Cristian says his experience. "At age 8 I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. The doctors had given me ten per cent chance of recovery. Today, thanks to advances in research for more than 60 percent of people saved. These few words serve only to make it clear that years of efforts in research and awareness of those who still are afraid of what not to want to accept because they can not touch it, have served to something.

On June 5, 1986 I was hospitalized in serious condition Orsola Hospital. During the first symptoms of the disease had in fact concealed had abdominal pain on a daily basis. Many have asked me the reason for my reticence, but perhaps more significant was the reason given by my character: I have always had great patience with evil and I spent part of my childhood with my grandparents in the country, so when I had the pain I hid so excruciating.

Even my parents thought that by early this pain as an excuse to go to their Latvian so dear to me. However, began a series of visits at the beginning but were exchanged in the thick abdominal colitis. Then that night the pains started continuously and the adventure began.

I was hospitalized for treatment periods Orsola Hospital for about a year and are now completely healed. I've always tried to enjoy what fate will allow me, I try to enjoy and try not to lose the value for small things, for a smile or a chat between friends.

Today I divide between the sea - are skippers of sailing - and the management of a local in Bologna, play tennis, soccer goalkeeper is, when it snows and the taste of the air while skiing and priceless. Twenty-four years have already passed since that June 5.

Some might think that by now my memory is blurred, which has been deleted for some who might be unpleasant memories. When I say that that experience has influenced and will influence my whole life, I am not pessimistic and full of sadness, even ... Even if I remember distinctly, name by name, the doctors and the people who were near, them I will always have an indelible memory.

In addition to medicines, very providential, which made me really fight and combat the "Bad", were the doctors, hospital staff, my family and especially my parents. That feeling you can not simply call love, is something more profound. I was able to overcome those days with my mother and father with their presence, with their affection, their confidence in me, gave me the strength to want to live and to believe in myself. Many will think that such a young person in a hospital bed can not think or feel these things and in the end, it is true. I did not understand, in fact, how important the presence of my parents always constant, the influx of relatives and friends, and doctors who stubbornly did not give me the time to give up and do not expect more in the future. Only now do I understand, because I was committed to fight against something that often did not give me time to think and reflect. Simple gestures of affection, which we often unnecessary, sometimes they can save someone's life, giving him hope.

I met an abstract world in which the infinite love between me and my parents and that of countless others who have helped me to fight and meant that I could open that door so that the medicine could come in and destroy the enemy.