The oncologist sent him in for a CT scan and some blood work. I didn't actually catch what she wrote in the report because he wouldn't let me read it. Yesterday, my mother-in-law mentioned that he went to see the specialist with his referrals, and apparently, they told him that mass is a metastasis. They said the chemo didn't do its job, and now we’re waiting on the CT results to figure out how far it has spread and just how much time we actually have left. He did get prescribed some patches for the pain, though, since that mass is causing him quite a bit of discomfort. Do you think radiation might offer any relief at this stage, assuming chemo isn't really an option anymore? I'm worried he might be too weak for surgery as well, leaving us with nothing but palliative care. What else can we do to make things easier for him?
Angela Wright said:Hmm, what if it's just ascites and it's starting to spread to the pleura? An ultrasound should show that pretty clearly. Did they end up doing the ultrasound at the end?
No, they've put chemo on hold until we can get a follow-up appointment with the oncologist. That's happening today, so we'll know our next move after that.
Svekar started his sixth and final round of chemo today. I told him that he needs to insist on two things: first, that his oncologist actually sees him personally, and second, that they run an abdominal ultrasound, a chest X-ray, or even a CT scan (the doctor mentioned at the last session that this was becoming necessary). The mass on his abdomen is growing; it’s spreading toward his ribs and causing significant pain. He also mentioned a tightening sensation in his throat and occasional shortness of breath, especially when he tries to walk up the stairs. I’m genuinely worried that everything might have spread to his lungs and the rest of his esophagus, and that he could end up suffocating—that it's all just slowly reaching its end. If he won't take any action, I'll force him to go to a private clinic. He actually went to one last week, but the only private specialist available in Small Town, USA, ended up being part of the public system anyway.
I need to call him today to see if he's actually managed to get anything sorted out.
Elizabeth Fisher13 said:My mother-in-law's condition is shifting rapidly. She’s struggling to walk—only really moving when absolutely necessary—and she keeps losing her balance. Her sense of time and awareness of her surroundings is slipping away too. She’s complaining about all sorts of pains, ranging from headaches to stomach aches and leg pain... She’s currently on Dexamethasone (4x8 tablets), Trodon for the pain (3x1), Controloc for her stomach, Xanax (3x1.5), and Analgin as needed. Her mental state is also declining, swinging wildly from weeping to euphoria. Over the last two days, she started having incontinence issues, so we’ve had to start using diapers. Her vision has weakened significantly as well. There's no control over her appetite either; one minute she claims she isn't hungry, and thirty minutes later, she's asking for food. Her short-term memory is gone; she can still recall things from a long time ago, but forgets what happened half an hour prior. She's scheduled for her 11th round of chemo on July 7th. I honestly don't know if there's any point in continuing, but we just keep hoping that each session buys us another month. Her current state is quite similar to how she was before the surgery—in some ways, even worse—and she's still relying on the Dexamethasone. I dread to think what she would be like without it. The oncologist wants to finish the 12th cycle before ordering a PET Scan. I’m terrified we won't even make it to the scan, given how fast these negative developments are occurring. Best wishes to everyone; hang in there.
Hang in there.🙂 It seems like everyone is hitting a rough patch lately. I can't help but wonder: if the chemo isn't working for my father-in-law (he has a mass in his abdomen that is a growing metastasis), does it even make sense to put him through this sixth cycle just to follow it up with a PET Scan?
Angela Wright said:Zachary Howard2, maybe it really is just a kilo. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves; let's just wait until the doctor mentions anything about his abdomen before the final cycle. They can run an abdominal Ultrasound at the outpatient clinic to see what's actually going on.
Yesterday, my mother-in-law mentioned that my father-in-law has been feeling weak, dealing with nausea, and has been coughing quite heavily—really hacking up phlegm. I convinced her that they should head to a private clinic today for an Ultrasound to check out that growing lump. Anything that grows isn't exactly a good sign. I'm hoping she doesn't back out today. If she does, I'll just take him myself this Friday. He's refusing to go to the ER.
On the other hand, I find myself worrying about it, yet I'm trying so hard not to subject myself to all that stress for the sake of the baby—even though, thank God, the little one is doing great and is very active.
Yesterday, my father-in-law mentioned that the lump on his abdomen—he doesn't realize it's actually a metastasis—is growing. It’s already reached the size of a bar of soap, whereas before it was about the size of a ping-pong ball. Does this mean the chemo isn't working and the cancer is spreading? He thinks it might be his brother, who also has a mass positioned a bit higher up and needs surgery, but I'm genuinely worried he's far too frail for any kind of operation. His last round of chemo is scheduled for June 30th, followed by a check-up with the doctor on July 2nd. I'm torn on whether we should just wait until then or if we need to act sooner. I'll be heading into their office this Thursday.
Angela Wright said:It could be the prostate, it could be kidney-related, or perhaps a bladder infection... considering how poor his CBC was, I wouldn't be surprised if it's an infection. Cancer really does wreck the immune system, and for older patients, bladder infections aren't exactly uncommon. Has he had any other testing done yet? At least an abdominal ultrasound or a urine culture?
