Posts by Zachary Howard2

Elizabeth Fisher13 said:...The man had surgery for a tumor (I’m not sure exactly what kind) and now he’s dealing with metastases in his bones, liver, and wherever else, suffering through unbearable pain. They won't even admit him back to the hospital because they feel they've already done their part—they basically just sent him home to die.

That’s the grim reality of it. My own mother was sent home to die too, at a stage where she was terminal, immobile, incontinent, and barely lucid. Since I wasn't in a position to provide that level of care myself, I placed her in a hospice facility where she passed away after a week. At least there, she was cared for, kept clean, and given pain management—though, truthfully, I spent months afterward beating myself up with guilt over the decision.

Amanda Anderson87 said:So, how is everything going on your end? And how are you doing, Zachary Howard2, Michelle Kelly4, Lawrence Turner43, and school folks... how are my favorites?

I was out with my father-in-law in Springfield today. He’s scheduled to be admitted to the hospital for surgery on June 23rd. Honestly, having it handled now is much better than waiting until July 4th at Oakland General.
Even though both doctors gave us the exact same assessment—that while the procedure is doable, we really need to get it over with as soon as possible—it's still a relief.
Now, we just have to wait for the surgery and then see what the results show.

Angela Wright said:If he doesn't go through with the surgery right away, he might end up stuck in some specialized pulmonary ward because those lung metastases won't wait. 😢
Good grief, 🙂
I honestly think the best approach is to just give it to him straight: "Dad, you don't even have a week to waste. If this spreads, by this time next year, you’ll be dealing with much heavier consequences at Saint Peter." Tell him the doctors there are top-tier and handle these exact cases every single day.
If you hit a wall, let me know; I have a few more angles we could try to help convince him. 😉

Thanks, 🙂
I was re-reading his medical reports today and noticed he was prescribed Ensure. I asked if he was actually taking it, and the answer was a resounding no. So, I called my sister-in-law and had her practically force him to take those reports down to the pharmacy. She told the pharmacist to grab it under his insurance and hinted that his doctor clearly failed to explain the prescription or even mention it properly. 😵
My sister-in-law is still in Sweden and won't be back until next week, but she already gave them a call to tell them they need to start listening to me—apparently, I'm the supreme authority in the house now (which isn't surprising, given they've spent years praising me as the world's best daughter-in-law 😁).

Amanda Miller69 said:See? There’s never any peace... when I first found out, I honestly wondered if I had the strength to go through this all over again. But once that initial shock wears off, that fighter in me starts kicking in.
Unfortunately, I have plenty of experience with this, so at least this time I know what we're up against, which makes it a little easier to brace myself.
My only real concern right now is the wait for the surgery (nearly a month) and the dietary restrictions my father-in-law has to follow.
Let's just hope for the best....

I've narrowed it down to two options: Dr. Janevski over at Jordan, or Dr. Suarez at Vineyard. Both are supposedly top-tier surgeons. Does anyone have any insight?
The biggest headache right now is dealing with my father-in-law and mother-in-law—they are incredibly stubborn. At Jordan, they might be able to operate as early as next week (the doctor mentioned this should have been handled urgently right after his endoscopy, but apparently the local hospital in Springfield is a complete joke when it comes to wait times). For Vineyard, I can only try to talk them into it.
I'm trying to explain to them that we need to go where the earliest appointment is, but they're digging their heels in about Vineyard because they think Jordan is just a pulmonary hospital... It's so frustrating when you're genuinely trying to help and you just keep hitting a brick wall.

Angela Wright said:Oh, Zachary Howard2... 😢

It might not be such a grim prognosis, considering they caught it in the early stages. If the lymph nodes surrounding the tumor come back clear, chemo probably won't even be necessary—it’ll likely just be radiation. You know how the protocol works these days: surgery first, then we wait for the pathology report to decide the next move.

I honestly can't believe your family is being hit with this again 🙄. Look, try to view it through the lens of experience; with everything you've navigated before, you're going to handle these current hurdles much more efficiently than someone facing them for the first time. That's a significant advantage.

