June: Galya Bolshova

Galya Bolshova has had to fight leukemia twice. Today, she’s a university graduate working as a manager. She never gave up her love of dancing and still dreams of learning German and English—because she wants to see the world. And on top of that, Galya is the most beautiful bride in Ivanovo!

I know that as a child you dreamed of visiting Moscow. But your first time there was due to illness.
Yes, I was 10. I was a very active child—I danced professionally and, without my parents knowing, played basketball, volleyball, and chess. I was a top student and easily combined my studies with all my hobbies. Then suddenly, I developed a fever and was hospitalized in Ivanovo. For a long time, no one told me or my parents what was going on, though it was clear something was wrong. Eventually, they gave me a green book with the word “Leukemia” in big letters on the cover. I tried reading it but understood nothing. My treatment in Ivanovo felt like a dark, endless nightmare.

Things were completely different at the Russian Children’s Clinical Hospital in Moscow. Everything was bright and cheerful, not gloomy. That’s where I finally got answers about my illness. My doctor, Anastasia Rudneva, introduced me to my main enemy—leukemia—and explained how we would fight it together.

How did you feel when they finally explained everything to you?
Once I understood my diagnosis, I started to feel a little better. Naturally, I was scared—it’s the fear of the unknown. They told me I’d be in the hospital for quite a while. But the one thing I remember thinking as a 10-year-old was, “I will get better. I must. I have to go home—my whole life is waiting for me.” And that’s what happened. I went home, and everything was fine until 2008, when I had a relapse.

To many, the word “relapse” is even scarier than the original diagnosis.
It really was scarier. I was a teenager by then. Just as my peers were starting to blossom, I had to say goodbye to my hair—again. That was very hard. I’d grown back a thick mop of hair after my first treatment, and losing it again felt like a huge loss. But that wasn’t the worst part.

The toughest thing was realizing I had to go through treatment again. At 10, I’d been strong and resilient. But during the relapse, I found it much harder to stay focused. The treatment was much more intense this time. I had severe side effects—burns, anaphylactic shock, even a mini-stroke. It lasted longer and was harder in every way.

How did you keep yourself going?
Dr. Rudneva kept me going. She told me, “Galya, you're not the first to have a relapse. Others have gotten better after a second treatment, and so will you. Just keep fighting.” That gave me hope.

I kept telling myself, “This is temporary.” But when test results got worse and I couldn’t eat from mouth burns, I felt like giving up. At those moments, my mom would lift me up. I had once given her hope—and now she gave it back to me tenfold.

Thinking about the future also helped. I’d say to myself: “When I get better, I’ll...”—get married, have kids, go to university, learn cross-stitching. In tough times, imagining a future gives you strength. Without that, it’s easy to fall into despair.

How did you find out about the Podari Zhizn Foundation?
The first time I was ill, Podari Zhizn didn’t exist. By the time of my relapse in 2008, it had just begun. I saw them bring all sorts of things into the ward—detergents, napkins, medications. The charity had already helped the boy in the bed next to mine with medicines and preparing for a bone marrow transplant. That’s how I found out about Podari Zhizn. Later, they helped me too—raising funds for Erwinase. Since I spent so long in the hospital, I got to know many volunteers and became friends with them.

Do you still keep in touch with Podari Zhizn?
When I left the hospital, I wanted to forget everything—my illness, the treatment, all of it. I thought I’d go to university and live like a normal teenager. But after participating in the 2011 World Children’s Winners Games, I realized I didn’t want to forget. It was part of me.

Now, the charity and the volunteers are like a second family. I volunteer at the Winners Games every year and try to keep in touch with everyone from the foundation. But we don’t see each other often because I rarely visit Moscow.

And you know, I don’t see my illness as some cruel twist of fate. It may sound strange, but I’m glad it happened. Without it, I wouldn’t have met such amazing people or seen how much kindness exists in the world.

Were you able to return to the “normal” life you dreamed of?
At first, it was hard. I could only leave the house wearing a mask, and people stared or whispered. Some even asked me why I looked that way. It was painful. But once I started university, things improved. I’m a very social person, so I quickly found my place. When I could finally walk around without a mask—that’s when my ordinary life really began. But I still struggle with people who are shallow or unkind.

Why is that? Many teens go through a shallow phase.
When I came home, I felt like I was 30 years old, wise beyond my years. My peers, by comparison, seemed like preschoolers.

So the illness changed you deeply?
Maybe not deeply, but yes—it made me stronger. I was always cheerful and determined, but the illness really strengthened my spirit. Of course, I still get anxious about work or minor conflicts. But then I remind myself: this isn’t worth the worry. What matters is that the people I love are alive and well. I know now how precious life is, and I value every moment of it.

What would you say to children currently going through treatment?
Fight off depression—it’s one of the biggest obstacles. You have to support yourself from within. Focus on recovery. Tell yourself, “I can do this,” even when it feels impossible.

All the interviews for the calendar that marks Podari Zhizn 10 anniversary were prepared by Zhenya Vaneeva, who is also our cancer survivor.