Forgiveness of Love

We present Ana Talfil’s HPV test testimony. She talks about the Love that can hide behind the simple gestures of a loved one. My Love, I know that sometimes I am unbearable. You do the impossible to ensure that my days are not just made up of running—running to do therapy, ovarian cancer tests, or finding a doctor who can ease my pain.

Every night, when you return from work tired, you drive 60km to come to me. Believe me when I tell you that you are the only man who, despite his tiredness, still manages to whisper sweet words in my ear: “I love you, peanut. You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Forgive me for the time we didn’t go on that holiday—the holiday you were looking forward to—because I got sick. Even when my hair fell out for the first time, you told me, “Love only; you are beautiful even without hair.”


I thank you for all the times you slept on the sofa, sleeping there so as not to wake me up since I was resting a little due to the drugs and the cortisone. Thank you for all the times you picked me up and took me to the bathroom to help wash myself, telling me, “Don’t. You can’t, but the bidet is too small.” Because yes, you did this for me, too.

Forgive me,, my Love, for all the times you told me everything was fine not to make me worry. You asked for forgiveness for all the times I wasn’t right, but to make me feel good. Because this is Love, for better or for worse, even if perhaps it is not us who have to apologize, the silent Killer CA125 Cancer must ask our Love for forgiveness.

Tony’s testimony

This is my CA125 Test story. I felt widespread abdominal pain, and the first test diagnosis was irritable bowel syndrome. I started doing food intolerance tests and alternating food intake. The pain remained. A virtual colonoscopy diagnoses third-stage ovarian cancer with ascites.

Long months followed, during which I had an initial laparoscopic operation to collect only the liquid and biological material. Three cycles of chemotherapy, surgery, and three more cycles of chemotherapy concluded in December 2017. I have now joined an experimental protocol to test a drug to stimulate the immune system. Control CT scan every three months. A month ago a new nodule was detected on the peritoneum. I have to do the CT scan again in a few days.

Feelings of anger and frustration alternate. I’m physically well now, and this leads me to reject the HPV-related disease. Then I calm down a little, breathe deeply, close my eyes and remember the days when I had ovarian-type cancer but didn’t know it, and I tell myself that I have to live like then. And I feel a serene awareness that gives me the strength not to make the climate around me heavy.

I choose to smile

I spent little time with my father: he left early in the morning and returned at sunset. Initially, I didn’t understand the connection between his stories and me, but those small moments spent listening to him made me understand his life’s meaning.

I remember a story about a gentleman who saw a woman in tears. He asked her, “Why are you crying?”. She replied: “I have two sons; one is a fisherman, and the other sells umbrellas.” “So?” asked the old man. The woman explained: “But today it’s raining and the fisherman can’t work” “I understand”, he said and greeted her. The next day, the gentleman decided to walk the same route as the previous day and met the woman again. He was amazed because she cried again. He then asked her: “Why are you still crying if it’s sunny today?” The woman replied: “Because my other son, who sells umbrellas, isn’t working today.”

But like this, you cry every day. The old man thought for a moment and then said, “The day it rains, you have to smile because your son sells umbrellas, and the next day, the other son, who is a fisherman, will work because, after the rain, there is it’s sunny.”

The rebirth

When the date on which I will have the CT scan test approaches, my days of HPV anxiety begin, the night becomes long, the dreams dark, and the thought of the tumour is an obsession. So, instead of living, I waste time dedicating it to the worries that ovarian-type CA125 cancer brings me. But I have decided that at this moment, I cannot wait for tomorrow because no one knows and can know what will happen; I can only choose how to live today, whether crying or smiling, and I choose to smile!

The HPV long-term illness changed my life. I had a job and a normal existence, but what saved me was a piercing pain in my stomach. On 26 October 2017 I was a street vendor in the local markets of my city, my job, my passion, that is, being in contact with people. I thought about not going to the hospital and that the pain would soon go away, but nothing. So I went to the nearest centre where the ultrasound test diagnosed ovarian-type disease. The world fell, or rather, the world exploded on me, near me and my 19-year-old daughter, a mother’s Love who couldn’t hold back her tears next to the doctor when he told her:

“Don’t worry, your mother can handle it”.

The HPV Odyssey of tests began on 6 December 2017. I underwent surgery in Milan, but I can tell you that I was reborn. Yes, 06-12-2017 is the date of the rebirth—that’s right. I fought, and the people around me always gave me trust and strength. And I thank God I am here with my family and parents. I want to fight with my fears and hope of moving forward with God’s will. A hug to everyone. Prevention is the best cure!