A Man Who Was Called “The Tree Man” Was Able to Hold His Daughter Again After Many Surgeries

“The Tree Man” is a man whose life has been defined by a rare malformation in his hands. Once dubbed for his distinctive condition, he has undergone numerous surgeries, overcoming tremendous challenges on his journey. Now, with unwavering determination and the skilled hands of medical professionals, he has reclaimed a simple yet profound joy—holding his daughter once again.

Abul Bajandar has a rare condition called ’Tree Man’ Syndrome.

Abul Bajandar, a man hailing from Bangladesh, is afflicted with an extraordinary and rare condition known as ’Tree Man’ Syndrome. This hereditary condition, though non-contagious, is unfortunately incurable, and surgical interventions offer only temporary relief. Abul is not alone in his struggle, as there are others worldwide grappling with the challenges posed by this syndrome.

This syndrome manifests through the development of wart-like skin growths that bear a striking resemblance to tree bark. These growths, while initially small, have the potential to grow significantly in size, resulting in considerable disability for those affected.

He has it from a young age.

The onset of his condition began during adolescence, with small warts appearing on his body at the age of 13-14. Regrettably, as he advanced in age, the affliction rapidly escalated, affecting various parts of his body.

After 16 surgeries he was able to hold his daughter again.

After undergoing a series of 16 surgeries between 2016 and 2017 at Dhaka Medical College Hospital in Dhaka, Bangladesh, Abul Bajandar achieved a poignant milestone—he could once again hold his daughter. The surgical procedures aimed to remove the bark-like lesions from his hands and feet, offering a glimmer of hope in his battle against Tree Man Syndrome.

Bajandar shared the profound joy he experiences spending time with his daughters, emphasizing, “If I recover from this, I want to work again, to build a small business to help my daughters in her studies and to give them a good life.” These words reflect not only his determination to overcome the challenges posed by his rare condition but also his unwavering commitment to providing a better future for his family.

Throughout Abul Bajandar’s challenging journey with Tree Man Syndrome, he draws strength from the unwavering support of his wife and mother. In the face of the condition’s recurrence, their steadfast presence provides him with comfort and encouragement. Bajandar reflects on the transformative power of fatherhood, sharing, “When my daughter was born, she brought me the hope of life again. I didn’t want to leave her as an orphan. I felt like I must live for her.”

Abul Bajandar’s condition returned but he remains hopeful.

Despite facing the disheartening recurrence of his condition, Abul Bajandar maintains a resilient sense of hope. Doctors, initially uncertain about the possibility of the condition’s return, witnessed its reappearance. Undeterred, Bajandar expresses his unwavering optimism, declaring, “My only dream is to recover from this situation and live a healthy life.”

His poignant words reflect not only the personal challenges he endures but also a universal desire for health and well-being. Bajandar’s enduring hope shines through as he states, “All I can say is that I truly believe and hope that a cure exists for this disease.” In the face of adversity, his spirit remains unbroken, embodying the strength of individuals confronting rare and challenging medical conditions.

Another person born with a rare condition has defied societal norms and emerged as a symbol of extraordinary resilience. Meet the girl affectionately referred to as “Voldemort” due to being born without a nose.

Preview photo credit Tansh / Alamy Stock PhotoZUMA Press, Inc. / Alamy Stock Photo

MY LITTLE DAUGHTER ANSWERED MY HUSBAND’S PHONE AND FORGOT TO HANG UP — THEN I OVERHEARD A WOMAN’S VOICE SAYING “DADDY AND I HAVE LOTS OF SECRETS”

The phone, still open on the counter, lay lifeless in my hand. Lisa, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, was humming a tune and playing with her dolls. But I was frozen, my blood running cold. The woman’s voice, smooth and amused, echoed in my ears, a chilling reminder of a betrayal I couldn’t comprehend. “Daddy and I have lots of secrets.”

My heart pounded against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence in the house. What did it mean? Was Mark cheating on me? Was this some sort of game? Or was it something more sinister?

I glanced at the clock. 8:30 PM. He had said he’d be home by 7:00.

A wave of anger washed over me, quickly followed by a chilling fear. I had to know. I had to find out the truth.

Grabbing my keys, I slipped out of the house, my movements silent and swift. I followed his usual route, my eyes scanning the dimly lit streets, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and determination.

I found him at “The Velvet Lounge,” a dimly lit jazz club I had never heard him mention before. He was sitting at a small table in the corner, his arm draped possessively around the woman’s shoulders. They were laughing, their faces close together, their bodies radiating an intimacy that made my blood run cold.

The woman, even more beautiful in person than her voice had suggested, turned her head as I entered the club. Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with a mixture of amusement and contempt. Mark, his face flushed, looked up at me, his smile faltering.

“Sarah,” he stammered, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to find out what ‘secrets’ you and your… friend have been keeping from me,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor running through it.

The woman, finally speaking, let out a low, melodious laugh. “Secrets? Darling, I think you’ve misunderstood. We’re just… friends. Old friends.”

“Old friends who meet in dimly lit jazz clubs and whisper secrets into each other’s ears?” I retorted, my voice rising.

Mark tried to intervene, but I cut him off. “Don’t bother, Mark. I heard it all. I heard her say, ‘Daddy and I have lots of secrets.'”

His face paled. “It was just a… a joke.”

“A joke that made my daughter feel uncomfortable?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “A joke that made me question everything I thought I knew about you?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

I turned and walked out, the sound of their hushed conversation fading behind me. The air outside was thick with the scent of rain and betrayal. My world, once filled with love and security, had shattered into a million pieces. As I drove home, the image of Mark and the other woman, their faces close together, their laughter echoing in the night, haunted me.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Lisa’s laughter. She was playing with her toys, oblivious to the storm that had erupted in our lives the night before. Looking at her innocent face, I knew I had to be strong. I had to protect her, to shield her from the pain and betrayal I was experiencing.

I would find a way to move on, to rebuild my life, to find happiness again. But the trust I had placed in my husband, the foundation of our marriage, had been irrevocably broken.

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