Posts by stormyowl2

Kimberly Sanders4 said:Hey everyone...
So sorry if this topic has already been covered—I couldn't find anything similar while searching. If there is an existing thread, please drop the link... thanks in advance! I’d throw a happy waving emoji your way right now if I could, but honestly, I just don't feel very cheerful 😢

Basically, my sister was diagnosed with diabetes when she was 20. It could have been stress, college, losing our parents... honestly, I'm not even going to list them all. Anyway, she's amazing, finishing up her degree soon, worked so hard, but some people just can't catch a break 😢😢 She has Type 1 diabetes and takes insulin four times a day. Every year she's had an MRI on her pituitary gland and everything always looked fine, but this year they found a microadenoma—basically told her she has Cushing's syndrome. For the last two years, she's been putting on weight like crazy around her waist, even though her legs stay thin and small compared to her upper body. Her face is getting rounder, she looks swollen, and she misses her period for three or four months at a time. My sister doesn't live in Washington, D.C., she's in Boston, and the doctors there suggested surgery would be a good move. They want to do it transsphenoidally—through the nose. If the surgery works, it might fix the swelling, the weight gain, and her cycle—and maybe even help stabilize her blood sugar, because even with insulin, she's hovering around 15, which feels okay to her, but we all know 15 is way too high. She talked to a neurosurgeon in Boston, but since I'm based in Washington, D.C., I'd love to bring her to see a specialist here. Just looking for a consultation to see if surgery is an option in D.C. (willing to pay, obviously...). We'll ask around through friends and private doctors, but I really want to hear about your own experiences or what your relatives went through... Where, how, what, and most importantly, WHO? Feel free to DM me if you have info.

Ugh, I'm such a mess, I don't even know which way to turn 😕

Thanks again in advance....

I wish I could help more, but honestly, I'm pretty limited right now. This is all the info I have.
A friend's daughter has been dealing with Cushing's for five years now, and she has every single symptom you mentioned except for the diabetes. From what I understand, it's an overproduction of cortisol. She lives in Memphis but gets her treatment in Mexico City. So far, she's had two surgeries for the microadenoma through the nose, and both times it came back. Right now, on the recommendation of her doctors in Mexico City, she's supposed to head to Washington, D.C. for a Buck Knife procedure. I'd suggest looking into that and talking it over with your sister.
Good luck

Linda Hill29 said:Hey everyone, Happy Easter!
I’m dealing with a situation—well, it's actually my dad's situation. Most of you have probably been through this already, so I’m really hoping someone can point me in the right direction... Dad is going through chemo right now (after surgery for stomach carcinoma) and he's on 5-fluorouracil and cisplatin. It's hitting him hard. He's been dealing with constant nausea and vomiting for five days straight now—mostly just throwing up saliva at this point. We've tried Thorecan, Zofran, and Kytril, but honestly? Nothing is working. He can't eat a single thing, the mere thought of food makes him sick, and I have no idea how we're going to make it through this treatment cycle. It's even getting to the point where he feels nauseous just pulling up to the hospital or even thinking about the IV lines and infusions... I heard that marijuana can be really effective for nausea. Does anyone have experience with that? Specifically with tea—like, what kind of dosage works and how much does it actually help? I feel terrible even asking this, it's a bit embarrassing... but I really just need to know what you guys think.

Marijuana, huh? Yeah... When I was doing my own chemo, my godmother called me to tell me she read somewhere online that smoking weed basically neutralizes the nausea. It cracked me up—she said apparently you're supposed to smoke a cigarette about 20 minutes before the treatment starts. I could just picture myself telling the doctor, "Hold on a sec, let me finish this smoke first" 😂.
She didn't mention anything about tea made from the stuff, but she did mention hearing that ginger is amazing for stopping nausea. Like, really great for these kinds of issues. Apparently, it's even good to chew on some while you're actually getting the treatment. So, maybe give that a shot? Might actually work. Luckily, I didn't deal with those specific issues during my chemo, but even today, if I see someone on TV hooked up to an IV, my stomach turns... so I guess that's just a totally normal human reaction.

briskskipper71 said:hey everyone,
I’m hoping someone can help clear some things up for me. My aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer—I've offered all the help I can, but I don't want to push her too hard or ask questions she isn't ready to answer, you know? I want to respect her space. But man, I just need to understand what we're looking at here... She basically ignored every single warning sign until an open wound actually appeared on her breast. She went straight for an ultrasound and they caught it immediately. A biopsy confirmed it was cancer, and shortly after, they did a mastectomy and removed her lymph nodes. Based on the pathology report, she's been prescribed six rounds of chemo plus radiation. Right now, she's on some kind of therapy every third day. Even though she looks almost like she did before the surgery, I feel like this is incredibly serious. How do I support her without being overbearing? And how long do these chemo cycles usually last? Also, regarding the radiation—do they target the original site or the metastases? It feels way more dire than it looks on the surface... please tell me I'm overthinking this...

