Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

ironsailor22 said:I'm going through this right now with a single parent who has bone metastases. Even with the patches, there isn't a single moment without pain. Nobody in the house sleeps at night, and I honestly don't know how to help. I end up arguing with our family doctor every single time I ask for stronger patches, but he just won't give them to me. Everyone talks about how pain needs to be managed and how patients shouldn't have to suffer, but nobody in our healthcare system actually does anything. You get the patches and that's it. Whether they even work or not doesn't seem to matter to anyone. We're living in the 21st century, and despite all the scientific wonders out there, people are still dying in agony and suffering like it's the Middle Ages.
They say you can live relatively long with bone metastases since the vital organs aren't affected yet, but this suffering has been going on for three years now. It gets worse every single day, and I just want this agony to finally end so she never has to feel pain ever again.

I'll say it again—every cancer is brutal, but unfortunately, bone cancer is the absolute worst... Tomorrow marks 10 years since my dad passed, and I remember it like it was yesterday—how he would scream at every single breath, every sip of water... at everything... at nothing... just constant screaming... 24 hours a day. Morphine at this stage doesn't really fix it... I mean, it helps just enough to take the edge off, but the pain is still insane.

You said you don't know how to help... sadly, there's no way... I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but there's just no solution. Another terrible thing back then was that they wouldn't even admit a patient like that (someone who is beyond help) into any hospital in New York City (and I knew someone in every single one back then, but even that didn't help)... I don't know if it's still like that today.

My dad was on liquid morphine... I don't know what kind of patches you're using... his primary doctor had to write a new prescription almost every day (because you couldn't get more than a few at a time)... and I’d end up carrying that morphine to the hospital myself (because they didn't have enough there... yeah, it was awful). But doctors are restricted on how much they can give—that's why you're clashing with your doctor... they can only prescribe up to a certain dose, otherwise they could actually face legal trouble for essentially performing unauthorized euthanasia.

I've been out of that situation for quite a few years now, so I have no clue where to find morphine on the black market... but if I were in your shoes again, without a second thought or any hesitation (since I was only 20 back then and still naively believed everything the doctors said), I would try to get morphine from whatever source I could and give it to my dad/mom just to satisfy the craving... just so they wouldn't scream, just so they wouldn't wail... not because I couldn't sleep from the noise, but because it hurts them, and you just feel so incredibly helpless.

Three years feels like a really long time for that type of cancer, and I'm surprised no vital organs have been hit yet... where did the cancer start primarily? I am so, so sorry you're all going through this misery for such a long time... sending you all the strength, courage, and wisdom in the world!

Grace Campbell88 said:Thanks for this post and for being so incredibly thorough. Even though reading through everything was pretty heavy, it actually helped me out... it’s made it a lot easier to accept, with God's blessing, that my dad is gone. I'm just feeling lucky that he didn't have to suffer for too long. Thank you.😘

I'm just so glad I could help... honestly, it’s been a long time since I’ve really been able to talk about this stuff. Before, all I could really say was that they were gone. But you know, there’s a blessing in it—both for them and for those of us left behind when someone passes quickly, without too much struggle or pain.

Wishing you all the best! 😉

ironsailor22 said:Huge thanks to slyseal28 and everyone else for all the advice!
I’m honestly just spinning my wheels right now and feeling totally lost on what to do next. About a week ago, I picked up a used wheelchair, but we really only use it when I’m moving her from the bed to the bathroom. Even so, it’s a lifesaver because she can't even manage a single step on her own anymore. Next on the list is getting a medical bed, because trying to get her comfortable enough to actually sleep without being in constant pain is becoming a total nightmare.
I spent the entire afternoon stuck in the waiting room at the Dugava Health Center today just waiting for their computer system to stop glitching so I could grab a prescription for stronger patches. It is absolutely wild that an entire medical IT system can be down all afternoon, leaving nobody in the whole clinic able to get a referral or a script—and this happens way too often. So, I’m back at the doctor's first thing tomorrow morning, praying I finally walk out with those patches. Honestly, it’s just how things work here; it takes two days of running around just to get one simple prescription.

If you don't mind me chiming in, I have a suggestion... just think about it and see if it works for you... try calling a hospital out in a place like rural Pennsylvania... http://www.hospital-example.com/ ... I ended up placing my dad there toward the end (well, via phone since they didn't have beds, so they actually brought an extra one to us) because he needed 24/7 care. The hospitals in NYC wouldn't take him, and after being so sleep-deprived and wiped out, I just didn't have the strength or the know-how to handle him alone anymore... they took great care of him, which let me actually sleep at night and just visit him during the day...

