Resources and support for families dealing with cancer and serious illness

crimsonmason44 said:Hey everyone, I could really use some advice on how to jumpstart an appetite after chemo...🤷 It’s been about a week since his last session, and my dad is barely eating anything at all.😢 I know this topic has probably been covered extensively on here already, but honestly, I just don't have the bandwidth to go digging through old threads right now. He’s finished two cycles, and he’s currently heading into those first round of tests following the initial diagnosis, so I'll let you all know how things progress.
Thanks to everyone, and hang in there,🙂

Pikovit, I’m with you on that one. Definitely go with the syrup. You could whip up a fruit salad or some kind of puree and stir a couple spoonfuls of Pikovit into it. It has this really pleasant orange scent that makes it quite nice. You could even mix it into some cottage cheese and package it up like a little homemade tiramisu. 😁
Just be thoughtful about how you present it to him. 😉

Vitamin B, iron—there’s a specific supplement you can pick up at most pharmacies, I can't recall the exact name, but it's generally easy on the stomach—all of that helps stimulate the appetite.

Since you mentioned he's hardly eating anything, you really want to make sure that whatever small amount he does manage to consume is high-value and nutrient-dense. Everything can get better.
When Mom says she "isn't hungry" or "just wants some yogurt," then you just give her the yogurt, but maybe enrich it with a spoonful of grape sugar. 😁

I could potentially take a week off to care for my husband. I work for a major government agency, and honestly, I realized it’s better just to keep working. Back then, I was only five minutes away from home, so I could head back whenever I needed to. Taking that week off wouldn't change much in our situation, and if I took sick leave, they'd dock my pay—which was definitely not an option for us. I think you should look closely at the labor laws and the specific employment policies for your company to see if there are any loopholes. It might be worth asking a lawyer friend to sniff out some options, too. I call these moments "siege mode"—where you try to find a way to spend time with your spouse without destroying your paycheck, hopefully finding a way to stay by his side longer or at least on a regular basis.
For those who follow my updates (hi, Linda Campbell!), my husband just finished his second round of checkups, and so far, everything looks good.
By the way, I've been reading all your posts every single day since this thread started on January 17th. Our struggles actually kicked off a bit earlier, around December 12th.
Hang in there, everyone!

mistyranger4 said:Hi everyone. Even though my husband isn't battling cancer, I find myself constantly stumbling upon advice meant for those dealing with malignancy. My husband is fighting ALS—a devastating neuromuscular disease—and unfortunately, things are taking a turn for the worse. To make matters more complicated, it’s just the two of us. As my workload increases, leaving him becomes an impossible task because he is completely immobile. So, I am turning to you for guidance. Does anyone know how much leave one is actually entitled to when caring for a family member? I was browsing the Medicare website and found this:
You are entitled to paid leave to care for an insured person—specifically a spouse living in your household—for a maximum of 15 working days per established illness.
After calling Medicare to ask about extended leave, I didn't get a single satisfying answer. They flatly refuse to tell me if, after these 15 days expire, I have any right to claim leave again next month or in the future. They just keep repeating that I can use those 15 days while the illness lasts, without ever clarifying the specifics. Has anyone dealt with this? This is my first time using these days, and I need to know the intervals allowed before I can apply again. I’ll try to stretch things out by using some vacation time and some unpaid leave... but what comes after that? Please, if anyone has been in a similar situation, help me understand my rights!

Based on the laws as I last understood them—which was about a year ago, so I can't guarantee nothing has changed—the limit was 12 days. However, in extreme circumstances, if a primary care physician decides the situation is dire enough, they could refer you to a commission, which might grant you up to 30 days. After that month is up, you would be eligible to use the benefit again. In other words, if the commission approves 30 days, you'd likely need to work at least a month before you could tap into it again. Alternatively, your doctor could potentially sign you off on your own medical leave—say, if you develop spinal issues—allowing you to be out for a month.
Does anyone happen to know a woman or a nurse available for private hourly work? Just an hour or two here and there? The situation here has become unbearable. I haven't slept in 72 hours trying to give my mother a break. We are doing everything humanly possible for him; we never leave him alone for a second, yet he just screams that we are harassing and tormenting him. Today was horrific. He’s spitting out his pills, refusing food, and screaming that we are feeding him poison and trying to kill him. Then he tries to get up to go outside, but we have to keep him confined to the bed, and then he calls my mother a whore (please excuse my language). Just imagine—she has spent 35 years by his side, and all she gets in return are these atrocities. What kind of disease is this? No matter how many times you explain that it's the illness talking and not him, it still cuts deep. It’s hard not to let it hit you. I fear that moving him into a private care facility is becoming inevitable. Does anyone have experience with this, or perhaps know of a decent facility on the West Side of New York City?

