Posts by Angela Wright

So, I did a little digging online and stumbled upon this article where—amongst a bunch of other stuff (which, thank God, doesn't apply to you)😳—it specifically calls out a frontal sinus osteoma as the most common type of sinus osteoma.

George Perez93 said:I need everything you guys know about Hodgkin's

Talking about Hodgkin? Hodgkin lymphoma
Basically, it’s a tumor of the lymph nodes. It typically progresses
slowly at first, manifesting as large, painless swollen lymph nodes, usually in the neck area.
Treatment options can include surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy.
A lot of people beat Hodgkin's, even if the disease has spread significantly
by the time they get diagnosed. It mostly hits young
adults.
Source:http://www.leukaemia.org.au/web/reso...a_croatian.pdf
Definitely check out that link; it explains everything pretty clearly.
Look, it's a nasty type of cancer, but it's treated with massive success. A friend of mine was diagnosed at 16 and she beat it. She's 28 now and totally healthy.
Non-Hodgkin is the worse version compared to Hodgkin's.

http://www.vasezdravlje.com/izdanje/clanak/887/ check this one out too

Jack Price5 said:Anyone know how sketchy a sinus osteoma actually is? And what’s the deal with a septated frontal sinus?

Thanks in advance... 😳

A septal sinus—I'm assuming that's just a derivative of the term "septum," meaning a partition or divider.
Look, an osteoma isn't actually a malignant tumor. It’s more like a slow-moving nuisance that can cause all sorts of headaches if it starts ballooning in size. The real danger zones are when they grow inside the skull and start putting pressure on the brain—that's when things get serious. If you're dealing with any breathing issues because of it, you're likely looking at surgery. I had a buddy who had one on his scalp; out of nowhere, it just surged in size and started causing him intense pain, so he had to go under the knife. The bottom line? Doctors told him those types of tumors can recur, meaning they might pop up again somewhere else down the road.

Betty Cox30 said:Does anyone know if any pharmacy in the Washington, D.C. area actually has Niner tablets in stock? They’re made by Johnson & Johnson, but I’ve checked about ten different locations today and they all told me they haven't had them for two months—and apparently, there isn't a direct substitute!

It’s been out of stock for months now; word is they’re running low on the raw ingredients needed for production. My mom takes it as a preventative measure, and we finally managed to track some down at a clinic pharmacy over in Brooklyn. They were smart enough to stock up ahead of time. If they happen to be sold out, there's an alternative available at the center pharmacy in syrup form, but you can't get it with a prescription and it'll run you about $20. The only real surrogate I'm aware of is Nolick, which serves the same purpose as Niner, though it's nowhere near as effective.

Robert Morris5 said:Is it possible that a 10 mg Normabell dose is just too much for someone who weighs around 110 pounds and is on the taller side? My hips were really acting up because I was walking so much, and this morning I felt all stiff, so I found these tablets I had prescribed a while back. They actually helped settle my muscles, but since I took one just now, I feel so dizzy. Is that normal? I don't usually take them. My head feels like it's floating in a fog, even though my muscles finally feel relaxed. Could it be dangerous since I took it on an empty stomach? Thanks
I'm writing this through a bit of a haze, honestly. Would it help if I went to grab something to eat right now?
How much Normabell 10mg can you actually take in a day before things get bad?
It’s kind of wild to me that just one pill makes me feel this intoxicated.

I should mention that I'm starting to feel incredibly sleepy, too—I can barely see what I'm typing without needing to squint. I'm not sure what to do; maybe that 10 mg dose is just way too strong for me?
How many times a day, and at what intervals, is it okay to take Normabell 10mg? Thanks

There are weaker versions of Normabell that will relax you without making you feel wasted.😬 Personally, I would definitely consult a doctor before taking a medication like that without guidance.😳

brightgardener8 said:Angela Wright, how is your mom doing? Are they still giving her those heavy doses of dexamethasone? Over here, things are... That 8 mg dose held steady from Thursday through Monday, but now we're starting to see a slight decline again. 😢 We have a follow-up appointment at the Mayo Clinic this Friday, so we'll see what the plan is.

