4549 posts shown.
northernhawk7 said:Look, don't get mad at me just because I'm the new guy on the block. I didn't show up to this prestigious forum out of boredom or to rain on anyone's parade—far from it. It’s just that I finally need this thread for exactly what it was originally intended for, though it seems that thanks to some dedicated folks, the focus has shifted over the years. Since my time is limited, and I've noticed the recent posts have mostly centered around cancer and its complications, I have to ask: is this thread still meant to provide support for FAMILIES dealing with SEVERE ILLNESSES? Here is the deal—at 46 years old (oops!), I’ve been hit with epilepsy involving three major seizures in quick succession. My wife, who's a bit older than me, has been fighting her son's epilepsy since he was 17. Her two favorite people are suffering from the same condition, and she’s feeling completely helpless. That’s why I’m here; I need some practical advice. Personally, I'm handling my own diagnosis like a pro, you know?
Well, jadesailor14 already pointed you in the right direction. This thread is wide open for anyone facing serious health battles. It just so happens—whether by accident or design—that most of the conversation lately has revolved around cancer issues.
I see you're quoting the start of my post regarding World Patient Day just so there isn't any confusion... basically, the American Cancer Society used that occasion as a platform to raise awareness about one specific group of patients. Because of the nature of their illness, the sheer number of cases (about 25,000 new diagnoses every year), and the stigma that comes with the diagnosis, they wanted to alert the public to what is actually happening.
Back in 1993, Pope John Paul II declared World Patient Day specifically to shine a light on those facing terminal illnesses. In response to the Holy Father's call, oncology patients and the American Cancer Society—specifically through the "Together Against Cancer" initiative—are demanding that health administrators actually take notice of the suffering they’re ignoring. It is frankly unacceptable how the current funding levels for medical institutions remain embarrassingly low. This lack of financial support creates a direct roadblock, preventing doctors from performing the essential medical procedures required to actually cure patients or, at the very least, improve their quality of life.
Fighting the oncology waiting list is a battle we shouldn't have to fight. It’s a systemic failure when patients are left sitting in limbo while their condition progresses. We need more than just sympathy; we need action to streamline access to care and get people into treatment immediately.
Because of aggressive cost-cutting measures, countless cancer patients are being denied a fighting chance at recovery. Doctors aren't allowed to admit this, nor can they speak openly about how they actually treat patients or the impossible conditions they’re forced to work under—because the second someone breaks rank, they face the consequences. Our healthcare system is becoming defined by arbitrary budget caps and rigid quotas imposed on hospitals and clinics. A doctor's success in running a medical facility is now measured by how well they manage a spreadsheet rather than their ability to cure disease, advance medical science, or respect patient rights. It’s all about hitting limits. In their day-to-day practice, physicians can't just follow what a patient's condition demands; they have to constantly look over their shoulder at the interests of the administration. Patients get stalled; the timely interventions that medical expertise dictates simply don't happen unless we're talking about a patient who can foot the bill themselves. As the system prioritizes the bottom line, it becomes increasingly difficult to provide the right medication at the right time, let alone ensure that a person can face the end of their life with dignity.
The American Cancer Society—under their "Together Against Cancer" banner—is stepping up and demanding that hospitals increase both their patient capacity and their bed counts specifically for oncology care. Their stance is pretty blunt: you can't squeeze better outcomes out of a shrinking budget. It’s basic math. If you cut funding, you lose access to sophisticated diagnostic testing, and without those high-level scans and specialized tools, you aren't getting accurate diagnoses or providing the quality treatment patients actually need to survive.
When someone walks into a hospital, they need to feel certain that they’ll be admitted, examined, and treated properly. A patient needs to know their doctor has the green light to do whatever is medically necessary to address their condition—they shouldn't be hamstrung by ridiculously low quotas or arbitrary limits. At a recent press conference, it was made clear that this kind of "cost-cutting" focused solely on hitting budget targets isn't going to save the healthcare system from its current crisis. It certainly won't shorten waiting lists or fix the breakdown in communication between doctors and patients. In fact, the American Cancer Society, through their "Together Against Cancer" initiative, argues that these types of reforms actually destroy a doctor's professional reputation and wipe out the trust and honest dialogue required for effective care. Violating a patient's rights—rights that are fundamentally guaranteed by the Constitution—is a direct consequence of imposing these undignified quotas and limits.