My mother has a nurse visiting three times a week, and we pay out of pocket for daily home care on an hourly basis. We managed to coordinate the schedule—though I have no idea how we pulled it off—so that the care covers half the day, meaning she’s rarely left alone for more than three hours at a time.
Perhaps it isn't such a bad idea to start there; the information tends to find its way to you eventually.

How did you manage to secure a caregiver that you pay for yourselves, and what exactly does her role entail? In our case, we received nursing services through Medicare for daily care, but we actually need someone who can sit with him for just a few hours here and there.

Elizabeth Collins60 said:My mom has a nurse come by three times a week, and we pay for daily home care out of our own pockets (it’s an hourly thing). We managed to arrange things—I honestly don't even know how we pulled it off—so that the care effectively cuts her day in half, which means she isn't really left alone for more than about three hours at a time.
It might not be a bad idea to start there, and you'll find the information starts trickling in naturally.

How did you find that lady you're paying yourself, and what does she actually do? We have a nurse through Medicare who comes every single day for care, but what we really need is someone who could just sit with him for a few hours here and there.

It’s all connected. 🙄
We actually had this woman recommended to us. There are plenty of different health centers and home care agencies out there, so your best bet is to ask the doctor she works with; they're usually the ones who can give you a solid referral. Essentially, the doctor knows exactly what can be negotiated with these agencies and what Medicare will cover versus what falls on you. I know there are places over near Preradović and Šenoa, among others. I can't for the life of me remember which specific agency my doctor highly recommends—she always talks about how they're flexible and work around what fits the patient and the family, but I'm drawing a total blank right now. We ended up going a different route because my brother had some connections that made things easier. If you’re looking specifically for a medical professional, it gets pretty expensive. I looked into hiring a nurse privately, and they told me it was $33. We just couldn't make that work.

The lady we have now costs us much less, obviously. She cooks for Mom—well, she finishes up whatever has already been prepared—does a bit of tidying, runs to the grocery store if needed (though she rarely has to), and stuff like that. She handles the laundry and the dishes, things I would absolutely kill myself to have to do across two different apartments. She keeps an eye on Mom and stays busy. Of course, it’s not like she’s providing high-level clinical care.

My doctor mentioned something about geriatric centers—the name is a bit clunky (my mother would probably have a nervous breakdown just hearing it)😁, but apparently, you can coordinate things through them too. There are also nursing homes that offer these kinds of "outreach" services.

Right now, this setup is working well enough because Mom has some level of supervision during the day and follows a steady routine. I wouldn't go so far as to say the lady is great company, but my main priorities—making sure she’s supervised and actually eating—are being met, plus we get a little extra help around the house.

If you just need someone to be present with him and maybe lend a hand with a few chores, this is exactly that kind of solution.

It’s also worth having a chat with the nurse who visits. They all tend to know one another and can often pass along advice or a good recommendation. I’ve been quite open with our nurse who comes by three times a week, asking her straight-up questions about things.

Since my mom is completely immobile, she gets home care five times a week, plus a physical therapist visits three times a week. I’ve had it rough being unemployed, but I suppose I’m lucky compared to some of you because I don't deal with the same specific struggles—though that absolute nightmare period when my mom was constantly falling around the house and couldn't control herself was brutal. I managed to get through it with help from volunteers at the Hospice. They are incredibly well-coordinated, and they can pretty much help you arrange just about anything.
On their website you can find all the details and contact info, including direct phone numbers. I can't recommend them highly enough.