It doesn't necessarily mean the situation is a lost cause. A friend's mother was in a way worse spot than your aunt. Honestly, she let things get so bad that when we were near her, the smell was just... unbearable. Like, the tissue was literally decomposing. They had to remove the breast and everything down to the bone. Doctors could only say "God help us." She finished six rounds of chemo, going once every 21 days. The outcome? That was five years ago, and she’s alive and well today. Usually, they radiate the surgical area—as for metastases, if they were just in the lymph nodes that got removed, then you're probably looking at a much better prognosis.

Joshua Grant6 said:Hey, I'm actually looking for some info on this too.

Since I'm coming from Canada, give me a couple of days to look into it—I'll definitely track something down...

Sophia Williams10 said:good luck 🙂
thanks again
but I gotta go deal with this itching—the spots look exactly like some kind of weird rash...

Good luck to you too, seriously hoping those test results come back totally fine.

Sophia Williams10 said:thanks for getting back to me 🙂
are you officially in the clear?
was there actually anything visible on your skin where it was itching—like, any actual changes?
honestly, I've been super thin for years no matter how much I eat, but aside from those swollen lymph nodes and this recent itching, my health is actually great and my immune system is solid... which just makes this whole thing even more confusing....

I can't tell you if I'm totally cured or not. My doctor says I won't be considered "cleared" until I hit the 10-year mark without a relapse. So yeah, I'm stuck doing regular checkups every four months. Even though it's technically malignant, this disease has such a high "positive" rate that it's actually treated as something curable.
As for the skin stuff—yeah, I definitely had changes. It looked woody and incredibly dry... and whenever I tried to soothe it with some lotion, those spots would just turn bright red. Kind of like psoriasis.
The crazy part is that I felt totally fine the entire time, even up to this very moment—no issues at all, honestly feeling like a powerhouse. You might not deal with any of that, especially since your lymph node biopsy didn't show anything suspicious.
Besides the symptoms I mentioned before, my blood work was also a giveaway—elevated sedimentation levels, white blood cell counts, and high platelets.

Sophia Williams10 said:can you please write a bit more about this
basically, I've had some swollen lymph nodes in my neck for years, and lately, there's this one spot on my lower back that's itching like crazy

btw, I had the lymph nodes biopsied and they didn't show anything... so in the meantime, I just kind of lost the motivation to keep running back to the doctor

So, for me, this whole mess started back around 2003—it kicked off with this unbearable itching on my shins and my forearms above the wrist. It was so intense you literally couldn't stand it without scratching... and then, about a year and a half later, I noticed a lump under my armpit. I went to see my OBGYN because I was terrified it was something with my breasts. He checked them out and told me everything looked fine—just fatty tissue, most likely—and said not to mess with it unless it bothered me. The saddest part? He used an ultrasound and didn't see a thing. So, I just carried that lump around for another year and a half until it actually started hurting. I ended up going to a surgeon on my own, basically demanding they just cut the "fatty tissue" out. Well, once they actually opened me up, they saw it wasn't fat at all—it was five lymph nodes the size of chicken eggs. When I asked how anyone missed that earlier, the doc just said the axilla area is pretty spacious and it had tucked itself away perfectly. And seriously, if I put my arm down, you can't feel a thing; but the second I lift my arm, that lump pops right out. I finally had the surgery in March 2006. That itching had been hanging around the entire time, too... but after chemo, it finally stopped. With my illness, the symptoms are fever, night sweats, weight loss, and itching. They usually hit separately, though. Like, either I'm losing weight, or I'm itching, or I'm sweating... it's rarely all at once.

fadedmason said:Look, I feel like I owe you guys an explanation regarding that Pap smear... just to clear things up: In my total state of panic and just spinning my wheels, one doctor told me I might as well cross all the local OB-GYNs off my list and just drive to NYC to see someone privately—so that's what I did. Here’s the deal: back home, you have to wait months just to get an appointment with a gynecologist, so I went ahead and got checked out locally first. But then, by some stroke of luck, I managed to snag a private appointment in NYC just a day later.
So basically, the Pap here came back fine, but the one in NYC said it was bad.
And I'm sitting here wondering... how is that even possible?
P.S. I actually begged my local doctor to do an ultrasound, but she kept brushing me off saying it wasn't necessary because everything felt "normal" during the manual exam and there was no need (I mean, that made zero sense to me, but I just felt so helpless at the time)... so I stayed quiet about going to a specialist, only to have the private doctor find out I have PCOS, CIN 1, and all that.
When I was in NYC, I made sure to get the full battery of tests done.
Honestly, I just wanted to test the system—but mostly, I just wanted to help myself...