Cleveland — a burning issue
According to epidemiological data from the CDC, the Mayo Clinic attracts patients from three different states, two of which suffer from an incredibly high incidence of malignant diseases. To provide adequate treatment for this entire patient population, the Mayo Clinic would need to allocate roughly $500,000 to its two specialized clinics. However, since August, the budget limits for both facilities have been slashed even further due to "operational streamlining" at the hospital level. As a result, we’re seeing a massive spike in the number of patients who aren't receiving the care they actually need. Now, those limits are... $217 What does it actually mean when only one out of every five patients facing a malignant disease can access quality treatment? It’s a staggering statistic that points to a massive, systemic failure in our healthcare infrastructure. We aren't just talking about a minor gap in service; we're talking about a reality where the vast majority of people fighting for their lives are left navigating a broken system without the high-level care they desperately need. It means that for most Americans, "fighting cancer" isn't just a biological battle—it's an uphill struggle against accessibility, cost, and a lack of specialized resources. When 80% of people are essentially sidelined from top-tier medical intervention, the system isn't just flawed; it's fundamentally broken.
Doctors are being forced to implement and extend these so-called waiting lists just to keep things from spiraling into absolute chaos. The American Cancer Society is making it crystal clear to the Department of Health and Human Services: these waiting lists shouldn't apply to oncology patients, period. We all know that when you're fighting cancer, every single day is a battle you can't afford to lose. You can't go around "rationalizing" costs by making the patients pay the price with their lives.
The American Cancer Society, through its "Together Against Cancer" initiative, is issuing a direct call to action for those in charge. We are demanding that the Director of the Mayo Clinic, Prof. Dr. Herman Haller, take IMMEDIATE steps to raise coverage limits. This isn't just a request—it's a necessity to ensure that every single patient battling a malignant disease can actually access the treatment they need.
The American Cancer Society's "Together Against Cancer" group just sent a clear message to the Department of Health and Human Services: stop judging hospital leadership by how much they can slash budgets or trim the fat. Real success should be measured by patient outcomes and recovery rates, not by how effectively administrators can cut costs and squeeze the margins.
Members of the American Cancer Society "Together Against Cancer":
"For a New Day," "Jeda," "All for Her!", "Europacolon," "Krijesnica," "Sanus," "Europa Donna," "American Laryngectomy Association," "American Leukemia and Lymphoma Association," "American Hospice Friends Association"
Megan Lewis said:I haven't been around here in a while, and thank God I didn't come back looking for trouble. I just want to give a massive shout-out to Angela Wright and slyseal28 for everything they've done for this absolute circus of a country and its dysfunctional healthcare system. You two have accomplished so much in such a short window; you’ve truly become a powerful, vital voice. I hope you’re as proud of yourselves as I am of you. Honestly, I feel a bit ashamed that I didn't find the strength to do more after everything my father and his "partner in crime" put us through, but I'm hoping to make things right soon...
I'm assuming you've been watching the news. 😁
Thanks for the kind words, though nothing would make us happier—seriously, nothing in the world—than seeing you step up and raise your voice for those who are living out their agony in a silent scream behind thick hospital walls.
That goes for all of you here on the forum.
Without that collective push, we aren't moving an inch!
dustyjackal13 said:My grandmother was laid to rest yesterday... I’m asking the admins if you could please just close this thread or toss it in the trash—whatever the protocol is here. Every time I see it, it hits me right in the gut and brings everything back... it's getting too hard to deal with. I'm really hoping you guys can take it down because there's honestly no point in keeping it up anymore, and it's just painful to look at, especially knowing I was typing this out while she was still with us... thanks in advance
Honey, please accept my deepest condolences.😢
Don't ever feel ashamed of this thread. It was a completely natural, human response to what you were going through.