Mom seems slightly better, so we've stopped the injections and moved back to pills. She’s started chewing a little again, but honestly, it’s just heartbreaking. It's bad.
Don't let your mom's recent dip get to you too much. It's just the way time works. I've noticed my own mom takes a visible turn for the worse every time the weather shifts, and I see others complaining about the exact same thing with their folks. My mom has been moaning for two days straight; I think she has a massive headache. Look, I've felt terrible these past two days myself—constant dizziness, just wanting to lie down and sleep—so imagine how they feel. You can only picture the chaos happening inside the brain when the pressure from edema and the tumor tries to balance out against external atmospheric pressure.😳
Ugh, I can't even stand thinking about the Mayo Clinic. Every time I see a hospital on TV, I get this knot in my stomach and start swallowing hard.

Elizabeth Diaz60 said:Thanks, Angela Wright. A Mixed Glioma is essentially a blend of an Oligodendroglioma and an Astrocytoma. While she was at home, she wasn't taking dexamethasone; she was on Medrol instead. However, they stopped the Medrol during her last hospital stay. I honestly can't rule out the possibility that her confusion is actually a side effect of that switch. My oncologist mentioned that Temodal is typically used for Glioblastoma and anaplastic Astrocytoma. Mom had her surgery in Indianapolis, which is also where her oncologist is located. She’s surrounded by people who love her and are looking after her.

Look, someone should take her test results and head over to Washington, D.C., to get a second opinion from the neurosurgeons at the Mayo Clinic—maybe talk to Dr. Paladin, Melada, or Heinrich. I'm not saying the doctors in Indianapolis aren't skilled, but I firmly believe that more heads are better than one when you're dealing with this.
Medrol isn't exactly the gold standard for brain tumors. It just doesn't cut it like dexamethasone does. You should ask them about it. Personally, I think a dose of Mannitol might stabilize her, and then she could be maintained on dexamethasone. Generally speaking, everyone here who has been in this exact situation and spoke up followed that protocol and saw real improvement. My own mother did.

Elizabeth Diaz60 said:It's my first time on this forum. I'm asking for some advice. My mom had brain tumor surgery twice about two years ago (07/2005 and 10/2005). The first pathology report showed an Oligodendroglioma, but the second indicated a Grade II-III Mixed Glioma located in the right temporal region. They managed to reduce the tumor as much as possible through surgery. Following that, she underwent radiation therapy. In 05/2006, she started chemotherapy with CCNU tablets. During that period, her quality of life was relatively good, and CT scans didn't show any signs of recurrence. However, things took a dramatic turn in 05/2007. Mom is now immobile in her left leg and arm. CT and MRI scans show a new growth in a different location. The neurosurgeon said it isn't operable due to its position, and the oncologist says further radiation isn't an option because not enough time has passed since the last round. The stereotactic biopsy results state: “Most likely post-radiation necrosis accompanied by sporadic rare tumor cells found in the examined samples, reflecting deep infiltration of the underlying glioma process.” The situation has become even more complicated due to thrombosis in her left leg, which kept her in the hospital for three and a half weeks. She's home now, but her condition is worse than ever. Her leg and arm are even less mobile, and she spends much of her time disoriented in space and time. There's a possibility her oncologist might introduce another type of chemotherapy. Generally speaking, the doctors have basically given up on her. As a family, we find it incredibly hard to accept these prognoses and want to do everything possible to give her a fighting chance. Please, if anyone can offer any advice, I would appreciate it. Sending my best wishes for healing to everyone here, whether you are posting or just reading.