I just noticed he was prescribed Ciprofloxacin, which is used to treat urinary tract and kidney infections. Hopefully, that's just an infection. He isn't passing blood anymore; his urine looks clear now. They ran some blood work, and his CBC was quite poor, along with low blood pressure at 90/60. The doctors told him that everything else needs to be handled by his oncologist.
My father-in-law showed up with blood in his urine today. Because of that—combined with some low blood pressure and poor blood work—he ended up skipping his treatment session today. His doctor mentioned it could either be a side effect of the therapy or related to the tumor itself. I’m honestly terrified it’s the latter, and that things might have spread to the bladder or somewhere similar. What should our next move be? Should we rush him back to the doctor immediately? Does anyone have insight into what else might be causing this bleeding?
Angela Wright said:Oops, if I were in their shoes, I’d be demanding a chest X-ray and an abdominal ultrasound immediately. That shortness of breath really makes me worry about fluid buildup in the abdomen or the pleura. It needs to be checked out right away so they can get him started on some Lasix.
Of course, the doctor won't just take my word for it. He starts his fifth round of chemo tomorrow, so I told him he absolutely needs to mention this during the pre-chemo exam. We aren't heading to their clinic until the weekend, and honestly, you can't do much when you're just calling from a distance. My mother-in-law is back at it again, pushing for some Noni juice, but I'm genuinely concerned it might hit his liver hard and end up doing more harm than good. I told her not to buy anything until I've had a chance to look into it properly.
The fourth round of chemo really knocked my father-in-law sideways. He says he’s feeling incredibly lethargic lately. He’s also complaining about this discomfort near the surgical site from his operation—apparently, whenever he tightens his belt, he has trouble breathing, which wasn't an issue before. On top of that, there’s this pain in his abdomen, though he hasn't quite realized yet that it's actually a metastasis. If there is one silver lining, it's that he isn't losing weight; he's maintaining it and eating normally. The whole breathing situation has me worried; I can't help but fear it might have spread to his lungs. He’s also still dealing with a persistent Cough and phlegm, and even he admits that something isn't right. I try to play the calming role, suggesting it might just be the side effects of the chemotherapy—and honestly, the fatigue and weakness are definitely part of it—but deep down, I’m terrified it’s something more serious. He starts his fifth round this Tuesday, followed by a check-up with his doctor. Once he finishes the sixth round, they’ll finally schedule a PET Scan to get a clear picture of where things stand. This month marks exactly one year since the diagnosis. I am holding onto the hope that he lives long enough to see his grandchildren arrive—his daughter-in-law is due in two months, and I’m expecting mine in December—and that he gets to enjoy them, even if just for a little while.
My father-in-law wrapped up his fourth round of chemo yesterday. We still have two more rounds left before we run a PET Scan to see if any actual progress has been made. I can't help but wonder—since he isn't experiencing any side effects at all—if the treatment is even doing anything, or if perhaps those beta glucans are just helping him weather the storm more easily. I always find myself hoping for the best.
We’ve started him on some Dulcolax suppositories; he did a little bit of work earlier, so hopefully, that provides some relief. I’m going to have to track down his doctor to get him a referral to a nutritionist for a strict meal plan, because if we keep this up, we're going to have a serious problem... we try to come up with something sensible, but he just refuses everything we suggest.
Svekar is heading into his third round of chemo. He’s been looking a bit frail lately, so they started him on Forticare; honestly, it’s doing more good than harm since it seems to help manage the diarrhea he's been dealing with. He’s actually handling the chemo itself quite well—the only real issue is that he can't seem to keep things regular. Does anyone happen to know of anything effective for getting his digestion back on track? I’m getting a little worried about how thin he’s becoming. He’s managed to drop another 4kg, even though he’s eating.
Amanda Wells75 said:Zachary Howard2, you’ve truly made my day with the news about the baby on the way. I am genuinely thrilled for you. I imagine it feels just as heavy for you after all these years, and that you miss your parents just as much as the very first day they left you. I miss my own Mom, and even now, I still can't quite wrap my head around the fact that she’s gone. I often find myself reaching for the phone just to call her, just to check in. Lately, life has been throwing some incredibly difficult things my way. Over Easter, a colleague of mine passed away—she was born in '70—after a month-long battle with systemic Lupus. It absolutely ravaged her. She spent her final days in intense pain with kidney failure and ascites building up in her abdomen. It was painfully similar to my Mom's final days. A woman who was working and running around just yesterday, rushing through hallways to get everything done, is simply gone. On top of that, I recently learned that a cousin of my Mom's has uterine cancer and is awaiting surgery. I suppose it all hits harder because my own wounds are still so fresh. Zachary Howard2, I’m so glad to hear your father-in-law is doing okay. I really hope he manages to pull through this round of chemo as well, so he can be there with you all to see the babies arrive. I can just picture you taking photos with him alongside the kids' birthday cakes.