I truly hope you made the most of the time she spent here.
May your grandmother rest in peace; carry her legacy in your heart with all the pride and love she instilled in you, and eventually, pass that same love down to your own children and grandchildren. That is how she stays alive in your world.
Hang in there. You’ll find your footing again, but for now, let her rest in peace.
Roger Sullivan63 said:You don't have to take those last two. The only real risk is that your period might arrive earlier than expected. You can always save those two pills for your next cycle if you want to keep your timing steady. That’s my take. 🙂
Look, I'll admit it—that didn't even cross my mind. 😁
Thanks for the advice. 🙂
I absolutely wrecked my stomach yesterday, and now I’m sitting here trying to drink a Pilsner before bed. I couldn't even finish it because I was burping non-stop. I’ve still got two left—the one from last night and today's.
Does it actually make sense to knock back the one from last night now and then squeeze in this final one sometime between Monday and Tuesday? It feels stupid to mess with my cycle; I worked really hard to time my period for Saturday, but honestly, my stomach is still acting like a total disaster 🤷
World Cancer Day, February 4th — Where do we actually stand?
article published: 02.03.2010.
Every February 4th, the world marks World Cancer Day. Today, members of the "United Against Cancer" coalition of oncology advocacy groups are calling out federal health authorities. They are reminding Washington about the standing Resolution on malignant tumors and hammering home a vital point: patient advocacy groups must be given a seat at the table when drafting and implementing the National Cancer Control Program. Without a comprehensive National Plan—one that actually defines specific targets and strategic goals—it’s impossible to pull off effective prevention or provide systemic care for those already battling the disease.
Global experts are sounding the alarm, predicting that cancer deaths will hit 11 million people by 2030. Most of these fatalities will occur in developing nations that lack the infrastructure to handle the crisis. America shouldn't be complacent; we have our own massive hurdles to clear.
The federal government hasn't ignored the issue entirely; they've made some strides by launching early detection programs for breast and colorectal cancers, along with HPV vaccination drives to prevent cervical cancer. But let’s be honest: right now, these initiatives feel like sporadic, localized efforts rather than a cohesive national strategy. Because turnout for certain screenings remains low, we need much tighter cooperation between the Department of Health and Human Services and civil society organizations. The reality is grim: cancer mortality rates are still climbing. According to recent data, we are still struggling with high death rates compared to other developed nations.
We need to stop dragging our feet. We have to accelerate existing early detection programs and force a better partnership between the government and the advocacy groups that carry one of the heaviest burdens in this fight: shifting the public perception so that a cancer diagnosis isn't viewed as an automatic death sentence.
While it's a relief that effective screening exists for three major types of cancer, we can't ignore the dark side of the coin. Some cancers simply aren't preventable, they're detected too late, or there are damn few therapeutic options available. For rare cancers, life-saving drugs are often unavailable within our borders. We need more funding—not just for research, but to pour resources into primary and secondary prevention, cutting-edge diagnostics, treatment, rehab, and palliative care through the establishment of dedicated hospice facilities. Furthermore, we must urgently address the blatant violations of patient rights and the discrimination faced by both patients and their family caregivers.
The only way to wage a real war against cancer is to unify every sector of society under one banner. To that end, oncology groups formed the "United Against Cancer" coalition. Their goal is simple but massive: to amplify the voices of all patients—regardless of whether they face common or rare malignancies, or what age they are—and to present a single, unified front when dealing with medical professionals and federal institutions.
The Oncology Advocacy Coalition "United Against Cancer!"
