Lymphoma, silent as night, takes root deep within, A stealth in the lymph, where defenses begin. In vessels and nodes where the immune guards stand, Cells multiply wrongly, grow beyond command.
Lymphocytes rally in battles unseen, Fighting with fervor, though some turn unclean. A cancer of blood, an intruder that hides, It silently spreads as it strengthens its tides.
Two kinds take form in this shadowed divide, Hodgkin’s slow creep, Non-Hodgkin’s broad stride. With Reed-Sternberg cells, Hodgkin’s name is told, Yet caught in its youth, this form can be controlled.
Non-Hodgkin’s more varied, with faces that shift, A diverse array, each needing a lift Of targeted treatment, a well-crafted plan, To halt its fierce march, as best science can.
The symptoms arise with a telltale flair: Night sweats, swollen nodes, or fatigue in the air. Weight loss unbidden, a fever that climbs, These signs ring a warning through body and mind.
Diagnosis requires a close, careful look— A biopsy taken, the lymphatic book Laid open for answers, each page deeply scanned, Revealing the course and the treatments at hand.
With chemotherapy’s burn, radiation’s bright flash, And immune aids advancing with speed and with dash, Hope builds in the fight, while research lights the way, To guide us through darkness toward a healthier day.
For lymphoma’s a battle, fierce and profound, But courage, with science, forms a battleground. In shadows of cells, where cancer might lie, A story of healing persists by and by.