From the moment my dad had to move into a wheelchair (just like your situation now) until he passed, it was about three months... with my mom, it was much shorter... how long or short that is really depends on everything.

And definitely ask for as many prescriptions as possible right away... and the max amount allowed per script... it really comes down to how cool your doctor is. I was lucky enough to have a decent, compassionate human being. (Though, I did end up getting into some arguments at the pharmacies, because they'd sometimes snap at me like I was some junkie looking for morphine for myself 😠 ).

Robin Stewart44 said:I ended up getting into a massive shouting match at the local pharmacies. Honestly, I shouldn't be surprised. They had the nerve to look me right in the eye and imply I’m some kind of junkie just looking to score a fix of morphine for myself. The audacity! 😠 )

🤣🤣🤣

Robin Stewart44 said:I’m telling you again: every type of cancer is a nightmare, but bone cancer? It is hands down the absolute worst. Tomorrow marks ten years since my father passed away, and I can still see it all so clearly—it feels like it happened just yesterday. I remember how he would scream at everything. Every single sip of water, every movement, every little thing... even when there was nothing happening at all. He was just constantly screaming. Twenty-four hours a day. At that stage, morphine doesn't do much of anything. Sure, it might dull the edge slightly, but the pain? It’s still absolutely maddening.

I am so sorry, dear, you shouldn't have had to endure all of that... I honestly didn't realize the gravity of the situation until you mentioned that bone cancer is the absolute worst. 😢 I’ve always been under the impression that lungs are the absolute worst.

Robin Stewart44 said:...I honestly don't even know if things are still like that today!

Yep, that’s still exactly how it works today. You tell them it’s cancer, and suddenly the paramedics won't even bother showing up. 😢
I felt so incredibly bad for my dad that I actually considered calling them up and lying through my teeth, telling them things were going terrible and that I couldn't even tell what was wrong with me... Of course, they would have seen right through it the second they arrived, but honestly? Thank God they did. Because once they're gone, they won't be turning back around to come back. It's a blessing, really.

brisksurfer said:I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, dear... I honestly had no idea until you mentioned that bone cancer is the absolute worst. 😢 I always used to think lungs were the absolute worst part of the body to deal with...

Thanks so much... life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. We all deal with our own stuff, and I just had to accept this as my reality. When it comes to how brutal cancer can be, bone cancer is usually considered one of the toughest out there—mostly because it ends up affecting the entire body, from your toes all the way up to your brain. My dad actually started with lung cancer, which eventually spread to his bones. After that, lymph node cancer is often seen as being just as heavy, or right up there with bone cancer. Then you have everything else that's localized. But honestly, anyone dealing with metastases and that kind of pain is going through hell. 😢

brisksurfer said:Yeah, honestly, it’s still the same story today... you tell the paramedics it’s cancer-related and suddenly they act like they don't want to show up at all. 😢
I felt so bad for my parents that I actually considered calling them up and lying, telling them things were going south and I couldn't even figure out why... Honestly, they would've seen right through me once they showed up, but hey, at least by then they’d be able to turn around and walk away for good. Thank God for that.

I know people generally avoid showing up when cancer is involved, but honestly, my experience was totally different once they actually arrived. The night before my mom passed, she suddenly slipped into a coma. I couldn't even tell if she had gone into a coma or if she had already passed away—it was terrifying. That whole night was just pure chaos for a few hours. My brother wasn't home at the time, so the neighbors ended up stepping in (I won't get into the messy details of how that happened), and they called 911. At first, the paramedics didn't even want to come out. After an hour of back-and-forth arguing, they finally showed up, but then they refused to take her to the hospital, even though they confirmed she was in a coma and hadn't died yet. I was so exhausted I could barely stand, and I was terrified that she would pass away right before my eyes before my brother could make it back from out of town. They were being so difficult, acting like the hospital wouldn't even accept her. I eventually snapped and told them I was going to the hospital with her, and I wanted to look that heartless doctor in the eye. I was basically pleading with them—I’m only 23, and I was begging them to just let her stay in a room for one night so I could catch a few hours of sleep while they kept her comfortable until my brother got home. In the end, they finally gave in, but right at that moment, Mom actually woke up from the coma. She looked at me with these huge, terrified eyes and begged me not to take her to the hospital because she felt like she would die there. Once she said that, the paramedics just turned around and said, "Well, she's fully conscious now and clearly stated she doesn't want to go, so we have no legal grounds to force her to the hospital."