Members of the "United Against Cancer!" coalition:
"A New Day," "Steady Sails," "All for Her!", "EuroColon," "The Spark," "Europa Donna," "The American Laryngectomy Association," "The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society," "The American Hospice Friends Association"
dustyjackal13 said:I don't even know anymore... last night was just brutal, she was struggling so hard to breathe. We ended up calling over some close family who live nearby. I was wide awake until like 2 AM—just couldn't shut my brain off. I kept crying because I honestly thought it was over, but she made it to morning... though she still hasn't woken up. Probably just knocked out from the meds. Everyone is just sitting here waiting, just hoping for some kind of miracle, some sign that she'll pull through... I don't even know. My mind kept drifting to those awful images, you know, the funeral, people dressed in black, and then suddenly I'm thinking about her making pies and cookies when I was little, or walking through the orchard... it was like being in a trance. I dragged myself up around 6 this morning, I don't know. I just don't have the strength to pray to God right now—it feels like He let us down. Or maybe it’s just her, since she was at church every single Friday and Sunday, fasting every Friday and Tuesday for like 65 years straight.
I've calmed down a bit, I guess, but I feel like I'm just one step away from breaking down again.
Don't torture yourself like this, and try not to view the end of her life as some sort of punishment. Life is fleeting for everyone, regardless of whether they were saints or sinners—some leave us early, others much later. Some go through illness, while others make it to old age... and we all hope for that latter one. Your grandmother reached that milestone.
My own great-grandmothers were the most devout women to ever walk this earth. There wasn't a procession, pilgrimage, or Stations of the Cross they didn't participate in on their knees. They prayed the Rosary three times a day, always emphasizing that they did it for their children... but life, well, life is a different story entirely. Their children faced hardships and sickness, not because they were bad or good and God abandoned them, but simply because that is the nature of existence. What God did for them was guide them through those trials in the least agonizing way possible, so that when death eventually came, they could depart in a state of grace.
Focus on the happy times and talk to her about them. Don't let her leave this world with a heavy heart, because she can surely sense the bitterness and grief you're struggling with. She doesn't deserve that. Your grandmother was a woman of faith; she lived her life and practiced her fasts as an investment in the life to come. The Lord is calling her home now, and while it might seem strange, I truly believe that is why the gaze of the dying is always directed upward.
Since she is a believer, it might be a good idea to call a priest to administer the Anointing of the Sick. My mother received it several times. Once, we thought it was the end, but she recovered. Right after the priest left, she opened her eyes and seemed to find new strength. I think it would mean a lot to your grandmother, too. It would bring her lifelong devotion full circle.
dustyjackal13 said:Don't even go there... I honestly have no clue what I'd do to myself if anything ever happened to her.
Honey, that’s just the way life works... it isn't some freak occurrence or something unnatural. Our entire existence is nothing more than a series of hellos and goodbyes. Parting ways is brutal, there's no sugarcoating it, but it's inevitable. You have to focus on the quality of the life lived rather than just counting the years. Your grandmother made it to old age, and in this world, that is a massive achievement. She got to see her children and grandchildren grow up; she loved deeply and was loved right back. She's surrounded by her favorite people in her own home... believe me, given how fleeting everything is, there is no greater blessing than that. So please, try to be grateful for it.
I truly get what you're going through. I lost both my mother and my grandmother—the two people who loved me most in this entire world. That void they leave behind is heavy, but I find myself feeling thankful that I had them, and that they were able to pass with dignity, living their lives fully, loved and protected until the very end.
You're going to pull through.
Drew Thompson5 said:It’s me again, and I’m honestly at a loss here. My mother-in-law claims she almost collapsed at church today. Just to be clear, the cathedral is massive, so I highly doubt she ran out of oxygen or felt suffocated in there. She also mentioned having plenty to eat, and it wasn't even warm in there... so what am I supposed to do now? Personally, I think she needs some kind of IV drip with vitamins to perk her up, especially since she spent the entire last week suffering through intense pain and wearing that medical patch. Maybe she's just dehydrated; she’s always been terrible about drinking enough water... please help!!!
I remember when my own mother passed out in church once during communion. My immediate reaction was pure fury toward the priest and the deacon who suggested we just let her lie on the floor because she was "resting in the Holy Spirit" or some nonsense like that—as if you shouldn't touch someone in distress. I practically screamed at them: "Excuse me, people, she has a brain tumor!"