Regarding my grandfather, Angela Wright, you hit the nail on the head. Back in November of last year, he was diagnosed with bronchial cancer, and the doctors essentially gave him a two-to-three-month window. Fast forward six months, and they’re actually baffled as to why there hasn't been any metastasis in his bones or brain, which they had fully expected. It has truly been a miracle this year.
He ended up back in the hospital this morning; they're trying to get a better look at the source of some bleeding since he's coughing up quite a bit of blood. He tells me he feels this sharp, stabbing pain in his lungs, and I can see the exact moment it hits him—he gets this pained expression and instinctively clutches his chest. On the flip side, I was honestly stunned yesterday by how great his blood work came back. His white cell count, hemoglobin, urea, creatinine, blood sugar, electrolytes... everything looked fantastic. He really is such a resilient, tough old man.
The ladies at the pharmacy actually started teasing me, joking that I must have some kind of mad scientist setup at home since I seem to be constantly clearing out their shelves with all these prescriptions. Honestly, though, I don't mind the jokes; as long as his blood counts stay strong, there's still hope. If only he weren't so incredibly stubborn about everything, things might be even easier. 🙂 But I suppose that's just the family trait we all inherited. 🤣
Sending big hugs :*

Carol Ramirez said:Regarding my grandfather, Angela Wright, you hit the nail on the head. He was diagnosed with bronchial cancer last November, and the doctors basically gave him two or three months to live. Fast forward six months, and they’re scratching their heads because there aren't any metastases in his bones or brain like they fully expected. This year has been nothing short of a miracle.
He ended up back in the hospital this morning. They're trying to pinpoint the source of some bleeding because he’s coughing up quite a bit of blood. He says he feels this sharp, stabbing pain in his lungs, and I can see it hitting him in real-time—he gets this look of pure agony and clutches his chest. On the flip side, I was actually shocked yesterday by how solid his blood work looks. White cell count, hemoglobin, urea, creatinine, blood sugar, electrolytes... everything is perfect! The man is tough as nails; he's a real fighter.
The ladies at the pharmacy were giving me a hard time, joking that I must have some kind of mad scientist kit at home since I'm constantly clearing out their shelves with his prescriptions. Honestly, I don't care what they think. As long as his blood counts stay strong, there's still hope. If only he weren't such a stubborn old mule, everything would be perfect.🙂 But I guess that crankiness runs in the family.🤣
Sending love, big hugs :*

I'm really hoping this is just one of those "lesser evils" where he's dealing with another bout of inflammation😢. It's a huge relief that his blood work is healthy. Whatever approach you're taking, stick to it—it's clearly working, considering that tumor seems to be staying under control. You've found a combination that actually holds its own. Keep us posted.

We’re fighting the same battle over here. My mom goes through these phases where she’ll call my work ten times in a row just because. It’s always something—she needs to go to the bathroom, she can’t go to the bathroom, lunch was delicious, someone is coming over, someone is taking her out for tea, whether I want this or that when I get home, that I shouldn't bother cooking tomorrow, her head hurts, why she's peeing so much or why she isn't peeing, asking me to call my sister so she doesn't show up tomorrow, asking if I already called my sister so she won't come by tomorrow, or telling me that when I go to the market on Saturday, I absolutely have to pick up this specific thing because it’s so tasty or healthy or cheap...
😲

I lose my cool sometimes because she’ll take up my entire Saturday morning, calling, ringing the bell, calling, ringing, ringing, ringing, ringing...😲

I tried to set up an appointment for her with a psychiatrist, but she refused to go even if her life depended on it, insisting she doesn't need any of that. One time she was acting so wild that I actually called the Crisis Center and told her, "Fine, you talk to them for a bit then."😲

Then there are days when she doesn't call me at all, which makes me worry,🙄 so I end up calling her, only to find her in a perfectly wonderful mood, just beaming. But if I don't call her, she calls me to demand why I've suddenly stopped checking in.