If there’s one thing I’ve learned for sure from watching my dad and then my mom go through it, it’s this: being sick in today's world is honestly such a luxury. I feel so bad for anyone who ever has to rely on our healthcare system. Instead of actually stepping up to help people when they're struggling, it feels like the whole system is just designed to let you down.

Even for us, the emergency services wouldn't show up when Mom's condition took a turn for the worse. When we finally got her to the hospital, they actually had the nerve to ask why we didn't just bring her ourselves. We only managed to get her admitted—and ensured she could spend her final days without agonizing pain—because of a personal connection, something I'll forever be grateful to one specific person for. But when I think back to those hours spent waiting just to be seen, the sheer lack of humanity... honestly, what am I even paying into this insurance for? What's the point of all those premiums if you're left completely on your own when it matters most? If you don't have money or connections, you basically don't exist. That's our ugly reality, and it isn't going anywhere. They look at you like you're nothing; sure, there are exceptions, but the system itself is a disgrace. I might as well just take the money I pay for my insurance and spend it while I'm still alive.

Honestly, I’m pretty worried that things in this country are only going to go downhill regarding this issue, rather than getting any better... especially with that clown Milinovic running the Department of Health.... etc.

There’s this disgusting sense of helplessness you get when you're just trying to find a shred of humanity in a doctor. In those moments, everything feels like it's riding on that one interaction, and then... nothing. It just falls apart. It makes me think of 😢...
The staff over at the Manhattan Health Center really had it out for me, especially this one guy—I can't even remember his last name, not that it matters. I distinctly remember asking him if they could perform the bronchoscopy under anesthesia. I was just checking if it was an option because my dad, besides being absolutely exhausted and struggling to breathe, was terrified of that procedure like it was some kind of nightmare. And this doctor? He actually snapped at me, telling me to worry about the laws while he handles the "medicine." And keep in mind, I'm a lawyer by trade. I wasn't demanding anything or making threats; I was literally just asking a question...

Honestly, it feels like so many doctors act just like politicians lately... like they’re untouchable or somehow above everyone else. They're burning through taxpayer money, but the second there's a profit to be made, they seem to totally lose that sense of humanity their job is supposed to be all about. It's honestly pretty gross. Major props to the ones out there actually doing their jobs with heart and integrity, though...

Hi everyone
I was searching for some info on Tarceva, which is how I ended up finding this group. My dad has been on it for about 15 days now, and honestly, he was doing fantastic until two days ago. His appetite came back, the leg pain and coughing finally let up, and he was actually in good spirits—something we haven't seen since this whole ordeal started over a year ago.
But now, he’s developed this rash on his face, nose, and scalp, and it's really bothering him.
Over the last couple of days, the scabs have started drying out, and the itching has become so intense he can't even sleep. He took some Zaldiar, which helped stop the itching, but now he's dealing with nausea and just can't eat anything; he's feeling pretty miserable overall.
To make matters worse, the doctor who is "always" supposed to be available hasn't returned my calls in two days.
Does anyone have any suggestions for managing the itching and nausea without adding more medications to the mix? :-(
I would love to do more research myself, but I've already hit a paywall after just two posts, and frankly, I'm already going through enough as it is.
Thanks

My mom (45) was just told at the Memorial Hospital Rib that she has colon cancer with liver metastases. However, the doctor also mentioned it’s technically considered an early stage, which is why she hasn't shown any symptoms yet. He said everything can be handled through surgery and chemotherapy, but honestly, I have no idea how this whole process actually unfolds.
how long does it usually take?
what's the standard procedure?
is it actually possible to survive this kind of cancer when it's caught in an early stage...
I guess I'm just terrified of what might happen to her, and I really don't want to face that reality.

Carol Chase31 said:Hi everyone,
I tried searching for info on Tarceva, which led me here. My dad has been on it for 15 days now and he was doing incredibly well until two days ago. His appetite came back, the leg pain and coughing stopped, and his mood actually improved—he hasn't been this upbeat since this whole ordeal started over a year ago.
But now, he has this rash on his face, nose, and scalp, and it’s really bothering him.
Over the last two days, the scabs have started drying out, and the itching has gotten so intense he can't sleep. He took some Zaldiar, which helped stop the itching, but now he's dealing with nausea, can't eat, and just feels terrible.
To make matters worse, the doctor who is "always" available hasn't returned my calls in two days.
Can anyone recommend something for the itching and nausea that isn't another new medication? :-(
I'd read more myself, but I'm tired of paying for every second post when I'm already at my breaking point.
Thanks.

