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

I Overheard My Neighbor’s Daughter and My Husband Discussing Their Affair – Instead of Making a Scene, I Invited Her to Our House the Next Day

When Lexie overhears her husband and the neighbor’s daughter discussing their affair, she doesn’t cry or confront them. Instead, she plans. With a clever invitation and a jaw-dropping twist, she flips the script on their betrayal, serving up karma with a side of sass. Revenge has never been this satisfying.

My husband, Mark, and I had been married for ten years. Two kids, a mortgage, and what I thought was a solid life bound us together. Sure, Mark wasn’t much help around the house.

He didn’t cook, clean, or manage the endless chaos of raising kids.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

That was all me.

Exhausting?

Absolutely.

But I told myself it was fine because “we’re a team, Lexie.”

Except, apparently, Mark had decided to join a different team altogether.

It started with a bag of groceries.

Bags of groceries | Source: Midjourney

Bags of groceries | Source: Midjourney

I had just pulled into the driveway after a grueling trip to the store. My car was packed with heavy bags and I was mentally preparing for the solo effort of hauling everything inside.

Mark, as usual, wouldn’t lift a finger.

That’s when I heard voices coming from the porch.

A woman holding a bag of groceries | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bag of groceries | Source: Midjourney

It was Mark, chatting with Emma, our neighbor’s 25-year-old daughter who’d recently moved back to town. Her parents were so proud when she got into her internship after she studied interior design.

Now, she and Mark stood there laughing like old friends.

I almost called out to say hello, but something made me stop.

I ducked behind my car, hidden by the shadows and groceries, and listened.

A couple on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A couple on a porch | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t believe she hasn’t figured it out yet,” Emma said, her laughter ringing through the cool afternoon air.

Mark chuckled in response.

“She’s so busy with the kids and the house, Em. Lexie barely notices anything else. She’s gotten so gray, too. But she just brushes her hair the other way to cover it up. Honestly, she’s let herself go so much. She doesn’t even look like a woman to me anymore. She’s nothing compared to you, my princess.”

Emma giggled.

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

“Well, lucky for you, mister, I’m here now. You can parade me all your want. And trust me, there’s no gray hair in sight.”

Then they kissed.

Kissed?!

I clutched a bag so tightly that I could feel the plastic starting to tear. My vision blurred with tears, the humiliation and rage coursing through me. They continued their conversation, the shameless flirting, all oblivious to my presence.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

But other than those few tears, I didn’t cry properly. I didn’t scream or shout. I didn’t confront them.

Instead, I quietly carried the groceries inside, using the back door, and started my planning.

The next morning, I woke up with a calmness that surprised even me. I made Mark breakfast, his eggs fluffy and the bacon extra crispy. I made his coffee with a dash of cinnamon, just the way he liked it. I kissed him goodbye and waved cheerfully as he left for work.

A plate of food | Source: Midjourney

A plate of food | Source: Midjourney

Once he was gone, I walked next door and knocked on Emma’s door.

She opened it, visibly surprised.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs…Um, hi, Lexie,” she stammered, her smile overly bright.

“Hi, Emma,” I said warmly. “I was wondering if you could come over tomorrow evening. I could really use your advice on something.”

A woman standing at a front door | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing at a front door | Source: Midjourney

She blinked, her smile faltering.

“Advice? On what?”

“Well,” I hesitated, letting my voice sound unsure. “I’ve been thinking about redecorating the living room. Your parents mentioned you studied design, and I thought you could help pick out colors or furniture ideas. It’ll just take a little while.”

A bohemian themed living room | Source: Midjourney

A bohemian themed living room | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, doubt flickered in her eyes. Then she tilted her head, a sly smile forming.

“Oh, I’d love to help! What time?”

“I think seven will be fine? Dinner time!” I said, my own smile sweet and sincere. “Thanks so much, Emma. You’re a lifesaver.”

Emma showed up the next evening, dressed to impress. She greeted me with her usual cheerful demeanor, practically radiating confidence.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

I welcomed her warmly and led her inside.

“Oh, before we get to the living room,” I said casually. “I wanted to show you a few things.”

I guided her though the house, pointing out key areas of domestic responsibility.

“Here’s the dishwasher. You’ll need to load it every night because Mark doesn’t bother, of course. The kids’ laundry goes here, but please, be sure to separate the loads, since they’re sensitive to different detergents.”

A laundry room | Source: Midjourney

A laundry room | Source: Midjourney

She just stared at me.

“Oh, and here’s the schedule for their after-school activities. You’ll need to pick them up on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Wednesdays are free for errands. I’ve written down the plumber, electrician, and pediatrician’s numbers. Just in case.”