See? There's never a moment of peace. When I first found out, my immediate thought was whether I actually had the strength to go through this all over again, but once that initial shock wears off, that fighter in me starts to resurface.
Unfortunately, I have plenty of experience here, so at least this time I know exactly what we're up against, which makes the fight feel a bit more manageable.
My only real concerns right now are this agonizingly long wait for the surgery—nearly a month—and the fact that my father-in-law is struggling to keep anything down.
Let's just hope for the best....

I find myself back here after a few years away, following my mother's passing from ovarian cancer.
This time, however, the situation involves my father-in-law and an early-stage esophageal carcinoma (squamous cell).
I’ve been digging through various prognoses, and frankly, they aren't particularly encouraging... He is scheduled for surgery on July 4th, and as of now, there hasn't been any mention of follow-up radiation or chemotherapy.
Does anyone have any personal experiences to share? Unfortunately, I lack both the bandwidth and the emotional energy to scroll through everything from the beginning.

Angela Wright, I see you're still active here; consider me officially rejoined to the fold.

Angela Wright said:Could you please point me toward some links for clinics in Padua or the USA that actually perform this? Every doctor I speak to insists that this isn't an option for anyone with a cancer diagnosis. I have never been able to get a straight answer as to why.

From what I've gathered while wading through various medical programs on satellite TV, the issue is that the immunosuppressants used to prevent organ rejection essentially act as fuel for malignant cells, effectively "boosting" the spread of cancer.

hiddenstag said:To be honest, I’m at a loss for how to handle my own rage. I’ve always been one of those people who, once I set my mind to something, I see it through to the end. If things don't go according to plan, my first instinct is usually to go off on someone. I’ve actually climbed quite high in my career, and I hold a pretty senior management position now. But what really gets under my skin—what I struggle with most—is seeing people half-ass their jobs or just totally slack off. It throws me completely out of whack, and I feel like I lose all control. There are moments where I just want to smash everything in sight, and it takes me a long time to finally settle down.
I just don't know how to find some calm.

First off, if you want anything from people, you have to give something back. Nobody actually respects an authority figure who leads through rage. I used to work with a guy who was exactly like that—just constant yelling and threats. Sure, people were afraid of him, but they hated his guts and had zero respect for him.
On the other hand, I approach management as a quiet authority. I advocate for my team and shield them from outside pressure. Internally, if I need to address an issue, I do it directly without the screaming matches.
My team likes me, values my input, and respects my decisions; because of that, I always get the results I need from them. Give it a shot—you'll find you achieve much more through steady leadership than through sheer fury.

Men are generally messy—with rare exceptions like yourself—so trying to change that habit is probably a losing battle. Instead of suggesting your mother clean out the basement, why didn't you just step up and do it yourself?
If your father actually wanted to leave your mother, he would have done it by now; it’s all just empty talk.
Having had to fend for yourself since you were four years old, I imagine it's difficult to adjust to a different way of living.
Enjoy having parents around to tell you what to do while you still can. I lost mine five and two years ago, respectively, and having just crossed the 30 mark, I've only just realized, much to my regret, how much they truly meant to me.
Give it some thought.

Sophia Ross53 said:Is anyone actually going to answer me?
Or am I just shouting into the void here?

Look, if this thing actually cured cancer, it wouldn't be sitting on a shelf. It would have won a Nobel Prize in Medicine by now, because let’s face it—nobody has cracked the code on a cure yet.
In my estimation, this is just another immune booster and antioxidant, much like Imunomax or Biobran. It might help support the immune system or perhaps slow down the progression, but that's about it. I don't have direct experience with this specific product, but having dealt with cancer myself, I’ve spent my fair share of time researching and "trying" countless things on my mother. In the end, all we really managed to do was buy her a little more time.
I know you're terrified right now and everything feels completely overwhelming, but once the initial shock settles and you can think clearly, you'll find the strength to fight. You need to stay strong for your mom; she's going to need you to lead the way.

Matthew Davis75 said:I have a question for anyone who has dealt with this or knows more about it.

A friend of mine was recently diagnosed with an ovarian cyst, which turned out to be cancer via CT and CD scans—it looks like it may have spread to her intestines as well.
She’s dealing with significant ascites; they already performed a paracentesis and drained 4 liters, but they expect there to be at least that much more, which they won't touch until the surgery.
From what I overheard from the doctors, they aren't even certain yet if it has reached the liver.