I’m going insane. 😲

Naturally, the rest of us are all at each other's throats now. This whole situation is one massive test, and some people have revealed sides of themselves I never even knew existed.
My mom isn't usually a bitter person because that's just not her nature, but she is a world-class troublemaker.😲
Sometimes, I honestly wish she were just bitter instead.😁

Melissa Kim45 said:Of course we've all ended up at each other's throats. This whole situation is one massive stress test, and frankly, some people have revealed sides of themselves I never even knew existed.

Yeah, and that’s exactly what cut me so deep... my mom is sick, while you people aren't🙄. It really feels like this kind of suffering only hits truly exceptional people, because they're the only ones capable of enduring it to the end the right way.

Lawrence Rogers56 said:Respect and my deepest condolences.

I also laid my dad to rest this past Tuesday, October 9th, 2007.
He had lung cancer that spread to his liver, and the whole thing just went south incredibly fast—everything wrapped up within three months of the diagnosis.
He was 64.

Look, I’m no medical expert or anything, and until pretty recently, cancer was just this distant, terrifying concept to me that I didn't really wrap my head around.
If it helps at all, my dad had those same sky-high bilirubin levels because his liver function was starting to tank.
High bilirubin isn't necessarily a death sentence on its own, but it causes that mild jaundice look and is a massive red flag that the liver is struggling.
Because his liver wasn't functioning right, they couldn't even go through with the chemo. But despite all that, the actual cause of death was fluid buildup in the lungs—some technical term in Latin, I think.

That's all from me.
Take care!

Hey, my condolences to you too regarding your father.

Yeah, I've read about this and heard it before—high bilirubin doesn't have to be the end of the road. But let's be real, once you hit 670 mmol/L when the normal range is only around 20? Yeah, any hope is basically gone at that point... In the hospital, his levels actually started dropping, hitting 540 mmol/L after three days, but then his creatinine spiked, his kidneys failed, and that was it...

But there's one thing about my old man's illness that I just can't wrap my brain around.

I don't get how the liver tumor (a primary HCC, not a metastasis, mind you) seemed to be shrinking so well after the chemoembolization treatments—you can clearly see it in the discharge papers from months 6 and 7. Plus, his ALT, AST, and GGT weren't nearly as astronomical as the bilirubin. One doctor at the local university hospital explained to us that ALT and AST show liver function, while GGT indicates necrosis, or basically the amount of dying cells. His ALT and AST were under 200, and GGT was around 300, which is still way above normal, but I know people who live with much higher numbers without their liver failing completely...

Maybe I should have pushed the doctor who treated him since the diagnosis to explain things better, but honestly, I could barely find the strength to even walk into the hospital to grab the discharge papers. Having to ride that same elevator we spent so many hours in over the last year, walking down that same hallway past the ICU where he passed, passing room 9 where he stayed every single time he was admitted and where he spent his final days... It's just brutal. I grabbed the paperwork and practically ran out of that hospital in tears, praying I'd never have to step foot in that place again...

I could really use some help from you guys if we can try to put together a master list of all the different types of assistance a sick person is actually entitled to, based on the posts from yesterday. I’ve read through everything, but I’m honestly not sure if I’ve grasped all the details correctly.
It would be great if you could write down the exact name of the "service" and how you actually go about getting it.
I can start with what we’ve managed to pull together so far.

1. A nurse who comes by every single day to administer injections (we handed over all the medical records to her primary care physician, so it went through one of their committees)
2. A ruling for 100% disability (we submitted the request along with all the medical documentation to the Social Security Administration, at the Company location); the result is being exempt from co-pays and administrative fees—someone please explain to me exactly what those are—plus a bunch of perks related to vehicles, but that's not my main focus right now...
3. ...

You guys mentioned a nurse for caregiving, but what does that actually entail? How much time per day are they there for? Does the patient have to be completely immobile to qualify? Are we talking about a home health nurse?
Sorry people, I have a hundred questions. My mom’s primary doctor is such a total hack that he hasn't helped our situation one bit so far; if anything, he's made things worse by writing incorrect referrals and withholding information.😈

We ended up hiring a woman to watch over Mom ourselves, paying her out of pocket, obviously.

