"This is a story of ordinary man who is fightingcancer. This is a story of Anti-Breaking Bad. This is a story of a man whom doctors sentenced to death, but the man disagreed. This is a story about 30.000 friends. This is a story that is happening at present moment"...

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Dear friends, I would like to tell you a story. This is a story about a death sentence rejected. This is a story of thirty thousand men and women, who helped me reject this sentence. It is a story about the US Ambassador in Moscow helping me to get a visa under the Christmas tree. A story about how one can fight cancer without "breaking bad", by helping other people to live and survive. It is my story.

Address: 707 West 192 Street #7A, 10040, for Anton Buslov

This story is being written right now, and you could write your very own important lines in it, giving it a happy ending. I was born in the city of Voronezh in the USSR 29 years ago. When I was diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma, I realized that the only way to win a fight with cancer was to take the treatment into my own hands. We have excellent doctors in Russia, but they are not just fighting disease; they battle bureaucracy, insufficient resources and primitive technologies, as well. In some clinics in Russia they still have the idea of washing a disposable syringe for a second use. In Moscow I was receiving chemotherapy in a center with 30 beds, through which went 250 patients a day and it had only one nurse and one toilet for the lot. Therefore, those who chose to fight the cancer, had to deal with innumerable other obstacles. I did whatever I could. Free medical treatment, in fact, turned out to be very expensive, because I had to pay for many diagnostic tests, medications, and equipment. I had to get several part-time jobs to pay the bills, or just to bring a pack of new single-use syringes to the clinic when nurses asked for it. At the beginning of this story, I was working as an astrophysicist and researching for the international satellite project CORONAS-PHOTON, which was sent a satellite into space to study the sun. We worked in collaboration with scientists from all over the world, sharing the results with our colleagues from NASA. I was completing my PhD thesis and teaching students at the university. Unfortunately, scientists are not well-paid in Russian. At the same time, in 2005, I created a non-governmental organization to fight for the preservation of environmentally friendly electric vehicles in Russia.

I took up any job that came my way to pay the medical bills, and I also became a journalist. In 2011, my doctors told me that they no longer offer me any more treatments. They told me that I can go home and wait for death to take me. They gave me no more than 18 months to live.

The only thing I could do was to phone my girlfriend, tell her about the new terrible turn and to offer her to become my widow. And Maria agreed! We got married very quickly and promised each other that we would fight for our family and no matter what, try to have children.

I started translating scientific papers, studied all sorts of clinical tests all over the world. I found out about the possibilities of using modern technologies to treat my disease. When I came to my Russian doctor with the information in hand, she explained that this treatment was not available in Russia. I had great help from the Russia-American foundation AdVita they provided me with lots of information about the cutting-edge treatment methods in the USA and helped choose the doctors and the clinics. I also had to find a way to pay for the treatment, which was going to be very expensive.

So I wrote in my blog asking people to help me live a little longer by each chipping in 5 dollars. After reading my story, tens of thousands of ordinary people responded, and we managed to collect $150 thousand dollars in just one week, enough to begin treatment in New York, where there are medicines and specialists for my case.

My condition was very bad at that time, and I could barely move. I did not speak English very well; I did not have any friends or know anyone in the United States. But when I saw the money donated to me, and when I saw how quickly people responded with their support, I realized that I must continue fighting.

I saw that the gifts came to me from all over the world. I saw payments from the U.S., Japan, France, Germany, and many other countries. Also came some very touching letters from people who were following my story, including a letter from a very sweet couple in California who were following my story literally daily.

These encouragements inspired my to not give up, and to try to fight all the way to the end. I was getting worse, and time became my new enemy. I did not have an entry visa to the United States, and I needed it very urgently. But it was Christmas Eve, and all of the offices were closed. My new friends came through again, and helped me a by tweeting a plea for help to the U.S. Ambassador Michael McFaul. And a Christmas miracle happened - the ambassador replied that he knew about the history, and I was promptly given a visa in a completely empty U.S. embassy in Moscow.

During the first few months of my treatment in New York I learned all I could about the American healthcare system, the way a cancer is treated in the U.S., and how works an urban living environment that is accessible to people with disabilities and shared my findings and experience with many others who are in similar situations as foreigners in need of American medical treatment. Moreover, I began collaborating with Vukan R.Vuchik, Professor of Transportation Engineering at the University of Pennsylvania, to bring him to Moscow to work with non-governmental public organization City Projects in order to use U.S. experience to improve urban transportation systems.

Now I need help one last time. Doctors believe that in order to have a final battle with my cancer, I need to have a bone marrow transplant. I have a perfect match in my sister, who has already joined me in New York for initial screening. It is a hugely expensive operation and unpaid by insurance. My doctor, who has no power over such things, concedes that such a transplant is generally only available to patients with substantial personal means. My donated funds from last year are long exhausted. But I still believe that I am a person with substantial means.

I have hope and I have determination. Most of all I have tens of thousands of friends and a belief that there are even more good people who will befriend me in my time of need.

I am asking for your help. I will live if you do not pass by. If you tell your friends that we can beat cancer together. This is my story. I would be honored if you would help write the next chapter. I invite you to co-author this final episode of my battle, this unusual "anti-breaking bad" story and an extraordinary life of an ordinary person.

Anton (mymaster) Buslov.

Mail: astroaist@gmail.com (2013)