...anyway, they eventually brought her a glass of water, she came to, and she just went home like nothing happened.
The church is huge too—like a massive St. Patrick's Cathedral type of space.
Look, people who are that sick are much more sensitive than the rest of us. That constant cycle of standing up, sitting down, then standing back up will wear anyone out. Her blood sugar could be crashing, or her blood pressure could be swinging wildly, and suddenly you've got a fainting spell.
Let her rest today and stop pushing her. Just whip up some hearty soup and call it a day.
dustyjackal13 said:I really don't want to accept that... I'm going to do everything in my power to help her pull through. At the end of the day, it's all in God's hands. "Fading away"... reading that just completely floored me.
I'm so sorry.😢😢😢 I wrote down my own experience just like you asked.
But like you said, God has the final say.
Still, regardless of anything else, don't miss any opportunity to tell her how much she is loved. We don't talk about it nearly enough, forgetting that we're all just passing through and our lives are nothing more than a blink in the vastness of the universe.
dustyjackal13 said:Hey everyone, I’m looking for some insight regarding my grandma... she’s been pretty sick lately. She just got home from the hospital a few days ago, but honestly, it feels like she isn't really aware of anything around her. I can't tell if she’s just sleeping with her eyes open or if she simply doesn't have the strength to move at all.
Her face always looks like this—her eyes stay almost completely open, staring kind of past me, like she's looking at something way above my head... you can see a bit more of the white part under her eye. She was already blind in one eye, and the other is only about 60 percent vision.
She can't talk because of the surgery she had, and she's being fed through a tube. When I want to ask her something, I try to get her attention by speaking up a bit louder, like: "Grandma, if you're feeling hot, move your leg"—and I'll hold her leg at the same time just to feel for any reaction—or, "Grandma, if you're hungry, move your leg." Yesterday, she actually could move her leg enough to give me a sign, but today it's much weaker... almost nothing at all.
Now I'm just stuck wondering... is she not moving her leg because she's sleeping with her eyes open, or does she just lack the physical strength? 🤷 She survived on basically broth, tea, and some other "watery" stuff at the hospital for nine days, but now that she's back home, we've started giving her slightly thicker blended food so she can actually get some strength back.
A few times throughout the day—maybe 10 or 20 times—it sounds like she's breathing heavily. It's almost like a slight wheezing sound (she's using a cannula, but I keep it clean and check it regularly). It's almost like she's sighing deeply several times... I wonder if that's just what happens when someone is dreaming or something?
If anyone knows anything or has gone through something similar, please help me out. I'd really appreciate any insight you can give. Thanks.
My own experience is heartbreaking... I'm sorry I don't have anything positive to offer you. She's fading away. Everything you described is exactly what I witnessed with my grandmother, and then with my mother before they passed.😢
Just stay by her side constantly and talk to her about beautiful things. Do everything in your power to make her comfortable, and make sure everyone tells her how deeply she is loved. Hearing is the last sense to go, so she is almost certainly hearing all of you.
crimsongull20 said:There’s also the possibility that things just don't go according to plan. That's how my old man went out. He picked up some nasty virus while he was undergoing chemo for Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and his oncologist at Mayo Clinic had given him an incredible outlook for recovery. But he wouldn't stay put or take it easy; he kept pushing himself, wandering around like everything was fine. He dropped twenty pounds in a single week because of that virus and just... flickered out.
It’s almost been ten years since that happened—at least according to the calendar, though in my head, it feels like it was just yesterday.
Our little girl went out the exact same way. She ran a fever for a good week and refused to go to the hospital. By the time she finally took a turn for the worse and they rushed her in, her hemoglobin levels were practically non-existent... and then she was gone.😢
There's a specialized Sleep Disorders Center located at a major hospital over in Chicago. They deal specifically with the exact kind of issues you mentioned regarding your brother's condition.