Her surgery is scheduled in two days, yet this entire situation unfolded in just seven days. She had zero symptoms until last week, when her abdomen began swelling with fluid, followed by back pain, lower abdominal pain, constipation, and decreased urine output.

I'm looking for any shared experiences on this forum regarding this topic. I hope I've posted this in the right place, because everything I've managed to read online offers rather grim prognoses. Of course, nothing is ever 100% certain until they actually open her up and see the full extent of the damage.

What is the recovery process typically like after surgery? They mentioned chemotherapy as well...

Please help me wrap my head around all of this and let me know the best way I can support her.

Thanks in advance to everyone.

The true extent of things won't be clear until they perform the surgery. They will also run pathology to determine the exact stage and identify which organs are involved, and they'll drain the remaining fluid then. Usually, that fluid buildup is caused by the liver, so it's possible the liver is involved and we might be looking at a later stage. This type of cancer often presents with very few early warning signs.
Recovery is highly individual. My mother recovered relatively quickly, within a week or two, so I suspect your friend might recover just as fast. Typically, chemotherapy follows about a month after surgery—usually three rounds, then testing for tumor markers, followed by another three rounds. After that, there's often a "second look" surgery to remove anything else that couldn't be addressed during the initial procedure.
She should consider starting some immune support immediately, like high-quality propolis, Tylenol, or something similar. You can find plenty of information about the disease, supplement treatments, and even forums through the "Good Morning America" association link here:.
As for the prognosis, it really depends on the patient. In my mother's case, they gave her six months, but she ended up living for two years.
Feel free to ask anything else you need to know.

velvettiger90 said:Hi everyone,🙂
2. While I was actually in the hospital, I started feeling pain in my left breast—specifically on the outer side. It happened a few times throughout the day. Honestly, I panicked. I tried to tough it out for a few days, but eventually, my boyfriend nudged me to check myself, though I couldn't feel any lumps. The pain subsided for about ten days, but then a week ago, it came back. Same spot, same recurring discomfort several times a day. On top of that, for the last three or four days, my left armpit has been aching too—sometimes randomly, sometimes when I lift something heavy (though once, lifting something heavy actually made my right side ache as well). I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a coward; I’m terrified to palpate my left breast again. Given everything my mother went through, the fear is overwhelming. I'm 22, and I'm wondering if there's any chance all this could be psychosomatic? Is there a possibility this isn't cancer, but something else entirely?😢 I haven't been sleeping well at night, partly because of Mom, partly because of myself, and partly due to other issues. I honestly don't know how I would cope if I were facing a diagnosis myself. It feels surreal how everything has aligned this way. I am desperately hoping I'm wrong...

Is there any chance you bumped yourself or sustained some kind of minor injury? Something similar happened to me recently; my boyfriend gave me a hug that was perhaps a little too enthusiastic, and afterward, my breast (the left one, coincidentally) felt swollen and painful for about ten days. Things seemed fine, until a month later when the swelling and pain returned. I was just as terrified to see a doctor, especially since my mother passed away from ovarian cancer. Eventually, I managed to pull myself together and went in for a Doppler ultrasound. Everything turned out fine—just a tiny bit of swelling, not even a hematoma. I haven't had any issues since then.
Go get checked out just for your own peace of mind. You need to stay strong for your mom; she needs you right now.
I don't have any firsthand experience with breast cancer, so unfortunately, I can't offer much specific guidance here.

Sarah Johnson11 said:It’s me again. I think you might have already known this, but I have a question for you—and anyone else here who has dealt with this specific type of carcinoma.
She was discharged from the hospital today, so I can type out the diagnosis directly from her discharge papers.

PHD - Cystadenocarcinoma papillary serous ovary 1.dex.
Thromboembolism
Duodenal bulb ulceration - no further bleeding.

Did your mother have this exact type of carcinoma, or does anyone else here? From what I understand, it’s ovarian papillary carcinoma.
As of now, the abdomen and its organs look okay—no metastases found there.
However, the lung scan shows a lymph node and a shadow that suggests the possibility of metastasis.
She’s been sent home for a brief recovery period, after which she’ll see an oncologist to determine her chemotherapy regimen.