Man, she is really going through the wringer.😳
That Mixed Glioma sounds like a tumor made up of all sorts of different cells—almost like a transitional form.
I honestly don't feel smart enough to give specific medical advice. Usually, these inoperable cases are handled with Gamma Knife, but it sounds like that's off the table right now because of the necrosis and swelling. Is she taking Dexamethasone? It can cause some systemic swelling/bloating, but at least it reduces that brain swelling, which helps lessen those neurological outbursts.
I'm not sure if Temodal can be used for a Mixed Glioma or if it's strictly for Astrocytoma? You should look into that.
My only real advice is to get a second opinion. Where did she have her surgery? brightgardener8 once emailed her husband's records to Houston Oncology and received a very detailed response from Dr. Yang, suggesting there were still more options to explore.
Regarding the thrombosis—my mom was right on the edge of that too. I actually asked if she could take something like an aspirin protect, and they told us, "Actually, yes, aspirin protect is fine." Of course, none of the doctors thought to suggest it; I just happened to know that people dealing with thrombosis and vascular issues need blood thinners to prevent clotting. Ask the doctors about that. Personally, I think she should be on it.
If she’s mostly bedridden, try to borrow a hospital bed with an anti-decubitus mattress from a local nursing home or medical supply shop. If she develops a wound on her leg on top of that thrombosis, it could be a disaster. I knew someone on a forum whose father-in-law ended up dying from gangrene rather than the tumor because of poor pressure management. You can usually rent those beds for a symbolic monthly fee, maybe around $200.$100
God, I know how you feel. That sense of helplessness and having to face reality is the absolute worst. You have to prepare yourselves for every possibility because there isn't much choice. Just focus on maximizing her quality of life. Make sure she has excellent care and is surrounded by people who love her. That is the most important thing you can provide for her.
Hang in there, everyone, and don't back down—the fight isn't over yet. Don't go jumping to the worst-case scenario just yet! If things actually hit the fan, we'll have plenty of time for the mourning and the tears later. Right now, there's still a massive amount of work left to be done.

bluewalker30 said:It doesn't matter if the info is old or not; what matters is whether it's available. A lot of people haven't heard it. Anything I think might offer someone help or hope, I'm going to post regardless of how old the news is. That’s the same level of support I expect from other members here, because so many things get overlooked, forgotten, or ignored when they could actually be life-saving. For instance, in the beginning, I was mixing juices together. I had no idea you should really wait two hours between them... I learned that from an oncologist who specializes in nutrition.

Oh, come on, don't get worked up about it.🙂 Here is a link to a thread on this very topic from back in March.😉

Carol Sanchez2 said:WHERE ON EARTH DID YOU FIND THIS DATA?

That news is ancient history. Just Google Tykerb and you'll find everything you need.

Aaron Johnson29 said:I’m glad to hear your family has pulled together and managed to find some silver lining amidst these horrific illnesses. But honestly? I don't buy the idea that there's always a grand reason behind this kind of suffering. What possible logic explains a three-year-old going through all this, only to have to relive the nightmare again at seven? You have this beautiful child and a family that was finally starting to find their footing, thinking the worst was behind them once the check-ups were done. Now, their entire world has imploded again, and they're back in the trenches. They gave up everything to move to Chicago with his younger brother, and even then, expensive treatments abroad are just out of reach. I hate this disease. I hate that those who actually deserve to suffer aren't the ones facing it—you only have to turn on the news to see plenty of people who do. It isn't fair, it makes no sense, and sometimes, it’s just too much to bear.

It is gut-wrenching when this happens to a small child. But if you look at it pragmatically, these heavy experiences seem to follow a pattern that isn't necessarily about the child's own experience, but rather about the parents and the people fighting to fix things and maintain control. When you eventually overcome it, you’ll emerge stronger than before, seasoned by experience and carrying a level of gratitude for the little things that you simply didn't notice before.
In reality, we shouldn't frame these situations in a way that makes us feel helpless or pathetic, because that just drains our own strength. We are all players in a game where our abilities are limited and the outcomes are unpredictable, but that is precisely why we are given this sacred ability to adapt to whatever life throws at us. In the end, we learn to handle our wins without getting carried away by ego, and we handle our losses by telling ourselves—and believing—that we did everything within our power. That’s where we find the peace and the purpose needed to keep playing the game.
At the end of the day, death is a certainty for all of us. Unfortunately, no matter how hard we struggle or how angry we get that God didn't give us a chance to do more—especially when it involves a tiny child who hasn't even truly begun to live—we simply have no choice but to accept reality and carry on. Honestly, we shouldn't even have to try that hard to act this way; it’s an instinct, it's human nature. The problem is the mental block, the way our hearts ache because our will demands a different outcome. Ultimately, once we hit that wall of exhaustion and surrender, we reach a state of peace with the situation, accepting the outcome regardless of what it may be.

stormymaker24 said:Yeah, but there are cases where the pain is just brutal without any obvious trigger. That was my mother's experience. She never had any visible issues, yet she was in constant agony. For her, the cramps started easing up after her first sexual encounter and eventually stopped altogether once she gave birth.