Anyway, whatever happens, demand a full abdominal ultrasound—don't let them just check the uterus and ovaries. Whether your ovaries are polycystic or not, they shouldn't be causing you constant pain 24/7.

fadedmason said:Look, I'm not actually an idiot, but my bad—I clearly didn't explain myself well. Most of you caught what I meant about the ovaries being in the groin area... but I actually meant my lymph nodes were swollen in the groin, and those lumps I was talking about were related to the ovaries... so please, just give me a break, I really don't feel great right now...

Glad I could make your day a little brighter 🤷😍

Those lumps you're feeling could totally be swollen lymph nodes in your abdomen. Seriously though, stop looking for medical advice on a forum and go get a DETAILED MRI

Look, all these theories are fine and dandy, but honestly? Don't believe a single word until you go in for some deep-dive testing. If you're dropping weight like crazy, the list of potential culprits is massive. It could be the thyroid—like a few people already mentioned—but it could also be something like Hodgkin's disease, which I’m actually dealing with right now. One of the big red flags there is rapid weight loss and swollen lymph nodes... and for some reason, doctors have a hell of a time pinning down the actual diagnosis. They totally led me on a wild goose chase for three years—all because my only symptom was this weird itching on my arms and legs. I just dealt with it until these nasty lumps popped up under my armpit. And then the doctor had the nerve to tell me it was just fatty tissue. It wasn't until about a year and a half later that things started hurting—turns out the lymph nodes had filled up the armpit area so much they were actually pressing on my nerves.
At the end of the day, we all have our own stories, good or bad, but seriously—get those detailed tests done. And believe me, maybe it's just my own paranoia talking, but whenever this happens to someone, I’m the first one telling them to go get a biopsy immediately... especially when I see how many people around me are fighting the exact same thing.

Karen Fox36 said:Hey there, my fellow fighters,
I was chatting today with a woman who’s been staying at the hospital with her mom, and she mentioned using wild cyclamen root. Apparently, there’s this old guy named Luke over in Mexico who provides these roots to be brewed as tea or used as compresses on the affected area on day 21. Just a heads up—this guy isn't some shady character looking for a payday like most others; he just asks for enough to cover the costs of gathering the roots. I’ll try to dig up some actual details over the next few days and let you guys know. Anyway, my mom is doing great. Honestly, I really think that medicine from Cetinje she’s been taking for four months is doing the trick. I see people talking here about blood sugar spikes from steroids... my mom’s sugar is sitting at 7, and that’s after she polished off a whole bowl of grapes last night...

So, I actually went to visit this Luke guy myself—he lives in Stalac, near Krusevac. And honestly? I wasn't exactly blown away. The guy is like 80 years old and won't admit to modern medicine even if his life depended on it. He thinks the whole "Dr." system is total garbage and believes he was sent straight from God to Earth or something. Everyone who's sick just sits around the same table, and he spends the whole time lecturing everyone about current politics in Mexico... there is zero privacy whatsoever (assuming anyone would actually want a private conversation, which clearly isn't happening there).
When you ask how much you owe him, they basically say nothing, but because you have some manners, you can't just walk away without giving him something, so you just toss him some cash. The root thing is for day 21, but first, they tell you to come back for the next batch, so some people end up visiting him six, seven, maybe eight times...
The absolute kicker, though, was when his daughter told me she had surgery for breast cancer. When I asked if she drinks his little root tea, she just goes, "Nope, I don't." I swear, I just stood there totally stunned. But hey, if anyone still wants to give it a shot, I'll do my best to track down a phone number for you.

gentlebear36 said:Basically, I'm talking about a book by Rudolf Breuss—he was this guy who believed you could tackle pretty much any illness just through fasting combined with some natural herbal teas.

If anyone here has actually tried this—either personally or through someone else—I’d love to hear your stories.