Her general condition is quite poor; she barely communicates, eats very little, and just wants solitude and peace, which we are respecting.
I can't really look after her right now because, unfortunately, I am also struggling with some very grim test results and my own health issues. I’ve been battling chronic lymphocytic leukemia for years now, and these past few days, I feel like I’m back at square one. But I know I’ll pull through; I’m mentally resilient, and more importantly, I’m driven by a deep sense of optimism. She, on the other hand... I don't think it's the right time to say anything to her regarding the prognosis; she doesn't want to discuss it, so we’re stepping back.🤷 Perhaps eventually, she will be ready to accept it herself.
I worry about her constantly. It breaks my heart, and it’s incredibly difficult to watch when I wish I could just give her a shred of my own energy and will to live. If I could, I’d be much happier. I am right there beside her, but I feel powerless. I’m present, but most of the heavy lifting is being done by others; I’m essentially just a support system and an observer at this point. I don't know how to talk to her or what to say to spark even a tiny desire to engage, because I believe it’s easier when all the sadness and pain are allowed to surface through tears—at least, that's my theory, though I could be wrong.
Thank you for the support and the advice.

The diagnosis wasn't identical. I don't remember the exact specifics (I'll check the files when I get home from work, I still have them saved), but I know it was ovarian adenocarcinoma with abdominal metastases, Stage IIIc. From what I can tell, your mother-in-law is actually in an earlier stage since there aren't any metastases in the abdomen.
I am so sorry that you are fighting this awful disease as well.
Try to find ways to give your mother-in-law some motivation to keep fighting. Mention her son; if you have children or grandchildren, tell her how much you all love her and need her in your lives. You could also share stories of people who fight cancer and win (like our friend Kimberly Wright on the forum, who fought ovarian cancer for 13 years).
It’s completely normal for her to be terrified. When my mother was first diagnosed, she kept crying that she’d never see the ocean again, so I told her to stop talking nonsense and that we’d go together next year—and we did. She has to go through this phase of confrontation before she can snap out of it. I don't know what her usual temperament is, but I believe everyone has an innate will to live. In this moment, I think you should encourage her to stay close to the family rather than isolating herself; isolation only leads to darker thoughts.
I thought it would be the same for my mother, since my father passed away less than a year before her diagnosis, and I feared she would just give up and follow him. But she didn't let go; she wouldn't leave me alone.
I suggest you join the American Cancer Society forums.http://forum.cancer.org/index.php. They have carcinomas categorized by type, and the site offers a wealth of advice from users. We also have access to oncologists there who are always willing to help.

Sarah Johnson11 said:Thank you so much for such an exhaustive response. We actually took some of your advice to heart today and started getting things ready, so hopefully everything is set when the time comes.
She’s currently in the ICU and received a blood transfusion because she lost quite a bit due to an ulceration. She’s on an IV right now, and the doctor is optimistic that her condition regarding that specific issue should start stabilizing over the next few days.
Now, considering she was on a certain type of heparin therapy, I can't help but wonder if that might have played a role in causing the perforation, though there are so many moving parts involved that I honestly can't say for sure.
Everything just took such a turn for the worse. First, it was post-op thromboembolism, and now this perforation... it’s just one thing after another. Honestly, I’m at a loss as to how she’ll recover enough to even face chemotherapy. That uncertainty is what makes this diagnosis feel even more overwhelming.
She has always been incredibly brave and resilient, but lately, I get the sense that she's losing her mental footing, and I worry that kind of psychological exhaustion might only speed up this whole grim process.
I don't even know what to say anymore; I'm just completely overwhelmed.
Thanks again. Once she’s a bit more stable—if she manages to pull through, given how dire things look right now—I’ll reach out if I need anything.

And thank you from the bottom of my heart for your patience, for being willing to clarify things,
and for all the support.😢😘

Once the initial shock wears off, she’ll find her footing again mentally. My own mother went through phases where she’d claim she was done fighting, but I used to tell her she had to keep going for my sake—that I loved her and needed her—and that gave her the strength to push forward.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she pulls through, and please know I'm here if you need any help.😘

Sarah Johnson11 said:First off, I am incredibly sorry to hear about your mother. Life can be brutally unfair sometimes, and illness is an unrelenting force, but please know that she will always hold a permanent place in your heart and your thoughts.

