When the U.S. Open kicks off in New York City this week, Corina Morariu will be conspicuous by her absence. Ranked the No. 1 doubles player in women's tennis for part of last year, the 23-year-old Detroit native was in top form as recently as January's Australian Open, where she captured the mixed doubles title, made the women's doubles finals alongside pal Lindsay Davenport and scored an upset over Anna Kournikova to reach the singles quarterfinals. But in the weeks that followed, Morariu was dogged by nosebleeds and what felt like a hard-to-shake flu. When she returned home to Boca Raton, Fla., in May, her father, Albin, 60, a neurologist, persuaded her to see a doctor. The diagnosis was swift and terrifying: acute promyelocytic leukemia, a type of blood cancer that causes severe internal bleeding.

On May 17 Morariu entered Miami's Jackson Memorial Hospital for a month of intensive chemotherapy and treatment with a drug called ATRA, a combination that has shown a long-term survival rate of up to 90 percent in studies. Her family—her husband of nearly two years and coach, Andrew Turcinovich, 35; her Romanian-born father and mother (Rodica, 62, a retired physician) and her brother Mircea, 33, also a neurologist—rallied to her side. So did such tennis buddies as Davenport and Monica Seles. "The hardest part was seeing her in the bed and not being able to touch her because of the risk of infection," says Davenport, who visited her several times. "You just want to go over and hug her."

After some "rocky moments," says her doctor Mark Goodman, Morariu's prognosis is good: On July 2 tests showed her cancer was in remission. Once her outpatient chemotherapy is complete, "there shouldn't be any obstacles to her going back and being a full-time professional athlete," says Goodman. But Morariu isn't sure that's still her goal. She spoke with correspondent Lori Rozsa about how her illness has changed her life.

I was feeling blah and having problems concentrating on the court in March and April. We were blaming it all on the flu back then. But then the nosebleeds started. They'd come when I was sleeping and wake me up. I was also getting all these bruises and my gums were bleeding. I'd be brushing my teeth and my toothbrush would turn pink. But I didn't think anything was seriously wrong. I come from a family of doctors. They deal with serious illnesses every day, so I'm not going to make a big deal about a few nosebleeds.

Then in May I hurt my foot and had to default my match at the German Open. It was about two weeks to go to the French Open, so Andrew and I thought we might as well come home and then go back to Paris, hopefully. Andrew decided to tell my dad about my health problems. My dad said, "I think you need to see a hematologist."

I thought I would be able to pop some pills and be fine. But the hematologist gave me a couple of possibilities. One of them was leukemia. She told me I needed a bone marrow test. That was very frightening. I called Andrew in tears. Then I calmed myself down and went to get the blood work done.

That afternoon my nose bled for two hours, nonstop. Two days later I got up to go to the bathroom and knew that was the last time I was getting up for a while. I was totally out of breath. The room was spinning. It took all my energy to collapse on the bed. My family took me to the hospital. That afternoon we officially found out I had acute promyelocytic leukemia. By that time I was so sick it was just a relief to know I'd get treatment.

The first few days were really, really tough. The bleeding just didn't stop. I couldn't take a deep breath without coughing. I had an oxygen mask on and was getting blood transfusions. It was extremely unpleasant. After that, I had some loss of appetite from the chemotherapy and I got a lot of medication to control the nausea. But other than losing my hair, the side effects weren't so bad.

Having three doctors in the family came in handy, big-time. It helps so much to be around people with information—it takes away the fear factor a little bit. My brother gave me articles about my condition that got very specific. I said, "Just give me the part that shows I'm gonna be okay, and I'll just read that part."

Someone from my family was with me all the time. I was happy I got to spend a lot of time with my brother. We kept the atmosphere light with jokes. We'd watch soaps, Oprah, the NBA playoffs. Once, after my father had spent the night in my room, I went into the bathroom to take a shower and slipped and fell. My father came to the door, apologizing. He told me, "I love you. And I'm not letting you out of my sight again—even if it means walking you into the shower."

The other lifesavers were my tennis friends. I felt so loved and supported. Lindsay, Monica, Mary Jo Fernandez and Kimberly Po-Messerli all came to visit me in the hospital. Billie Jean King called me four times. Lisa Raymond, who was a bridesmaid at my wedding, and her doubles partner, Rennae Stubbs, sent me a gift for every day I was in the hospital—slippers, scarves, the whole last season of Sex and the City. Jennifer Capriati and I haven't been that close, but when she won the French Open in June, she dedicated her victory to me. I was watching on TV and was speechless for half an hour. That just shows what a big heart she has.

In fact that was one of the only times I cried in the hospital. The other was when my brother talked my doctor into letting me walk outside briefly. I hadn't seen the sun in almost three weeks. Just hearing the birds singing, the sun beating down on my face, my brother and Andrew there, it was so special. Who would have thought these things could make you so happy? On June 13, the first night I was out of the hospital, Andrew and I went grocery shopping. We were just so happy, arm in arm in the grocery store. You've never seen two happier people just going to Publix.

I still have one or two more rounds of chemo to go. During the last round I had to stay in the hospital for two weeks because I developed a few complications. But that's the way it goes. It's a tough disease and the treatment has to be aggressive. It was difficult not being at Wimbledon in June, since I've played it the past five years in the pros and in the juniors before that. But everybody was so supportive. The Women's Tennis Association sent me a poster, and all the players signed it and wrote little notes. Lindsay bought a "C" necklace from Tiffany and wore it during the tournament. She told me she would give it to me when I'm through this.

As for my future, it's hard to think that far ahead. With leukemia, a relapse is certainly possible. The next year is pretty vital. I don't want to be too far from home. As far as playing tennis, I don't know. Before this happened, I was already thinking about a lifestyle change, maybe going to college or starting a family. Professional tennis was never the be-all and end-all for me. I'm a homebody—I like to be near my family, to cook for my husband and myself.

This disease gave me a new perspective on life. When you're a young, healthy athlete, you get to thinking you're semi-invincible. This is kind of a wake-up call. Things that seemed so important four months ago really seem insignificant now. I realize the important things are your health and your family and friends. Just having the people you love and who love you, that can't be beat.