Hi, my name is Noor, and I’m asking you—please—don’t scroll past this.

Pause. Breathe. And meet Ian.

Ian is 26 years old, but his body has known pain for most of his life.

For 17 years, cancer has lived with him. Not as a memory. Not as a lesson.

As a constant companion.

At just nine years old, while other children were learning how to play, Ian was learning how to survive. He was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a merciless bone cancer that began attacking his body and never truly let go.

Since 2008, Ian’s world has been hospitals instead of playgrounds.

IV lines instead of sleep.

Fear instead of safety.

Pain that doesn’t ask permission and never fully leaves.

The cancer spread through his bones, crept toward his rib cage and lungs, and demanded everything from him—his childhood, his strength, his innocence.

Everything… except his will to live.

For 11 long years, Ian fought. Treatment after treatment. Hospital after hospital in Jordan. In 2016, he endured a bone marrow transplant—a procedure so brutal it nearly broke him, but also gave him another chance at life. By 2019, doctors said the words he had waited years to hear: recovery.

But cancer doesn’t care about hope.

In 2021, the same year Ian finally achieved something extraordinary—earning his medical degree—the cancer came back.

Imagine fighting for your life as a child… surviving… and then being forced to fight again just as you’re starting to dream.

Still, Ian didn’t give up.

He worked full-time.

He studied relentlessly.

He pushed his body past exhaustion, past pain, past what anyone should be asked to endure. Even on days when standing hurt. Even on days when breathing felt heavy. He refused to let cancer decide who he would become.

Today, Ian is studying artificial intelligence, trying—once again—to rebuild a future that keeps being taken from him.

But this is where the truth becomes unbearable.

His illness has now forced him to stop working.

The pain is constant.

The exhaustion is overwhelming.

And the medical bills never stop—treatments, medications, tests, basic living needs.

Every dollar he has goes toward staying alive.

Ian has reached a place no human being should ever reach:

fighting for his life while terrified of the cost of surviving.

This fundraiser is not about luxury.

It is not about comfort.

It is about relief.

It is about mercy.

It is about giving Ian the chance to focus on healing instead of wondering how much longer he can afford to live.

Every donation—no matter how small—takes a piece of weight off his chest.

Every share gives his story legs when his body cannot carry him further.

And if you cannot donate, please share.

Your share could be the reason someone else helps him breathe easier tonight.

You are also welcome to support Ian directly.

All donations and support go straight to him.

You can reach him on Instagram: Ian Luay

Thank you for reading this.

Thank you for feeling this.

Thank you for choosing compassion.

After 17 years of fighting, Ian is still here.

Please—help him stay.

Sometimes, hope looks like a stranger who chose to care.