But look, Susan Vaughn46, you definitely need to get an ultrasound.

That’s exactly what I was thinking. Sure, sometimes the pain can spike for no reason at all, but dealing with debilitating, killer cramps during every single period isn't just something you should shrug off. There's always a reason.😳

Here we go again with the same old story. I’m right there in the trenches with you, dealing with endometriosis myself. I just want to tell every woman out there who deals with pain so violent that she actually passes out and ends up in an ER begging for painkiller injections: listen to me—that is not normal. Sure, if things get a little intense once in a while and a Tylenol or Advil takes the edge off, fine. But when the pain hits like a freight train and absolutely nothing can touch it? That isn't just "bad cramps." It's a crisis. This just isn't right. Don't let anyone talk you out of getting an ultrasound from your gynecologist. Period.
As for me, I’ve finally moved past the heavy, painful periods thanks to Yasmin—at least for the time being.

😲 Are they actually reading us?
Fine by me. Let them keep lurking; maybe they’ll finally realize that they need to start working on some honest, healthy communication with their patients and their families.

I’m feeling just as disgusted, though from the opposite side of the fence. I’ve been in that position where people were blatantly lying to my face about things like using Temozolomide for treating recurrent glioblastoma, but those lies always end up surfacing eventually.

Look, if there isn't any money and there aren't any supplies, don't lie and say "it doesn't help." Just be straight: say you don't have it, suggest we try to source it ourselves, or offer to let us pay for it so you can procure it. That is healthy, logical, and human. It is perfectly clear to me that limited funds should be spent on someone who can actually be helped and cured, rather than being poured into someone where you're just buying a little more time—which is exactly what happened with my mom's glioblastoma. At the same time, it is absolutely inhumane to deny us the chance to pay for that time ourselves, especially when every second with her is so precious.

Thanks for listening. My hat goes off to the medical staff who still put patients ahead of the system, even while constantly getting slapped in the face by administration and Medicare.🙏.

velvetseal9 said:At this point, we aren't even talking about whether my license is expired anymore; the reality is that they’ve already confiscated my driver's license, and there is likely a notation stamped on it stating that I am legally barred from driving from July 25th through September 25th.
The core issue here is that they processed this entire expedited misdemeanor proceeding entirely behind my back, without my knowledge or any involvement whatsoever. They failed to deliver a single summons, a decision, or even a basic notice to me for an entire year and a half. Consequently, they’ve effectively declared me guilty in absentia, stripping me of my right to contest the charges or present a defense, relying solely on the word of some officer written down in a report!
The only window I had to file an appeal was within that narrow eight-day period specified on the citation—a document I never even laid eyes on until I walked into the Heinz office eighteen months later to discover what on earth had happened to me.
What kind of recourse do I actually have left?

Honestly, you need to hire a lawyer and sue them. It's a blatant violation of your constitutional rights; you were denied due process, denied the right to counsel, and denied the right to appeal. On top of that, you're being actively harmed because they've taken your ability to drive.

slyseal28 said:Just wanted to drop in and say hi to everyone. My husband starts his second round of chemo this Monday. So far, everything looks great—his blood counts are solid. We’re almost through the worst of it.

I see there have been some interesting threads flying around lately...

Sending lots of love and hugs to you all.😘

slyseal28, that's awesome news. Give my best to the giant👍. We haven't seen any sarcomas pop up on our end. I assume you've been in touch with them through their website. How are things looking over there? How many more rounds of chemo do they have planned?

Chris Peterson53 said:Look, I wouldn't call it unprofessional; I’d call it being human. Unless you can actually prove they’re doing it on purpose—like, intentionally undermining a colleague’s authority just to boost their own ego for some personal gain—then you shouldn't be throwing accusations around. Sure, it’s bad for the patient. It shakes their confidence and makes them feel unsafe, regardless of how the treatment actually turns out. But if you haven't personally sat in on a single medical board meeting, you have absolutely no clue what goes on behind those closed doors. Honestly, it’s better that way—and especially better for the patients.