And look, if you don't know anything about it, please... just don't come in here being rude or condescending. Let's keep it civil.

Thanks.

If you want the real scoop on this therapy, you should check out Lepina. He actually used Breuss's fasting methods to get himself healthy, and he had a great experience with it. Just look him up on this forum—you can find his info right here, plus his blog if you want to do some digging...

Anonymous said:Is anyone actually using this stuff? If so, are you noticing any real difference?

Supposedly it covers a pretty wide range of needs...

thanks for the help

So, I stuck with Flavin 7 for about six months. I started with the syrup—I actually had to order it from Canada since that's where they make it. Honestly, the syrup is decent, though it has this weird, slightly rotten fruit taste... still drinkable, though. People usually take it during chemo to try and give their immune system a boost. The problem is, you go through those bottles incredibly fast and man, they are pricey. After my first bottle, I just switched over to Flavin 7 Plus. It’s basically the same thing but in pill form—capsules, specifically. From what I know, an 80-count pack goes for about 8000 Forint, which is roughly $30. It’s got a broad spectrum of uses, and even healthy people are encouraged to take it, mostly because Flavin is such a powerhouse antioxidant.

shadowheron4 said:You’re going to live long enough to see your son graduate, get married, and all that good stuff... Seriously, you have to stay positive—trust me, it makes a massive difference. When I first got sick, my daughter was only three years old, and honestly, the thought of dying never even crossed my mind. Nope. I’m already planning out how I'm going to babysit my grandkids. And look, let me tell you—not everyone gets absolutely wrecked by the side effects after chemo. For me, yeah, I couldn't eat and felt like garbage for about ten days after each round, but then I’d somehow manage to get back into "fighting shape" before the next one. I met this lady at the University Hospital who’s become a dear friend of mine—she went through 30 rounds of chemo, and she wasn't even bedridden after any of them. She handled it like she was just taking an antibiotic or something, rather than actual poison. On top of that, she had breast, bone, and liver cancer, and doctors had basically written her off four years ago... now? She’s just left with a tiny little scar on her liver. So, don't give up. You’re going to get through this chemo just fine, and you'll be right there watching your son walk across that stage at graduation without a worry in the world. Fingers crossed for you—sending nothing but the best vibes!👍

Nice work.

That’s exactly how it should be. When I first got sick, my son was only 8—and honestly, I still plan on holding my grandkids in my arms one day. I went through 8 rounds of chemo, and I actually took sick leave for the first 4... but even then, I felt pretty good. Just some nausea and that nasty taste in my mouth, but nothing I couldn't handle. For the next 4 rounds? I was literally powering through on pure grit. Therapy on Friday, trying to recover on Saturday and Sunday, and then right back to work on Monday. A year has passed since then, and here I am—working and functioning like a totally normal human being...
Honestly, I feel like it says a lot about who you really are... Most people, once they find out what kind of illness they're actually dealing with, just head straight home and lie down to die.
Giving up is the absolute worst. Honestly, I’m a big believer in those little signs the body throws at you—I actually listen to them, and thanks to that, I caught my cancer when it was still in the super early stages. At the end of the day, your psychology is everything in this fight. You just can't let yourself buckle...

Nothing new to report from me, really—just felt like tossing some of my random thoughts out there for you all to chew on...

Lisa Kelly53 said:update: the ultrasound report says fibrocystic

Look, fibrocystic breasts—or fibrocystic breast changes—are super common among women. It’s officially called fibrocystic breast dysplasia... and before you panic, it's totally non-cancerous.

Honestly, you can find pretty much everything on this if you just Google "fibrocystic breasts."

slyseal28 said:There’s an article dropping tomorrow in the LA Times about www.carcinoms.com

I haven't seen what the reporters actually wrote yet—fingers crossed they play it straight... keep those fingers crossed for me!

Major props. It’s about time someone built something like this for all of us. I'm seriously hoping this sparks some actual awareness among doctors—because let's be real, some of them make massive, unforgivable mistakes when dealing with cancer, especially with younger patients who, unfortunately lately, seem to be getting hit just as hard as the elderly.

Best of luck.

Angela Wright said:Well, this exhausting day is finally over. I’m just sitting here trying to get some thoughts down before I crash, and I really wanted to say thanks again to everyone for the kind words. Some of your posts honestly hit me right in the feels.