Drew Thompson5 said:The hospital staff basically told us this was par for the course—once her fever climbed north of 101°F, they just brought the temperature down and called it a day. No antibiotics, no readmission, nothing.
It slipped my mind that she hasn't actually started chemo yet. In my experience, when you're mid-treatment and hit with a high fever, you have to get rushed to the ER immediately to get stabilized; an infection during chemo can be a literal death sentence.
She really needs to play it safe right now and avoid catching anything at all. She has to be physically "fit" before they can pull the trigger on the therapy, because if she isn't, the whole treatment gets pushed back—and every single day that delay happens is just giving the disease more room to run wild.
bolddrifter452 said:I don't have a fever at all today, and my throat feels way better..🙂)
I've been slamming lemonades, soups, teas, honey—basically everything under the sun. 🙂
Angela Wright 🙂 I'm really hoping this sticks and that the fever doesn't make a comeback.😉
👍
My throat finally stopped acting up today; now it's just some constant runny nose and a light cough.
By tomorrow, I’ll be ready to run a full marathon. 🙂
Jeffrey Garcia6 said:I actually dealt with a nasty sore throat, swollen lymph nodes, and a persistent high fever that turned out to be mono... so I really don't get why you're making such a huge deal out of 🤷
.
just copy/pasted the mono symptoms from WebMD...
Symptoms
The first signs typically emerge 4-8 weeks after infection: fatigue, loss of appetite, and chills, which often precede the onset of a sore throat, fever, and swollen lymph nodes by several days.
Severe throat inflammation usually prompts patients to seek medical attention. Occasionally, individuals may only experience fever or swollen lymph nodes, or perhaps just one complication. Most patients report headaches and general malaise.
Those kinds of symptoms have to linger for a while. You can't just take every single swollen node or scratchy throat and jump straight to a mono diagnosis, especially with flu season and all these other viruses going around right now. You're just scaring the girl for no reason.
so just chill out😳
Noah, how are you doing today?
urbanorca10 said:Hi everyone... I just wanted to share what our family is going through. My mom is battling osteosarcoma—a malignant tumor in her femur. I haven't had a chance to catch up on all your posts because there are just so many. She’s undergone two surgeries at a major hospital in Chicago, but during those procedures, she picked up a staph infection. Now, that same bacteria is causing massive complications because it's resistant to penicillin. Just today, they called to tell us that amputation might be the only way out. She’s in an impossible position right now. The first option is trying to somehow "wipe out" this infection, though there's no guarantee it'll work, but the risk is that the tumor could metastasize in the meantime. The other option is to move forward with the amputation immediately. Everything has to be decided within a two-week window. I'm doing my best to stay strong for her... I know that on top of everything else she's enduring, she doesn't need to worry about how I'm holding up. That's really it... I just needed to vent to people who have been in these shoes, because honestly, nobody else seems to get it...
Unfortunately, amputation is often the only lifeline left when dealing with osteosarcoma, especially when you're fighting a stubborn infection like this.
Your only real move here is to seek a second opinion. Only another specialist can competently weigh the risks and suggest a path forward.
Log in to
www.medicaladvice.com and post the same question. Otherwise, the association provides free second opinions for its members.
Drew Thompson5 said:She’s been recovering for nearly two months now, but she’s looking terrible—lost so much weight and barely eating anything. It’s mostly just whey protein, some fruit compote, maybe a protein shake, and that's about it. The hardest part is that she keeps all the details regarding her illness and treatment close to the chest, so we’re left in the dark about whether she'll end up needing chemotherapy or something else. I’m trying everything I can to get through to her, but I'm hitting a wall. She’s frequently running high fevers over 101°F, and yesterday they started her on morphine patches. Trying to coordinate with the surgeon is a nightmare because he’s constantly unavailable, and getting a hold of the oncologist is practically impossible. I needed to vent a little, and I feel a bit better now. Thanks for all the info and the support; I'll definitely keep you all posted.
Whenever an oncology patient runs a high fever, they need to head straight to the hospital to get put on antibiotics immediately.