I have a pretty clear vision of how this ought to work, and honestly, it should be treated like actual teamwork. Medicine needs to function as a cohesive unit rather than a fragmented mess. Take my mother, for example—she’s been battling glioblastoma for two years now, and she hasn't had a single neurologist managing her case from start to finish because none of these doctors actually communicate. Instead, they spend their time tripping each other up, undermining one another's reputations, and sabotaging any semblance of professionalism. I'm not just talking out of turn here; this was a raw, heartfelt vent from our oncologist that really laid everything bare. I still maintain that the doctor had an outburst that, while perhaps "human" in the sense that it revealed a deeply unflattering character trait, was completely unacceptable. You can have all the expertise and clinical experience in the world, but if you behave that way toward your colleagues—even if they are the absolute worst in terms of both bedside manner and technical skill—you've failed. There is such a thing as professional conduct when dealing with coworkers and patients, and frankly, it should be a core pillar of medical training.

I was part of that machine for a long time, and I’m calling it exactly what it is.
Look, it’s pretty simple: anyone working in healthcare—regardless of their specific role—who deals with the critically ill or those facing death is going to build up a psychological fortress. It happens almost subconsciously from day one on the job. You start interacting with that level of suffering, and before you even realize it, you've constructed this massive defensive wall just to stay sane.
Can you even begin to wrap your head around the weight they’re all dragging behind them? It's like they're wading through an endless ocean of misery—dealing with death, constant suffering, and people looking to them for miracles that they simply cannot perform.

Why bother pursuing a medical degree if you haven't already come to terms with the reality that you aren't some kind of miracle worker? You have to accept that medicine provides tools, not magic wands. It’s an incredibly brutal path, I get that—believe me, I do—but that exact lack of realism is why we see such a massive divide between doctors who are truly exceptional and those whose practice is just plain mediocre.

To survive emotionally and professionally, healthcare workers start distancing themselves from their patients, focusing strictly on the pathology rather than the person. It’s a survival mechanism, plain and simple. When you combine that psychological wall with the absolute mess that is the current state of the American healthcare system, you get the grim reality of what we're facing today. Sure, there are still good people out there, but a significant number have completely lost their humanity. They’ve either become totally desensitized just to cope, they picked the wrong profession entirely, or—let's be honest—they view this calling as nothing more than a stepping stone for their own careers.
That’s exactly why those who go all in—not just professionally, but emotionally—are the ones who truly feel the impact. It's the people who actually connect with their patients who end up bearing the weight of it all. personal They need to take personal responsibility for every single patient who walks through their doors asking for help. They shouldn't be dumping that burden onto the rest of the collective.

That’s exactly the point. Medicine shouldn't be a solo act; it needs to be a team sport. You simply cannot carry the entire weight of responsibility on your own shoulders. There are times when that burden becomes so crushing that a doctor hits a wall—they mentally freeze up, and suddenly they can't even apply the very knowledge they possess to help their patient. It’s like trying to hold up a falling building by yourself; eventually, you just buckle. Practicing medicine is incredibly grueling work. I have nothing but profound respect for the people who walk into this profession with their eyes wide open to all its complexities and pressures, rise to become top-tier experts, and still manage to keep their integrity intact.

This entire thread is essentially a mirror reflecting how human relationships have shifted over the last few decades.
In the past, people passed away surrounded by family, often with several generations living under one roof. Their presence provided solace to the dying, while their mutual support gave strength to those left behind. People died in their own beds, in their own homes, because if they were in a hospital, the family would almost always bring them back home to die among their own kin, under their own roof.
There was always someone there—even just a neighbor. No one was abandoned, day or night.
There was a sense of density and interconnectedness within families and the surrounding community—neighbors, acquaintances—everyone was solidary and ready to step up in such a moment. Because being present is often more vital than any medical tool meant to dull the pain. Children were part of that fabric, too.
With the rise of alienation and the fracturing of the family unit into isolated individuals, all of that has vanished. We’ve seen the dehumanization of death and the dying process, starting as early as childhood. We’ve developed these official and unofficial theories and practices suggesting children shouldn't be burdened with facing illness or death. Of course, you wouldn't put young children in those situations, neither then nor now, but today this logic is applied even to those who are given the right to everything else *except* the chance to understand and develop a proper relationship with mortality (and all its realities, including suffering).
Today, both the dying and their loved ones are left alone. The elderly and the terminal are sent off to "institutions to write off" (like N. Marof).
And as I've said before, there is no professional support available—neither for those departing nor for those staying behind. That kind of help is desperately needed, and in a way, this thread and this exchange of thoughts and experiences is what those large families used to be.