Emma’s smile faltered, her face growing pale.

“And this,” I said, leading her into the kitchen, where the smell of a roast chicken filled the room.

A cozy kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A cozy kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“This is where you’ll prep all the meals. And let me tell you, other than the breakfasts, and different school and work lunches, there are snacks and desserts and it’s all just a lot. Mark likes his steak medium-rare, by the way. The kids will only eat steak if it’s cooked all the way through. The deader the better.”

She gasped.

“Don’t expect Mark to say thank you, manners are not his thing. The kids are picky eaters, I’m sorry to say, but you’ll figure it out.”

Steak on a plate | Source: Midjourney

Steak on a plate | Source: Midjourney

She stared at me, wide-eyed.

“Uh, Lexie. I’m not sure… I don’t think… I didn’t offer to babysit them.”

Just then, Mark walked in. His face went pale the moment he saw us.

“Lex, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice tight and high-pitched.

A woman looking confused | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking confused | Source: Midjourney

“Oh,” I said brightly. “I probably should have included you in this, too. But I’m just showing Emma how to run the house. Since you think I’ve let myself go, I figured that it’s time for me to prioritize myself. And also, maybe it’s time for me to find someone who sees me as his princess. Emma, you’ll be taking over everything I do. Good luck!”

Before either of them could respond, there was a knock on the door.

I opened it to reveal Emma’s parents. The same couple who often babysat my kids if I was in a bind.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“Oh! It smells delicious! I told Annie that you were going to make your roast chicken, Lexie,” Emma’s father said, joyfully.

“Thanks for coming, Anne and Howard. And thank you for raising such a helpful daughter,” I said. “She and Mark have grown so close that I thought it was time to make her part of the family.”

“Wait, what?” Anne asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m leaving and Emma’s going to take care of everything now! You must be so proud of your little girl.”

Emma’s mom looked confused. Her dad, on the other hand, livid.

“Emma,” her mom said. “Tell me that this isn’t true. Tell me that this isn’t what I think it is.”

“It’s not what it looks like!” Emma stammered.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

Mark, ever the coward, tried to shift the blame.

“Lexie, this isn’t fair! Emma came to me! She came onto me!”

“Oh, did she?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying that you’re not responsible for sneaking around with a 25-year-old while insulting your wife?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Howard cut him off.

“Mark, this is on you. Emma, this is equally on you. Let’s leave. Now.”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

Emma shot me a venomous glare before storming out. Her parents followed, muttering a thousand apologies as they went.

Mark turned to me, desperation etched across his face.

“Lexie, please, babe,” he said. “Let’s talk about this. We’ve been together for so long… you owe me a conversation, at least.”

“Oh, sweetie,” I said. “We’ll talk, don’t you worry. My lawyer will call you tomorrow. But for now, I think you should pack your bags and leave.”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“Where will I go?” he asked pathetically. “My family lives in a different state.”

“I don’t really care, Mark,” I said, taking the chicken out of the oven. “Go to a motel. Go to a friend. Join the circus.”

“And the kids? Where are the kids?”

“They’re with my sister. And they’ll stay there until you sort your nonsense out. You can tell them the truth after the lawyers work out a settlement. I’m not going down without a fight, Mark.”

A roast chicken on a tray | Source: Midjourney

A roast chicken on a tray | Source: Midjourney

A week later, I heard through the grapevine that Emma had dumped Mark.

“It was fun while it lasted, but I didn’t sign up to play mom. To him or his kids.”

Two weeks later, Mark came back.

“What do you want?” I asked, seeing the bunch of flowers in his hand.

A man holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Midjourney

“I’ve been so miserable without you,” he said, practically begging. “Please, let me come back. Please, Lexie. We can fix this. I miss my kids. I miss our family.”

“I don’t care, Mark!” I blurted out. “I truly don’t care. Now, if you don’t have anything productive to do here, then leave. The kids are at a playdate, and I’m only fetching them in a few hours.”

Then, I closed the door, leaving him speechless.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

It’s been months since that night, and I’ve never been happier. I’ve rediscovered pieces of myself I thought were long gone. I’ve started taking up salsa dancing, and with that, my confidence, joy and freedom came flooding in.

Amid the chaos, my kids and I have found a new rhythm, one filled with laughter and love.

As for Mark? He’s still single. And from what I hear, Emma’s parents aren’t thrilled with her either. But Anne does bake cakes and pies and sends them over often. And Howard likes to rake up the leaves in our front yard.

Karma’s a funny thing, isn’t it?

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

A happy woman | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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