Melissa Kim45, how is your mom doing when it comes to mobility?
Man, what you’re writing is awful, but somehow you still make me laugh. Here’s an example of what happened with us yesterday: I call Mom on her cell while I'm at work; the phone is off. I get pissed because we constantly nag her that the phone MUST always be on just in heaven forbid something happens. I call the landline. She picks up and we talk for a second, and I tell her, "Put your phone on the charger and TURN IT ON (because even that seems to be an issue)," thinking she'll do it right after we hang up. Instead, she drops the receiver and just walks away. I wait for her to come back, but she doesn't. I call the cell—still off. I call the landline—the line is dead because the receiver is still off the hook. For the next ten minutes, I'm calling back and forth, already picturing myself having to drive over there just to hang up the phone for her. After the hundredth attempt, I finally get through to her cell because she actually managed to turn it on.🙂

brightgardener8 said:You’re talking about a visiting nurse, but what does that actually entail? How many hours a day are they really there? Does the patient have to be completely immobile to qualify? Are we talking about home health nursing?
I'm sorry, everyone, I just have a million questions. My mom’s primary care doctor is such a total hack that he hasn’t helped our situation one bit—if anything, he’s made it worse by writing incorrect referrals and withholding vital information.😈

We ended up hiring a woman to look after my mom ourselves; we pay her out of pocket, obviously.

In my experience, my mother received daily care, and that's all determined by the head home health nurse. She’s the one who assesses the patient's overall condition and makes a recommendation to the GP, who then sends it to the review board—which, in our case, has always been approved. The maximum you can get for a nurse is 45 minutes a day, though she always stays as long as necessary to finish her tasks. Sometimes 20 minutes is plenty, but when we deal with complications like bathing alongside the regular routine, she’s stayed for as long as an hour and a half. You can also arrange for care seven days a week. The head nurse (a wonderful woman who has walked through this hell with me three times now, so she truly gets it) offered us that seven-day option, except on Saturdays and Sundays, a nurse on call comes whenever they can make it. That could be anytime from early morning to late afternoon, which made zero sense for us because we couldn't leave the house all weekend, and my dad and I usually handle the bathing together on Saturday mornings anyway. Basically, if someone needs it, they can negotiate, but it all hinges on the "staffing quality" managed by the agency.

jadetinker42 said:I just don't quite wrap my head around it. His liver tumor—this was primary HCC, not a metastasis, and it hadn't spread anywhere—actually responded really well to the chemoembolization treatments. You can see it right there in the discharge papers from months 6 and 7. Plus, his ALT, AST, and GGT levels weren't nearly as massive as his bilirubin levels were. One doctor at the hospital explained to us that while ALT and AST indicate general liver function, GGT points more toward liver necrosis, essentially showing the amount of dead cells. For him, ALT and AST stayed under 200, while GGT was around 300. That’s still high and well above normal, but I know people who live with much higher numbers without their liver failing entirely...

Maybe I should have pushed for one more conversation with his attending physician to get some clarity, but honestly, I could barely find the strength to even walk into the hospital to pick up the discharge paperwork. I couldn't face getting back into that same elevator we spent so many hours in over the last year. I couldn't bear walking down that hallway past the ICU where the elderly gentleman passed away, or passing Room 9—the room he occupied every single time he came in, and where he spent his final days... It’s just devastating. I grabbed the papers and practically ran out of that hospital in tears, praying I’d never have to set foot in there again...

Hey there.

Go ahead and talk to the doctor if you think it might help you process everything or find some peace. But I hear you—there’s nothing quite like that heavy feeling of carrying home a bag full of personal belongings and looking back at an empty hospital bed.

Anyway, let's move away from the tragedies for a moment.
My heart goes out to everyone else out there fighting this battle. You have to be incredibly strong to do what you're doing.
Kudos to all of you.

Take care.

