, or persuasion. Instead, it is restored through validation—by genuinely listening, believing the person’s experience, and upholding their dignity. When someone expresses feeling unsafe, the most healing response is to pause rather than rush to explain or defend; simply being present carries far greater weight than trying to convince them otherwise. In essence, the piece emphasizes that emotional safety in relationships depends on empathetic presence and belief, not intellectual debate, as the nervous system prioritizes felt security over reasoned reassurance. This message aligns closely with trauma psychology principles (e.g., polyvagal theory and invalidation’s role in re-traumatization) and appears in therapeutics, survivor advocacy, and social media discussions around harm acknowledgment.
Arif Maghribi Khan
Dr. Arif Maghribi is a doctor by training based out of Kashmir. He has experience in health and mental health research in India. He writes this article through the experience of a cancer survivor. He hopes that through this writing, he can raise awareness about institutional accountability at the systemic level—where governments, institutions, and public health authorities work together to strengthen services, improve access to care, and ensure timely diagnosis and treatment for all - not just medical institutions but other supporting institutions.