293 posts shown.
Melissa Parker37 said:My guiding light has finally gone out.
Dad, I love you so much. I really hope you're in a better place now.
Please accept my deepest, most sincere condolences.
casualrider21, please accept my sincerest condolences.
Terry Rogers, please accept my sincere condolences and hang in there.
Dear slyseal28, please accept my heartfelt condolences. Watching your fight gave me strength during my own hardest moments.
Please accept my sincerest condolences.
Amy Hayes28 said:My dad has passed away for good.😢
thank you Jane and everyone else who reached out to lend a hand during such a difficult time.
Please accept my deepest condolences. Hang in there. 🙂
rapidfalcon13 said:dear friends of this forum
today our Dina9 has gone to the angels 😢...I know it because she truly was an angel🙂. She closed her (lately) sorrowful eyes and went to join her dad (that’s how she used to say it, that her dad was waiting for her, even though she still had the strength to live... until today)
.
I just have to get this out there.. 😢
my dear D... I am going to miss you so much, all your beautiful words, all your dreams, and all that optimism you held onto despite the sea of bad things surrounding you... it’s hard, and my heart is aching... I love you deeply and sincerely...
The earth is sown with mortal seeds
But death is not the end
Because death doesn't actually exist
And there is no end
Death is merely the illuminated path upward
From the nest to the stars
Mak DizdarDarling, may your journey to the stars be peaceful, and thank you for giving us all strength through the hardest of times. Dina9, you really were our star.
My deepest condolences to the family.
Kimberly Bishop91, I am so incredibly sorry for your loss.
slyjackal38 said:My dear husband passed away on January 9th. It was such a heavy, gut-wrenching feeling having to pick up the phone at 12:25 in the morning when they called. If he were still here, he would have turned 53 today.
I want to thank everyone for all the advice and the support you've shown me.
I fully intend to stay active here and try to help anyone else navigating this, sharing everything I've learned about how insidious this disease really is.
Please accept my deepest condolences.
Melissa Castillo said:I’m looking for some advice—is there any kind of priority access for cancer patients when it comes to waiting lines at a primary care doctor's office? It honestly feels wrong that someone whose immune system has been completely wrecked by chemotherapy is expected to sit in a crowded waiting room for hours, surrounded by people coughing and sneezing all over them. And then there's the issue of the doctors themselves, who might call the fourth person on the schedule the twentieth person in line, if you can believe it. 😠 😠 😠
I'm not entirely sure if a specific "fast track" exists, but we handled things similarly for my mom, specifically because of all the points you brought up. Toward the end, we switched to a different doctor—we already knew her because she had been filling in for the previous one quite often—and she was already pretty well-versed in the situation. We worked out an arrangement where we would drop off a detailed list of medications the day before, and then just swing by the next day to pick up the prescriptions.
Maybe try suggesting a similar setup or an informal agreement; the next time you go, perhaps don't bring your mother along, instead bring the latest discharge papers if you have them, and write down every single medication detail along with her full name on a sheet of paper. Patients dealing with such heavy illnesses shouldn't be subjected to unnecessary physical or mental strain in those cramped clinics, not to mention the obvious risks to their fragile health. Our doctor was even willing to do a quick home visit just to see how everything was progressing, and we never really had any trouble getting that coordinated.
slyrider11 said:My mom passed away five days ago... the doctors were right to make that call.
It’s a small comfort, I suppose, knowing she didn't have to suffer through intense pain.
I want to thank everyone here for the kind words and support. Unfortunately, her cancer had just progressed too far, so there wasn't even a chance for her to put up a fight, even though she was such a fighter her whole life.
So, to everyone currently in the ring fighting this thing, I’m sending you all the luck and strength in the world... please beat this monster, both for yourselves and for those who didn't get the chance to fight.
Please accept my deepest condolences.
Dear Vince, please accept my deepest condolences. 🙂
I am just so incredibly sorry for your loss, and for all the heartache you, your mother, and your sister have had to endure lately. I know you’ve got the strength to get through this, even with everything coming your way in the days ahead. Hang in there, dear Vince. 🙂
rapidseal49, I wanted to reach out and send my condolences your way.
quietpilot87, please accept my deepest condolences.
I also wanted to mention that I’m right here reading everything you all post; my thoughts are basically with every single one of you (I actually typed out a bunch of names and then deleted them just so I wouldn't accidentally leave anyone out). Please, stay strong and hang in there. I know how heavy this all feels right now. It’s going to get better, and I am absolutely certain that you’re all going to navigate through this with incredible courage. 🙂
velvetgull9 said:Oh Melissa Kim45... I am just so, so sorry. 🙂
Thanks, velvetgull9. You're sweet. 😘
Please accept my deepest condolences.
Thanks so much, you guys. 😘
Hey everyone, my dear friends. 😘
Thank you all. I really don't want this post to be an exercise in sadness. My mom was blessed enough to have everything happen right here at home; I literally held her as she passed, though I can't say for certain if she knew what was happening. It all went by so incredibly fast.
I don't think she realized, and honestly, she didn't seem afraid. I just hope she’s holding steady and having a smooth journey.
She was already so weak yesterday evening, even dealing with a bit of vomiting. This morning, she took some Megostat and a little ProSure, but she wouldn't touch anything else besides a few sips of water. Her breathing was heavy, but it wasn't something you could even truly detect—I kept checking her, touching her, massaging her heart, lifting her arms above her head just to try and help her catch a breath, but it didn't matter. She just went out like a candle. She just slipped away. She was actually still alive while I was calling my brother to rush over, but she didn't stay to wait for him. We got her ready, and I called the woman who had been looking after her. Aside from my brother and me, she was the only one who had been there consistently for over a year now, and I think it was her wish to see her through. Then the coroner arrived, asking questions that I answered almost like a robot. They picked her up around two-thirty. Two men showed up, and one of them was the exact same guy who handled my dad's services eight years ago. I recognized him, and he actually remembered us too; even though it’s been quite a while, the situation back then was unusual enough to stick in your memory. We didn't dress her in black or anything formal; we just dressed her the way she would have wanted to look herself. I even applied a little balm to her lips, since she used to suffer from being so dry.
I'm home alone right now. I'm cycling through these waves of numbness and crying, but there's this underlying sense of peace. That body... that isn't my mother. I truly believe her soul seized the opportunity to leave as early as last night. "I am death, your mother, and I am introducing you to life." Lord. Her suffering is over now, and I just pray that God watches over her.
Please, fight like lions; never, ever give up. Death is such an easy thing, but it's us on this side who end up carrying all the heavy burdens.
May God protect you all, and your loved ones too.
My mom fought such a long, grueling battle. She was a winner in her own way, and honestly, she was a massive one.
She passed away this morning.
I just wanted to say thanks to everyone here; I love you all so much. Please, keep fighting for us too—stay brave and give it everything you've got.
I'll check back in later when I have more to say.