The morning kicked off at 5:30 AM with my dad freaking out because Mom choked on some grits and stopped breathing. I was doing CPR on her for a solid 15 minutes—she managed two shallow breaths, vomited once, then lost her pulse. I was doing chest compressions while we waited for the paramedics. They rushed in, gave her adrenaline, cleared her airways, tried everything... nothing.
Even though I knew she was close to the end, the sheer speed of it all just floored me. Everything had been moving so slowly lately that I figured she’d just sort of fade away one day, you know? Just stop breathing quietly.
Maybe this was actually better for everyone. It was fast, almost instantaneous, and she took her last breath right in my arms. I was so terrified she wouldn't go peacefully in her sleep—I desperately wanted to be there.
I was also weirded out by how numb I felt during the whole resuscitation attempt—just staring at her blue lips and those fixed pupils... total numbness and disbelief, like I was watching a movie or something.
That fog has lasted pretty much all day. I only really broke down when certain dear people came by and started talking about who she was before she got sick.
Maybe the numbness is because I’ve been mourning her for a long time already. Even while she was still here, I’d get these massive waves of grief just knowing she wasn't going to be able to hear me, talk to me, or answer any of my questions.
I think the hardest part is what comes next—being alone in this house and facing that absolute void. The toughest transition will probably be moving from this "new normal" where the last two years have revolved entirely around her, back to a daily life that's suddenly, sharply focused on just me.
I’m just putting my faith in God's providence to light the way again.

And one more thing:
I found out today that a friend of mine—who beat Hodgins and was told she’d never be able to conceive—is pregnant. She’s my mom’s godmother, and I can’t help but feel like my mom traded her life for this baby's.
Life is beautiful and bizarre.

You are such a strong person.

That emptiness in the house will hang around for a while, but it will pass. The void in your soul, though... that stays forever.

I lost my mom ten years ago. I miss her so much, especially when I have stuff on my mind and nobody to vent to. In those moments, I just wish so badly she was here.

You have to stay brave and strong—for yourself and for your dad. Based on everything you’ve posted, it’s obvious you’ve got this. You really do. 🙂

I don't know your friend, but since we're dealing with the same illness, I am beyond happy for her. I'm sharing in her joy. Sending her all the luck in the world.

Angela Wright said:My mom passed away peacefully this morning.
I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for being there for me during this incredibly tough time.
Love you guys! May God bless you all through your own struggles... hang in there.

Sending you so much love after hearing about your mom. 😘

Keep being the powerhouse you’ve always been.

So, regarding blood work results while you're going through chemo—I really feel like I should share what happened with me. Obviously, every diagnosis is different and the treatment protocols vary wildly, but still...

Right before my sessions started, I stumbled upon some link online claiming that drinking massive amounts of green tea during chemo was a "must." Apparently, it’s supposed to help with those crashing white blood cell counts by boosting bone marrow recovery and getting everything back on track. So, naturally, I went overboard. I was drinking so much of it I felt like I was practically sweating it out of my pores. But honestly? Throughout the whole process, my blood counts stayed incredibly stable—almost like a baby's...
Before my very last session, I finally quit. I couldn't even stand the smell of the stuff anymore—it made me want to gag. I went totally cold turkey for 15 days. Then, the day before that final treatment, I get my labs back... white blood cell count at 2.8. Total disaster. I called my doctor, and of course, they pushed the treatment back a week, praying that things would turn around by then. Well, the second I heard that, I went right back to the tea—four or five cups a day, easy. Two days later? Re-tested. White blood cells jumped to 6.9. I mean, what else are you gonna think? It actually works...

Nancy Hernandez43
Do doctors eventually just turn into robots? Honestly, it feels like they just Google every major disease they see. They give you the exact same blank stare whether they’re telling you you’re sick or giving you a clean bill of health. It’s like they’re thinking, "Why are you even happy about this?"—and honestly, that kind of vibe makes my skin crawl. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying *every* doctor is like this—they definitely left that impression on me personally—but it feels like 99% of them have zero emotional range. You’re sitting there hoping for even a tiny supportive smile, but nope... just a total brick wall. That's just how they are.

I totally get why Mother would react so coldly, because I've been right there in the trenches. Every three months I have a follow-up, and those fifteen days leading up to getting the results are pure nerve-wracking hell. I actually powered through chemo—and I mean that literally—staying on my feet and working instead of taking sick leave because I felt like I needed that strength... but man, when I think about the possibility of a relapse and having to do it all over again, I don't even know if I could handle it. So yeah, I get her reaction. Living life in three-month increments is brutal. You need so much mental toughness just to stay afloat.