My husband went through quite a bit of Tarceva himself (8 boxes), so I can tell you that what you're describing—those skin changes like peeling and breakouts—is actually a good sign. Our oncologist explained that it shows the body is responding to the Tarceva. My advice? Head to a pharmacy and explain the situation to the pharmacist; they can whip up a custom lotion for you. If those breakouts look inflamed, they might include an antibiotic to prevent anything serious like an infection from developing. That's how we handled it. If the pharmacist won't do it, a primary care doctor or a dermatologist can write you a prescription for something similar. Oncologists usually don't touch side-effect management like that. Most of the side effects (the nausea, loss of appetite, and pretty brutal diarrhea) tend to taper off after about a month. I really hope your dad can push through this and continue the treatment without too much more trouble. Good luck. 🙂

Carol Chase31 said:Hi everyone
I was trying to find some info on Tarceva, which led me here. My dad has been on it for 15 days now and he was actually doing great until two days ago. His appetite came back, his leg pain and coughing stopped, and he was finally in high spirits—something we hadn't seen since this whole ordeal started over a year ago.
But now he has this rash on his face, nose, and scalp, and it’s driving him crazy.
For the last couple of days, the scabs have been drying out, the itching has intensified, and he can't sleep. He took some Zaldiar and that helped stop the itching, but now he's dealing with nausea, can't eat, and just feels miserable.
And the doctor, who is supposedly "always" available, hasn't returned my calls in two days.
Can anyone recommend something for the itching and nausea that isn't a new medication? :-(
I would read more on my own, but I'm already paying after just two posts and honestly, I'm at my breaking point.
Thanks

Those are pretty standard side effects. You could try using some baby cream, though I suspect as long as he's on the drug, this discomfort is going to stick around. Tell him to try and hang in there for a few days, but you absolutely need to get a hold of his doctor to see what they recommend.

Arthur Palmer said:The doctors at the Mayo Clinic told my mom (45) that she has colon cancer with liver metastases, but they also said it's in an early stage. Because of that, she didn't have any symptoms, and they think everything can be operated on and handled with chemo. But now I don't know... how does that work?
How long does it take?
What's needed?
Is it even possible to survive this kind of cancer if it's in an early stage?
I'm honestly terrified of what might happen to her, and I really don't want to lose her.

Early-stage colon cancer is curable in over 90% of cases, even though those liver metastases make things more complicated. They'll likely perform surgery first, followed by radiation and chemotherapy to wipe out any remaining malignant cells and prevent a recurrence.
After the surgery, there's usually a recovery period of about 2 to 3 weeks, after which she'll meet with the oncologist to map out the rest of the treatment plan.
Every cancer and every patient is different, so outcomes vary. It's important to stay positive, face the diagnosis head-on, and accept the reality that one has to live with the possibility of the disease returning.
You can find more information about the disease and treatment options on the American Cancer Society website.

And yes, if he's dealing with pain—let him take Zaldiar if it actually helps. And absolutely do not skip the Tarceva—and of course, make sure you stick strictly to the prescribed schedule!

Angela Wright said:Those side effects are pretty standard. Maybe try applying some baby cream, though I suspect as long as he's on the medication, that discomfort will stick around. He should try to power through for a few days, then definitely try to get in touch with the doctor to see what they recommend.

Early-stage colon cancer is curable in over 90% of cases, even if there are spots on the liver—that just makes things a bit more complicated. Mom will likely undergo surgery, followed by radiation and chemo to wipe out any lingering malignant cells and prevent a recurrence.
After the surgery, there's usually a recovery period of about two to three weeks, after which she’ll meet with the oncologist to map out the next steps in the treatment plan.
Every cancer case is unique, and every body reacts differently, so outcomes vary. It's important to stay positive, face the diagnosis head-on, and accept the reality that one has to live with the possibility of a relapse for the rest of their life.
For more details on the disease and treatment options, check out www.medicalnews.com

Thank you so much for this information!!!! It really helped me calm down a bit after everything that's been happening this past week..