Grace Fowler said:Hi everyone!
My heart goes out to anyone who has lost their loved ones recently... honestly, sometimes I get this wave of anxiety just reading through all these stories... but I always find a way to shake it off and just keep pushing forward.. anyway, this coming Wednesday is my sixth-to-last one in this cycle... so right now, I am just laser-focused on making sure my white cell and platelet counts stay high enough so I can actually get the treatment... If God wills it, I'm heading over to a clinic in Germany next Monday for some intensive immunotherapy—I'm feeling really hopeful that this might be the thing that helps...
Sending love to you all, please stay strong for me... Grace

DEAR GRACE, just keep moving forward! You've got this! 🙂

brightgardener8 said:Melissa Kim45, how’s your mom doing when it comes to mobility?
Honestly, what you wrote is pretty brutal, but it actually gave me a little chuckle. Here’s a classic example from our house just yesterday: I try calling Mom from work on her cell; it’s off. I get annoyed because we constantly drill it into her head that her phone needs to be ON at all times, just in case of heaven forbid some emergency. So, I call the landline. She picks up, we talk for a split second, and I tell her, "Put your phone on the charger and TURN IT ON (because even that seems to be an issue)," assuming she’ll just do it right after we hang up. Instead, she just drops the receiver and walks away. I wait for her to come back, but she doesn't. I try the cell—still off. I try the landline—the line is dead because the receiver is still off the hook. For the next ten minutes, I'm cycling through calls, already picturing myself having to walk over there just to hang up the phone for her. After about a hundred attempts, I finally get through to her cell because she actually managed to turn it on eventually.🙂

She’s mobile enough. 🙄
She can walk, sure, but there is absolutely no way she’s getting anything done around the house. She can’t iron, she’s slow, she’s clumsy, though she can manage to change her own diaper (she wears those ones that look like giant pads). She could spread butter on toast, but she won't. I’ll do that for her; she won't.🙄
She can’t shower, but she can brush her teeth.

The whole thing is basically just constant trips to the hospital. We drive her there, they draw blood, she waits for results, and then she starts pacing around like a maniac—last time, the doctor told her she should probably just keep some Xanax in her purse😁—then the results come back in maybe two hours, she’s already frantic, and suddenly it's "let's get an IV started" because her electrolytes are crashing.
She finished her sixth round of chemo (she’s on some kind of IV protocol now), which was over before we knew it, but we had to wait a bit for transport home since we aren't available to drive her 24/7. Now she has a ten-day window to recover from the chemo before the next check-up, which will likely play out exactly like what I described above.
I know nurses can draw blood at home and you can even get IV fluids at home, but since her electrolyte issues happen so frequently, maybe it’s actually better if she just goes to the hospital every single time for now, even if it’s a massive hassle for both her and us.

brightgardener8, regarding all this, you should really ask the visiting nurse who comes by first; you can learn a ton from them. She might not be able to make any decisions herself, but she can tell you exactly who to contact and what specific things to ask for, and then you can coordinate with the home health aide when they arrive. At least then you'll know what to tell the doctor to write down. I honestly have no clue about half that stuff or I just forget. Last time, my doctor gave me an earful because the home health nurse hadn't sent over the report. And then what am I supposed to do?🙄
Then, out of nowhere, the nurse who visits three times a week tells me that the home health aide is coming tomorrow. What home health aide? They haven't been by in ages.😲 I'm like—uh, no, she can't do tomorrow, Mom has to go where she went to see the specialist in Jordan. I spend the next two days killing myself trying to find a phone number, unable to reach anyone, until I finally call the local clinic, they tell me something useless, and I'm like, "Look, just give me a name and a number." Finally, someone helps.😁
There have been so many times where a nurse visit was scheduled, especially during the summer, only for plans to shift—one nurse didn't even have a cell phone, it was a nightmare—and then Mom's condition worsens, she ends up in the hospital, and I'm stuck waiting for a nurse before work because I couldn't find anyone to tell that they shouldn't bother coming.
Over time, you just get used to it; you start getting on their wavelength, you tweak all the numbers, and eventually, everyone reaches an understanding.
The people on the committee (God knows why they even exist)😠 can be pretty obnoxious, but they demand every single detail. You just take whatever they approve—and don't get worked up if they cut what the home health nurse originally requested in half—and then you just work things out with the person who shows up to help.
You’re also entitled to quite a bit of supplies, like diapers or those bed pads so nothing leaks through... stuff like that.