I completely agree with you. Through my own trauma, I’ve come to realize who I really am, and I see people coming here opening their souls, totally unprepared for death as a natural conclusion to life, even though most of us are well over 30. We are all mature enough to accept it. Death is inevitable, and while it is painful—mostly for selfish reasons—it is natural, and through the death of others, we must learn to accept our own mortality. Children are being raised wrong; I was raised wrong in that regard. I will try to raise my child with the spirit that everything is fleeting, to live each day as if it were the last, focusing primarily on today and only thinking, very briefly and vaguely, about tomorrow.
Regarding dying within the family, I am absolutely with you. Unfortunately, modern society is structured in a way that is anything but humane. Business is placed above everything else. A woman on this forum messaged me privately, crying because her mother is at death's door, but she can't be with her because of a monster of a boss who refuses to tolerate it (a man who acts immortal and cannot stomach the concept of death🤣 😠), and she can't risk losing her job because she has small children and needs the income. Personally, amidst my own tragedy, I feel blessed because I am unemployed, allowing me to provide my mother with the ability to be by her side until her very last heartbeat, in her own room under her favorite picture, by a window with her favorite view—clean, washed, cared for, fed, and without pain, with days filled with kisses. Isn't that a happy death? Because we are both at peace.

Thank you for reaching out and sharing your perspective.🙂

amberheron62 said:I don't count a crash unless I'm hitting at least 45 mph—anything less than that is just a minor scrape😛
It’s like having a medic sitting in your backpack ready to deploy bandages, antiseptic, Gauze, and disinfectant at a moment's notice.. 😁

@dustypuma4—they actually told me to get a tetanus shot about six weeks ago for a similar injury (a pretty wide scrape on my side), so you might be in the same boat.. Especially since if you finished high school back in the day, it means your last booster was likely over five years ago... I think. 😁

My boyfriend can't see this post or you'll totally bruise his cycling ego😁 See, he’s the type who wipes out on flat ground🤣 and usually at pretty low speeds (total amateur😛 )
That bit about the tetanus really got me thinking. My sweetie took quite a tumble and scraped himself up pretty bad about 2 or 3 months ago. I'm guessing it's too late for an anti-tetanus shot now, and if he were going to catch anything, he would have by now. Next time he goes down, I'm sending him straight for the needle, which will probably be any minute now since he seems to crash roughly every two months😬 .

vividhawk87 said:I don't want to start a whole new thread since I'm dealing with the exact same thing, so I'm asking for advice too...

So, my period was 11 days late this month. My cycle isn't exactly predictable anyway; it usually runs about 4 or 5 days behind.

The issues actually kicked off back in May when I missed my period entirely, and the same thing happened in June. I went to see my OB-GYN, and she told me I wasn't pregnant (even though we're trying to conceive 😁) and prescribed some pills to jumpstart my cycle. I finally got my period in July because of those meds, but now in August, it's significantly late.

Here’s what’s really eating at me. It’s not stress, and it’s not the summer heat—I stopped taking birth control back in November and everything was fine until now. But my sister has a pituitary tumor of unknown origin, which caused her similar issues; she didn't have a period for two years.

It's a type of tumor that causes elevated prolactin and testosterone levels. Is it possible I could have that too, like an inherited thing? No one else in my family has dealt with this. Also, if my period is late again next month and I'm not pregnant, how long should I wait before getting blood work and a brain scan done to check?

I highly doubt you have a pituitary tumor. Remember, your sister almost certainly had other symptoms besides just missing her period.
Nobody actually knows why these tumors develop in the first place.

Grab some Bivouac spray and give it a good blast; you’ll be smooth as a baby's bottom in no time.👍 It sounds like you hang out with the same crowd as my boyfriend—he’s obsessed with mountain biking too, so he always keeps that spray tucked in his pack.😁