I really appreciate all the advice everyone has shared here. It feels like we’ve all hit a wall lately. Just fifteen days ago, she was perfectly healthy—no diagnoses, no issues, nothing. But things took a turn for the worse this morning; there was blood in her stool, which prompted the doctors to run some immediate tests. She has since been moved to the ICU following a diagnosis of duodenal ulcer perforation.
I honestly can't wrap my head around how all of this is playing out, especially given the absolute mess things are in right now.
It’s hard to say when she’ll be able to handle chemotherapy sessions again, given how much her condition has deteriorated. To put it bluntly, things look pretty grim right now. She’s incredibly pale and lacks the strength to even hold a basic conversation. At this stage, we’re feeling pretty helpless; we don't have many options to offer any real support until her current state is stabilized.
I have to be realistic here: the tumor on the right ovary has already spread to the uterus and the intestines. It was actually in a state of necrosis, which means we are dealing with an advanced stage of the disease. Given how far things have progressed, I find myself questioning just how much impact chemotherapy will actually have once she starts treatment. The doctors are being incredibly noncommittal about her prognosis. To be honest, none of them will give us a straight answer or even a hint of what to expect. They’re essentially staying silent, which, in my opinion, speaks volumes—it’s their way of not having to deliver the bad news we already know is coming. It’s hard to pin down exactly how dire the situation is when they refuse to say anything at all. She hasn't been told the results of the histopathology report yet. She doesn't officially know that it's carcinoma or that chemo is the next step on the horizon. But if you ask me, she already knows. You can see it in her eyes—she’s terrified, gripped by panic, and clearly struggling to hold back the tears.
How did your mother handle her chemotherapy sessions?
Has anyone here actually had any success using anti-nausea medications? I'm curious to hear about your experiences.
How long was she sick for, and how much did she struggle toward the end? Also, did the cancer spread to the abdominal cavity, or had it moved further?
What exactly are we looking at here? What does the future actually hold for us?
I had intended to dive deep into a whole host of questions, but honestly, everything has just become a tangled mess at this point. My brain is completely scrambled, and I simply can't seem to get my thoughts in order.
I appreciate your understanding on this matter.😢😢

My mother handled her initial rounds of chemotherapy relatively well. She dealt with some nausea, bouts of diarrhea, and the inevitable hair loss, along with some tingling sensations in her feet. To manage the nausea, she relied on Reglan, though sometimes the simplest things worked best—plain microwave popcorn and menthol hard candies actually provided some relief. She mostly just ate and drank whatever her body felt up to at the moment. People often suggest that Coca-Cola can help settle the stomach, though I know it’s certainly not something doctors would officially recommend for patients in her position.
After three rounds of chemotherapy—following some sort of newer protocol—there was absolutely no progress. They eventually switched her over to an older treatment, I believe it was Taxol, and that actually worked; her markers dropped, she underwent two surgeries, and things seemed fine for a while. Then, a few months later, the recurrence hit. She started oral chemotherapy, but it didn't do much of anything. A third surgery, where they essentially had to remove half of her intestines, finally took its toll. By then, the cancer had metastasized throughout the abdominal cavity—to the liver, the stomach, pretty much everywhere—and there just wasn't any help left to give. On top of all that, she developed a nasty hospital-acquired infection, and her body simply lacked the strength to fight it off. The whole ordeal lasted about a year and ten months. The cancer was caught at Stage IIIc, which is already quite advanced, but she fought it until the very end. Honestly, there were moments when I didn't think she’d make it; my father passed away from a heart attack just a year before her diagnosis. They were incredibly close, and I couldn't help but feel like she was just going to follow him.
Doctors rarely give you a straight answer when it comes to a prognosis. I remember asking Dr. Ćorušić—who performed my mother’s surgery over at the Mayo Clinic—exactly how much time she had left. He said something to me that I’ll honestly never forget: "I am neither God nor a fortune teller; at this point, it all depends on how your mother fights."
Generally speaking, you're looking at quite a battle ahead. It’s going to require a lot of steady support, and one of the most important things you can do is focus on keeping her immune system as strong as possible—I’d suggest looking into an immune-boosting supplement, beta-glucans, or perhaps some high-quality propolis. As for stabilizing her blood counts, a homemade juice made from beets, carrots, and apples can actually work wonders. I would also advise staying away from red meat, refined sugar, and white flour; there's a prevailing school of thought that cancer essentially feeds on those things.
There’s an excellent book by David Servan-Schreiber called *Anticancer*. It’s essentially a comprehensive guide for anyone looking to navigate cancer or focus on prevention through lifestyle changes. It covers everything from dietary adjustments to understanding the biology of the disease itself, and even touches on the psychological aspects of dealing with it.