Angela Wright said:Yeah, and honestly, that’s what really stung... my mom is sick, and people just aren't🙄. It truly feels like this kind of suffering only happens to certain special people, because frankly, they might be the only ones capable of enduring it properly until the very end.

I know exactly what you mean. It’s almost like they’re doing it on purpose. Ever since her chemotherapy, she has to stay away from crowds and contact with others, especially now when everyone seems so recklessly ill. I’ve experienced such a profound, heavy sense of emptiness and sheer stupidity from those who are supposed to be close enough to us that it actually hurts to think about.

By the way, thanks for that tip about the shower. We don't have one of those floor setups in our bathroom. If the opportunity ever arises—and I won't hold my breath regarding having the time—maybe we'll pull out the tub and install a walk-in shower, which is something I've been thinking about doing for a while anyway. Until then, someone can just come over, we'll get everything handled, and then I'll just drive her home and call it a day. The restroom is separate, so that isn't an issue, and most of it ends up in a diaper regardless. 😁
But, we'll see. It’s not the priority right now, and I simply don't have the nerves or the energy left to deal with it.

Melissa Kim45 said:Well, we'll see about that. It isn't the priority right now, and frankly, I don't have the nerves or the milligrams left to deal with it.

If you want my advice, get that taken care of as soon as humanly possible. Total helplessness hits you out of nowhere, and more often than not, it’s terminal—at which point talking about "nerves" becomes completely irrelevant. I can't help but think about how some elderly folks spend years grumbling about fixing up their bathrooms, acting like, "Oh, I'm just getting old," only to realize a few years later they can't even climb into a tub and get back out without help... and by then, the ship has sailed, honey. Every single time we try to give Mom a bath, Dad ends up in tears because he waited too long to fix the situation. Now, we're short on cash, and trying to manage contractors, mess, and dust while dealing with her illness for two weeks straight is just impossible given everything else we're facing.
See if there is any way you can pull this off right now.

Angela Wright said:@ The One

It doesn't necessarily have to be cancer. Personally, I think it’s more likely that because she was already sick before and didn't quite recover properly, some inflammation or a virus turned into a more serious case of bronchitis or pneumonia. It could even be asthma—chest pain is a very classic symptom of an asthma attack.
I know you're scared; seeing someone you love struggling like this is incredibly hard, but honestly, the best thing you can do is try not to panic until the tests come back and you actually know what you're dealing with. If, God forbid, it is something worse, there will be a way to face it.

She has a tumor or a cyst that's blocking her esophagus, which is why she hasn't been able to eat normally. The doctor mentioned it might be benign, but he said the chances of that are slim. 😢 She’s already been in the hospital for three days, and who knows if she'll even make it home anytime soon. I'm terrified of what's coming. I just want everything to go well so she can at least come home by Christmas and we can celebrate New Year's together like we always do, but I feel like luck isn't on my side...👎

It feels like everyone around me is just dying this year. Damn this life and everything about it. 🙂

Anonymous said:She has a tumor or a cyst obstructing her esophagus, which is why she hasn't been able to eat normally. The doctor mentioned it might be benign, though the odds aren't exactly in our favor. 😢 She’s been stuck in the hospital for three days now, and at this point, I don't even know if she’ll make it back home. I'm terrified of what comes next. I just want everything to turn out fine—I'd give anything for her to be back home by Christmas so we could celebrate the New Year properly, but I'm not holding my breath...👎

It feels like everyone around me is just dying this year. Honestly, life can be a cruel, senseless joke. 🙂

You can't afford to spiral like that just yet. You have to maintain some semblance of hope and refuse to let total darkness take over. Fear isn't an option right now. You need to find the strength to remain steady through this chaos, regardless of how grim it looks. Your job is to be her cheerleader, to help her fight for whatever comes next, and to act as the pillar she can lean on when everything else fails. I am wishing you both the very best. Don't start mourning before the battle is over. Have patience. Regards.