How I Learned to Appreciate Each and Every Moment

Despite what I wrote in my blog's sub-header (see above), it is about much more than my fight against cancer. It's about all the events in my life from the past two years, disease-related or not, that have had an impact on me. And no events impacted me more than the deaths of two friends just over a year ago.

I lost two 26-year old friends within the span of one month, both due to tragic accidents, in early 2008. They passed away in between my lung surgery in November 2007 and before my disease recurred in March 2008, a period of time when I thought I was cancer-free.

The first, Sumit, was a college friend and housemate. He suffered a brain injury in an accident which he could not recover from. You won't meet many people like Sumit. He had a very charismatic personality which drew people in like mosquitoes to a bug zapper (of course he wouldn't zap them when they came close). He was a fun-loving, intelligent and generous person with an infectious smile and laugh. We had our differences in school, but I had a lot of respect for him. Although we hadn't kept in touch too well since leaving Michigan, anytime we saw each other it seemed like no time had passed.

I was always amazed at how Sumit so effortlessly made friends. I think it had a lot to do with the way he paid attention and took an interest in your life when speaking to you. He was someone who cared about his friends, and showed it in so many ways. That's why it came as no surprise to me when I heard that friends and colleagues from every part of his world attended his memorial services in New Jersey and Chicago to celebrate his life. I wasn't able to attend either one because I was still recovering from my lung surgery at the end of 2007, but I wish I could have been there to honor him.

Before the shock of Sumit's passing had worn off, another friend passed. Ali, a childhood friend who I had known for almost 15 years, was killed in a mid-air collision of two fighter jets off the coast of Florida. He was an Air Force fighter pilot and was flying one of the jets.

Ali was an amazing friend and an inspiration to me in so many ways. He is the only person I have ever known who ended up doing what he dreamed of doing as a 12-year old. He wanted to become a fighter pilot then, and he never let go of that dream. He was unique in that he always stayed true to himself, never altering his personality for anyone. I truly admired and respected him for his unique sense of humor and his intelligence. He was even a caring guy, though he had a funny way of showing it (you can talk to his younger brother Ibrahim about that).

Fortunately, I had recovered enough at that point to be able to attend Ali's funeral in Florida. It was one of the saddest, yet inspirational, experiences of my life. I say inspirational because the burial ceremony blended aspects of our traditional Muslim burial ceremony with those of the Air Force burial ceremony. It's hard to describe the feeling of seeing 40 members of the Air Force in full uniform standing in a mosque and joining in a prayer for Ali. It was a one-of-a-kind experience.

I could go on writing about these two guys all night. Frankly, what I've written so far hasn't even begun to scratch the surface of describing their amazing qualities. It was an honor just to know them. But even though they left a strong impression on me while alive, the truth is their passing left an even stronger impression on me.

Despite the fact that I was already fighting cancer, it wasn't until those two passed that I finally realized the value of each and every single second we have on this earth. Here I was, fighting a vicious disease, undergoing powerful chemotherapy and numerous surgeries. Physically, I was weak, tired and felt broken. And yet, of the three of us, I am the only one still here.

Both of them were strong and healthy, moving forward with their lives and accomplishing amazing things. You can argue that Ali's profession was risky, but the fact is that he was an expert pilot, and the accident which caused his death was not his fault and was out of his control. And with Sumit, the freakish circumstances which led to his death are about as likely as getting hit by lightning.

And yet, the fact remains that both of them have moved on, while I remain to continue fighting my battle. I often think about Sumit and Ali, maybe more so because I have been confronted with my own mortality at a young age. I'll never be able to make sense of the randomness and unlikelihood of it all. I guess that's what they call destiny, and destiny can be very fickle.

As I write this today, my ongoing fight with cancer has only served to reinforce what I learned a year ago about the value and fragility of life. These tragic events make it very apparent that it doesn't matter how healthy you are or aren't, or what you are doing in life. I believe that if your time's up, then your time's up. There's nothing you can do about it.

I miss those two very much. Their families are the true heroes, persevering despite the hardship and even providing moral support and encouragement to me. I know it's hard considering what they've dealt with.

I try to go out each day now with a purpose. Yes, I am still fighting the battle, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the time I have, and value each and every moment. I'm sure if Sumit and Ali were here, they would tell me the exact same thing - to make the most of every day, have fun and live with a purpose. Nobody knows when their time is up, but I think almost everyone has a chance to make the most of the time they are given.

Fight on...