Robin Stewart44 said:thank you.... life isn't always kind.... and everyone carries their own burdens, and these were mine to bear, so I have simply accepted them.... regarding the severity of cancer, bone cancer is often cited as one of the most grueling types (because without exception, the entire system is affected, from a toe to the brain.... my father’s primary issue was in his lungs, which eventually led to the bone cancer)... and the second most severe, or perhaps equivalent in hardship, is considered to be lymph node cancer... and then there are all the other localized types... but truly, anyone dealing with metastases and the accompanying pain suffers immensely... 😢

I am acutely aware that people often hesitate to respond when cancer is mentioned, yet my own experience has been quite different once they actually arrive...... the night before my mother passed, she slipped into a coma, and I couldn't tell if she had merely lost consciousness or if she had already died.... that single evening was hours of pure chaos.... my brother wasn't home, neighbors gathered instead (I won't go into the details of how that came to be), and they called for an ambulance... at first, the responders didn't want to come, and after an hour of arguing, they finally arrived only to refuse to take her to the hospital (even though they confirmed she was in a coma and hadn't passed away).... and I, exhausted from lack of sleep, could barely stand, terrified of the moment she might pass before my brother returned from out of town...... they refused to help, acting as if the doctors wouldn't accept her anyway, so I spoke up in bitter frustration, demanding they drive me to the hospital with her just so I could face whatever inhumane doctor would reject a twenty-three-year-old's plea to let my mother stay in hospice for just one night, so that I might catch a few hours of sleep while they provided her with whatever comfort they could until my brother arrived...... (the epilogue was that they reluctantly agreed, but at that very moment, my mother woke from her coma and, with wide eyes and fear looking at her child, begged me not to take her to the hospital because she knew she would die there, at which point the paramedics claimed that since she had clearly stated she didn't want to go, they had absolutely no grounds to force her into the hospital............

what I have certainly learned from navigating this with my father first and then my mother is that, in this day and age, being ill has become a luxury, and woe to those who ever find themselves needing or relying on our healthcare system, because it seems designed to turn people away rather than provide aid to those in need......

Sadly, being sick is a luxury, and I am not sure which is harder... the desperation of helplessness or the immeasurable sorrow of watching a loved one slip away.. sending you a huge hug, dear!

Robin Stewart44 said:I know perfectly well they don't want to show up when cancer is involved.

Honey, first off, let me just say how deeply sorry I am for everything you’ve been through.
I went through the exact same thing, though mine was maybe a bit more complicated since the cancer hit her brain and that "coma" dragged on for over a year.
I came to terms with the situation—probably because I had more time to process things than you did. As horrific as it was, I got the chance to gradually face the inevitable and accept that this outcome was actually the best thing, not just for her, but for all of us in the family.
Hospitals are built for curative medicine; they aren't designed for patients in the terminal phase like your mom or mine. The terminal stage is the domain of palliative medicine, a specialized field practiced by highly trained doctors in facilities called Hospices—which we still lack here in America, being one of the last places to really catch up with the rest of the developed world. In that sense, the doctor you think is being inhuman is actually just the final cog in a broken machine. He’s arguably the least to blame; the real culprit is the government apparatus that still doesn't see the necessity of these institutions, because in this country, the dignity of living and dying has been pushed to the sidelines. It’s become a privilege reserved for those who have lined their pockets while the poor die like stray dogs in the streets.
The doctor who actually tried to take your mother in was going against the regulations and the pressure from his hospital administration, and honestly, against his own training too, since he isn't specifically educated to provide care for people in that state.
No matter how exhausted I felt—even when I was pushed to my absolute breaking point—it pales in comparison to the realization that I gave my mom so much more in her final days and hours than she ever would have received in any palliative or curative care facility. There is an immeasurable peace and a blessing in my heart and soul knowing she passed away at home, in my arms, clean, comfortable, fed, and without a single wound on her body. For a human being, a mortal creature, there is no greater mercy. If I could sign a contract right now, I’d choose that same kind of end for myself.

Angela Wright said:Honey, first off, I just want to say how incredibly sorry I am for everything you've been through.

Thanks, and right back at you—to you and everyone here who’s dealing with or has gone through these kinds of tough times...

Angela Wright said:Hospitals that focus on curative medicine just aren't set up for patients in the terminal phase like our moms were. Palliative care is its own specialized branch of medicine, handled by doctors specifically trained for it in facilities called Hospices—which we still don't really have in the US, being one of the last places to catch up in the West. In that sense, the doctor you feel was being inhumane is really just the final cog in the machine. They're actually the least to blame; the real issue is the government apparatus that still doesn't see the need for these types of facilities. Around here, dignity in living and dying is basically treated as an afterthought.