I truly understand what you're going through; I've been in those exact shoes myself. Please, don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything at all. I'll help however I can and share whatever knowledge I have.
Hang in there.🙂

Sarah Johnson11 said:I’m new to this thread. In a way, I belong to this group myself since I suffer from chronic lymphocytic leukemia, but I’m reaching out for a different reason.
I first encountered this kind of devastating illness when my father was battling lung cancer—and unfortunately, he lost that fight.
Two weeks ago, my mother-in-law underwent surgery for a tumor on her right ovary, and the pathology report confirmed it was indeed carcinoma. It’s worth noting that the tumor had spread to involve the uterus and part of her intestine, which made the actual surgery quite complicated due to the need for separation; they had to call in a specialist surgeon to handle it, which was successful.
Five days later, she developed a thromboembolism and was moved to the internal medicine ward. She should be discharged tomorrow if her D-dimer levels drop sufficiently.
Now, I’m wondering if any of you have experience with this specific type of carcinoma and what the outlook might be—though I know how difficult it is to discuss prognoses—and more importantly, how a patient dealing with thromboembolism can manage chemotherapy. Right now, she feels absolutely terrible and is in no state to start chemo, but I’m also looking for suggestions on what might help speed up post-operative recovery, even just a little.
She is struggling mentally, and honestly, so are we all. We’re doing our best to act strong and pretend everything will be fine, though truth be told, I’m only holding onto hope by a very slim margin.
Please, if you could share anything, it would help us organize ourselves and figure out how to support her as best we can.
I’m feeling quite overwhelmed and unfocused right now; I may have missed something important, but if I remember it, I’ll post it.😢😢😢

My mother had ovarian cancer, and sadly, she didn't make it.
It’s ungrateful to talk about prognoses because everyone’s journey is unique. To give you a concrete example, my mother was given six months, but she lived for two years. She completed six cycles of chemotherapy followed by another six rounds of oral chemo. To bolster her immunity and aid recovery, she used Biobran, raw propolis, and royal jelly, but nowadays you can find an immune-boosting supplement that claims to specifically target ovarian cancer.
As for thromboembolism, I don't know anything about it; we never had to deal with that.
The most vital thing is to keep her spirits up, ensure she feels your support, and help her find some form of distraction.
Up until her final days, my mother was still traveling, going to the theater, and attending concerts; she refused to let it break her.
I realize you probably have a thousand questions, so fire away.

Kimberly Wright said:thanks 🙂
I’ll have to see about posting more... it really depends on whether inspiration strikes.
Even though I registered on the forum right away, I have to admit I’ve been procrastinating on actually stepping into that 'ghetto.'😁

So, here’s my question: what’s the best way to handle caregiver leave for a sick family member?
Even my own GP isn't entirely sure how many days of leave I'm entitled to to care for my mom. Right now, I'm staying with her while she recovers from surgery.
But how am I supposed to manage leave later once she starts chemotherapy?

Is there any advice on this over at Zanovidan?

Exactly! 👍

In my case, I was only able to get four days for my mom, and that was that. I don't know if policies vary by company, but realistically, you should probably expect about a week.

Absolutely devastating.

A little more on the latest cancer research developments

Susan Diaz91 said:She passed away... in her sleep... 🙂
I honestly can't find the right words to express this level of grief. It feels like my heart might actually break. 🙂
...this kind of pain is just overwhelming.

Please accept my deepest, most sincere condolences.