Melissa Kim45 said:Sending my best to all the regulars and newcomers alike—you have my full 🙂 support.
We’re still in the thick of it here. It hasn’t been easy, especially since Mom can barely walk these days, but we aren't backing down. Things feel a bit uncertain right now, though I suppose uncertainty is the least of our worries. I’ll provide a more detailed update once I’ve managed to gather some strength.
Hang in there, everyone. 👍
I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you find enough blood donors. I happen to be O+, and I know firsthand how much of a struggle that can be.
Unfortunately, only those with negative factors can help out. I actually sent an email to my company (we're at a major telecom provider), and a few people with O- reached out. Of course, they always prioritize matching the primary group first. I’m B-, and I went in to donate yesterday. Is there anything more noble than donating blood for your mother or anyone else in need? I’m a regular donor anyway; this time, however, it's deeply personal.🙄
Nathan Bailey said:I’m O-negative. I'll help out if needed.
Thank you so much. If you happen to be a donor and have an insurance card, please head over to the local Blood Center on 3rd Avenue. Just let them know at the desk that this is for Zdenka Košćec's surgery, which has already been coordinated with the Mayo Clinic. If you don't have an insurance card, you'll need to go to the Mayo Clinic tomorrow morning around 7:30 AM to see Dr. Plenković in the transfusion department. She will draw your blood and determine your type right then and there. You should mention again that it's for my mother's operation (as mentioned above). Once you have the confirmation, you can head to the Blood Center to donate. The surgery is scheduled for a week from today. I can't thank you enough.🙏
Nancy Hernandez43 said:Unfortunately, I’m an A-negative, so my blood type won't be much help here. That said, I really hope enough people have stepped up to donate and that everything goes smoothly with the surgery. I'll be thinking of you all—stay strong.
My brother managed to track down a few more donors with the matching blood type, so I’m hopeful we’ll have more than enough now. I really appreciate everyone stepping up to help. Thank you for the support.🙂We press on.🙂
Dear Angela Wright, Unfortunately, they're only looking for B- or O- blood types right now. I actually just stopped by Petrov before heading into work to see if I could donate.
My mother is preparing for a major surgery to treat ovarian cancer, and she’s going to need a significant blood transfusion—at least 5 liters. Since she has the rare B- negative blood type, finding enough supply is proving to be quite a challenge. My brother and I are both stepping up to donate since we share her blood type, but naturally, that won't be nearly enough to cover her needs. If anyone happens to have B- or O- blood and is willing to help, I would be incredibly grateful if you could reach out. You can contact 555-0199 Jane.🙏 Thank you.
Reading an article in the paper today about a woman who jumped from the 6th floor in Times Square, I can't help but dwell on the sheer absurdity of human nature. On one hand, you have people fighting tooth and nail just to stay alive, while others decide to simply take it away from themselves. Those of us dealing with relentless illnesses—people close to us included—spend our days praying for just one more sunrise, celebrating every decent lab result and mourning the bad ones. Then there are those who look at the struggle and just say, "Forget this, I'm out." It feels incredibly selfish. What kind of unbearable weight must someone be carrying to make such a choice? My father passed away back in July 2005, and my mother was diagnosed with cancer in June 2006. We hadn't even begun to process losing him when her diagnosis hit, and I honestly thought she might just give up and follow him (they were inseparable), but she hasn't. She’s been fighting for nearly two years now, and I truly hope she keeps going, and that we pull through this together. Sometimes I wonder if my father’s passing served some grim purpose; the cancer had clearly been brewing for years, perhaps triggered by the intense stress of his death. Who knows if it would have all gone undetected until it was far too late?🤷Forgive my rambling; this is the only place where I feel I can truly express myself, among those of you who, unfortunately, understand this better than anyone else.
Angela Wright said:Grace Fowler You’re doing an incredibly good job fighting this. I’m sure she’ll reach out to you on her own. Have you checked the non-profit’s website yet? They have an entire section dedicated specifically to ovarian cancer.
I haven't had a chance to browse the site yet, but I'll take a look now. To be honest, I always find myself dreading what I might encounter when reading those kinds of things. Having this specific thread to turn to has already helped settle my nerves a bit.
Grace Fowler said:Hello there!!!! First off, I want to extend my greetings; we are all here on this thread to offer whatever advice and support we can. In any life situation, I’ve stopped using—and frankly, I refuse to use—phrases like "finally" or similar sentiments when things are actually serious. Regarding your mother's condition, yes, it is grave, so let's skip the "at last" part, alright? Personally, I've been handed some pretty dismal prognoses more than once, yet here I am... :-)) Please, let me know which specific chemo lines she has already completed. For any other details, just shoot me an email or a private message. Stay strong; cancer isn't just a disease affecting one patient—from the moment of diagnosis, the entire family is pulled into it. It is absolutely vital that you try to push through the fear and the grief. I'm sending plenty of positive energy your way and I'm available for any information or help you might need. Grace
Mom was on Taxol for chemotherapy and received Vepesid as her cytostatic treatment. Then, as if we needed one more thing to worry about right before surgery, she developed a fever of 101°F last night. Your response really touched me this morning, and I feel a little lighter for it.
I’ve been lurking on this forum for a while now, watching the discussions, and I finally decided it was time to step up and join the conversation. My mother is currently battling ovarian cancer, which was diagnosed two years ago at an advanced stage and has since spread to the peritoneum. She has already endured two surgeries, nine rounds of chemotherapy, and six doses of cytostatic drugs. Things seemed to stabilize for a period, but she recently developed ascites in her abdomen. We’ve been working with specialists at the Mayo Clinic, and she’s scheduled to be admitted this Monday, followed by a HIPEC procedure the following week—apparently, that surgery is a marathon that takes all day. Another doctor we consulted mentioned that based on the CT scan, the tumor appears operable, though he noted that once they actually open her up, the reality might change. It’s a lot to carry right now; my father passed away from a heart attack three years ago, so facing the possibility of losing my mother feels incredibly heavy. Does anyone here have experience dealing with this specific type of cancer?