I totally get what you mean about hospitals... and yeah, the system and the country we live in are definitely to blame. But honestly, the way doctors act and what they can or can't do—as one part of that bigger machine—is a whole other conversation with plenty of sides to it. So, I wouldn't completely agree with you there...

Angela Wright said:Even if the doctor ultimately wanted to take your mom in, he was going against regulations and pressure from his hospital administration, and even against his own training, since he isn't specialized in caring for people in that stage.

I don't quite see it that way either... because in my case with Mom, it was just one night, one bed, in one hospital... and they *are* trained for end-of-life care. With Dad, it was different because he needed long-term placement and was in the terminal phase for much longer. In that situation, I finally accepted that we don't have the kind of facilities for those patients, though I still haven't truly made peace with it. Taxpayer money gets spent on everything under the sun, yet people die like they never contributed a thing to this country... but hey, that's a whole separate topic altogether...

Angela Wright said:Honestly, even though I was pushed to my absolute breaking point, that doesn't even touch what matters. Knowing I gave Mom so much more in those final days and hours than she ever would have gotten in some palliative care facility or hospital—that's everything. There’s this incredible peace and blessing in my heart knowing she passed away at home, right in my arms, clean, peaceful, and without a single wound on her body. For us mortals, there really isn't a greater mercy. If I had my way, I’d sign up for that kind of ending for myself too.

I totally get it—the exhaustion and all that other stuff is nothing compared to the actual pain and struggle parents go through, or just the weight of knowing I was right there by their side until the very end... but, let's circle back to the real issue of caregiving for patients like this. My willpower and physical stamina might be pretty high, but at the end of the day, they still need professional medical expertise that goes way beyond what a layperson can provide. What I will say, though, is that the fatigue and the emotional toll from that period don't just vanish. They don't fade easily—actually, it's quite the opposite. You don't even fully realize how deep it goes until years have passed.

Robin Stewart44 said:Thanks—right back at you and everyone else here who’s been through or is currently wading through the heavy stuff...

I know how things go with hospitals... obviously, the system is broken and the government we live under is to blame. But the way doctors behave and what they can or can't do—acting as just one gear in a massive machine—is a whole other conversation with plenty of angles. Personally, I’d probably agree with you there.

I wouldn't fully agree here either. In my mother's case, it was just one night, one bed, in one hospital. And they're supposed to be trained for people in their final stages. With my dad, it was different because he needed long-term care; he was sick for a much longer stretch in the terminal phase. In that instance, I eventually accepted that our country just doesn't have specialized facilities for patients like him, though I still haven't truly made peace with it. Taxpayer money gets poured into everything under the sun, yet people die as if they never contributed a dime to this country. But again, that's a whole separate debate.

I get that exhaustion and all that isn't nothing compared to the sheer agony and heartache parents endure—knowing they were right there by their side until the very end and all that. But let's circle back to the actual issue of care for these patients. My willpower and physical stamina might be strong, but at the end of the day, they need professional medical expertise, not just my amateur efforts. What I will say, though, is that the fatigue and the emotions piled up from that time don't just vanish. They don't fade easily; if anything, it's the exact opposite. You don't even realize the weight of it until years have passed.

Palliative care isn't just found in Hospices; it's also provided at home by palliative teams from the Hospice who come to assist those patients. Hospices aren't places where you stay for more than a week. Of course, professional help is vital, but you can't expect to receive that kind of specialized care properly within a curative medical facility. It’s like going to a dentist for anesthesia when you have appendicitis—it’s just the wrong setting. Personally, the internet and some insights from a home health nurse who specializes in this kind of work helped me immensely. But the most important thing you seem to have missed is that sense of home, of family warmth, and domesticity that you simply cannot find anywhere except at home. That is irreplaceable, and for someone who is dying, it's everything.
It’s only now that I feel sufficiently informed about all this. Don't let guilt over "humanity" or lack thereof haunt you; rest easy knowing you fulfilled your mother's wishes.

And don't just accept the fact that there aren't enough Hospices! That is precisely the problem—people settle too easily for things that are fundamental human rights. One of the main reasons I’ve become so active in advocating for oncology patients is specifically because of this lack of Hospice care. Whenever I get five minutes with any bigwig or decision-maker, I grill them about this issue.