🙂 That's just how life goes, I guess. Just yesterday, a friend was telling me that her husband had testicular cancer five years ago at an early stage; they removed a testis, and everything seemed fine until a few weeks ago when his markers came back high during a routine checkup. He went through all the tests, but nothing showed up initially, only for changes to finally be detected in the other testis via ultrasound. Now he has to undergo chemo. The worst part is that they’ve been trying to have a child, and it felt surreal talking to them about my pregnancy when they might not even be able to have children at all.
On a different note, my father-in-law is handling this second round of chemo quite well. His blood work looked great, so I’m hoping all the treatments we're throwing at him are actually doing the job.
Angela Wright said:Zachary Howard2, you really made my day.🙂 I'm crossing my fingers that everything goes perfectly, especially this first trimester. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me. 😉 Take care.
🙂 Thanks, dear... I'm just praying I can bring this little one into the world safe and sound. 🙂
Svekar starts his second round of chemo this Tuesday. I’m really hoping he handles it just as well as the first one—but more than anything, I just hope it actually does its job. I need to give him a call today to check on his blood work results.
Amanda Wells75 said:My dear online friends. My mother passed away just over two weeks ago. Life has dealt me a massive blow. The grief, the pain, the emptiness... they are indescribably overwhelming. People tell me that time heals all wounds, but if I’m being honest, I’d phrase it differently: with time, you simply learn how to live with that pain, and the sense of loss and emptiness will always be there. On one hand, I feel hollow, as if half of me died along with her, but on the other, I have a certain peace of mind. I know I did everything within my power to help her fight an enemy that was ultimately just too strong. We tried everything—from expensive alternative therapies to standard medical treatments. In those final days, I gave whatever I could to try and help, and she knew that. Because of that, I can find some solace...
I know exactly how you feel; I went through all of this myself. It does get a little easier as the years pass, but it still hurts, especially when the holidays roll around. I was at the cemetery yesterday, and even though it’s been seven years since my mom passed and ten since my dad, I still broke down. It also hurts knowing my parents won't be around to meet my child (I'm five weeks pregnant), though I'm hoping my father-in-law lives long enough to see his first grandchild (my sister-in-law is also four months pregnant). Hang in there, and try to focus only on the beautiful memories... eventually, the rest will fade.
quietviper18 said:That feeling when your test results look fantastic after four years, and you actually start hoping they might scale back your treatment. And then—bam—someone decides to play games and you’re hit with a fresh shock. I ended up hospitalized with meningitis, which cost me my sight for a while (thank God it's back now). There is nothing quite like being twenty years old and lying helpless in a hospital bed, completely dependent on someone else. Things are better now, though I still struggle with balance, dizziness, and some minor issues with my vision. But I’m not throwing in the towel; things are moving in the right direction. 😁 Looking at people my own age... I had a brief window where I got to experience what a "normal" life outside a hospital looks like. It’s hard to explain. I wake up, open my eyes, and realize I haven't lost my vision yet; I get up, and I realize I can actually walk. The pain becomes secondary. Most people my age seem focused on getting drunk; I suppose that’s just part of being young. For me, I just want to find someone who understands what it means to live with a chronic illness—someone whose goal isn't just a night out, but simply seeing the world. I honestly wonder if I’ll ever find someone to respect and love, and who will love me in return, so we can actually take care of one another when things go south. Someone to share both the highs and the lows with. It feels like nowadays, everything is superficial—life is great as long as you're healthy. But the moment you need someone to make you a cup of tea, squeeze a lemon, or just hand you a tissue, everything falls apart, let alone something much more serious. For us, every single day is a battle just to claim our place in the world. I just wish I didn't have to fight it alone.
Try to keep looking forward. I have a colleague with multiple sclerosis who deals with vision and balance issues, yet he managed to find a woman who loves him, and they just had a baby. I truly hope you get to see your wishes fulfilled.
Kate Diaz55 said:I haven't tried that tea myself, though I've heard people talk about it; honestly, I have no clue what the actual nutritional value is. For now, I’ve been doing half a lemon and a teaspoon of Sodium Bicarbonate every morning and evening. I struggle with digestion, and they told me this routine basically flushes everything out from top to bottom—hopefully keeping things clear. We'll just have to see. I’m giving my father-in-law whatever he can handle; I doubt it'll hurt him, and who knows, maybe it might actually help. I highly recommend Megestrol, but as for the rest, just go with your gut. Good luck, and like Ivanna says, try to stay positive—which, let's be honest, isn't always easy.
Check out this link:
I’m always holding out hope for a miracle... I know how this story usually goes. I went through all of this with my Mom (she passed away from ovarian cancer). Even though my father-in-law is in the terminal stage, anything is possible.
Svekar is eating normally—he can handle just about anything right now—and honestly, I’m thrilled about that, especially considering how massive his surgery was and the fact that he's even able to eat at all. However, I was reading some things online about how certain foods can put extra strain on the liver, and I'm getting a little nervous that I might inadvertently cause him harm. Carl Brooks4, have you by any chance experimented with dandelion root tea? It’s pretty bitter, I know, but I’ve come across some interesting claims suggesting it might help inhibit further cancer cell proliferation and assist in detoxifying the system...