Posts by Angela Wright

Carol Sanchez2 said:Hey, I’m actually familiar with that. My mom became friends with the woman who started it all. It's honestly great to see initiatives like this gaining momentum. And🙂

Could you dig a little deeper and find out exactly how their clinic operates and what kind of support they actually provide? It would be incredibly useful to take their "blueprint" for care and adapt it for other conditions—with the necessary tweaks, obviously—so I'm really curious about the mechanics. I’ve been thinking about launching something similar specifically focused on glioblastoma and other types of brain tumors.

NBC reported yesterday that the psychology department over at Microsoft Hospital just opened up a specialized outpatient clinic specifically to support breast cancer patients. I’m not entirely sure about the full scope of the services they're offering, but you really have to hand it to them—it's a fantastic move.🙂

Ryan Fisher64 said:First off, I want to say hello to everyone hanging out on this forum.

Look, I’ve never been the type to hang out in forums like this or engage with online communities, but honestly, life has a way of forcing your hand and pushing you into places you never thought you'd visit.
My mother was diagnosed with cancer exactly eighteen months ago. The doctors initially pushed standard chemotherapy, but my family and Mom decided to go with Makronov in Los Angeles instead, following their specific treatment protocols. Everything seemed to be going fine until about six months ago when she started experiencing intense pain around her spine. An ultrasound showed that the tumorous tissue was pressing against her kidneys; the right side had completely deteriorated, though the left side remained stable. It was all holding steady until YESTERDAY. I was at work when she called me from home, sounding panicked because she had fallen in the kitchen and physically couldn't get back up on her right leg. Then, later that night, her right arm just gave out on her too. It’s absolutely horrific. Nobody seems to have any answers. We rushed her to the Mayo Clinic this morning to figure out what the hell is going on. Has anyone else dealt with something like this? If you have, please reach out—I desperately need to know what we are actually facing here.
Thanks in advance.

The tests will eventually reveal if there’s a neurological component at play, which is definitely on the table. Honestly, just hang tight until those results come back. This preemptive worrying about what "might" be happening is pointless right now—especially considering your mother's medical history, where anything is possible. If I’m being blunt, my gut feeling tells me we could be looking at a stroke. Did she seem slurred or have trouble speaking when you last spoke? This heatwave has been brutal, and these sudden shifts in barometric pressure can really mess with people.
Stay strong and hang in there.😳

crimsonfox102 said:Sending my best to everyone...

I’ve been away for a bit... catching up on some old threads... we haven't heard from Una67 (the mom from Majmilije) in over a month.
I really hope her silence means things are looking up.
My family has been reeling from the loss caused by Glioblastoma, but we’re pulling ourselves together somehow. You know, someone always has to shoulder the heavy end of the grief—trying to pull the mourners back toward reality and balance. My husband lost his father on May 10th of this year. He spends a lot of time at the cemetery, but when he gets home, I try to remind him that there are still plenty of reasons to find joy. There have been times where he’s snapped at me, turning off the radio or telling me I’m being annoying, but I just let the situation settle until I can actually talk to him again. It isn't easy every single time; watching someone die from Glioblastoma drains the soul out of those watching them fade. After months of witnessing that kind of suffering, it’s hard to snap back into daily life and explain that today is still a special day just because the sun is shining, or that someone deserves a smile and a touch because we are still here, living and wanting to live. I can say, thank God we have our two sons; it takes a massive amount of effort to raise them and make sure they don't suffer because of our pain. We finally managed to talk him into going to see Shrek at the theater... and it was wonderful. It made all the effort worth it just to see him laugh from the heart.

Hey crimsonfox102, it's good to see you. I was actually thinking about you just yesterday.🙂 Those drinks you brought over have been a lifesaver for my dad's old aunt; she’s become so frail and barely eats anything. They seem to be keeping her going, and Dad says she seems a little more spirited now.👍

Life keeps moving, but for your husband, that wound is definitely still fresh. It's going to take him a few months to adjust and find his new normal. Honestly, having those two great boys is such a blessing; they give him every reason to stay upbeat, and it’s almost impossible to stay stuck in a dark headspace for long when they're around. That’s part of God's plan. You'll all get through this. I hope you all get a chance to head down to the coast for a vacation soon. I think a trip like that would do you all a world of good.😘

Amanda Williams64 said:Nicole Edwards76, my heart goes out to you.
I’m having a rough one today; I feel an indescribable level of sadness. I guess the tide finally turned. I managed to hold it together for six brave days, but today I just snapped. It’s been hitting me like this for a while now. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.
As you all know, Mom is doing okay for the most part right now. She walks, she talks. But sometimes, it's this specific thing that just breaks me. Hearing her voice. Man, how much that hurts. It’s right there—familiar and warm—and then my mind immediately races to what happens when it's all over...
I’m on this forum every single day. Even though reading things here often leaves me in tears, there's this constant urge pulling me back, over and over again.
Hang in there!

God, everyone, sometimes it’s just so hard. I actually feel guilty even writing to you all about what I’m going through, because I know exactly where you are. I was in those same shoes two years ago, desperately hunting for anything—literally anything—positive regarding Glioblastoma just to find a shred of hope. Back then, I was completely alone with my thoughts since I don't have any siblings, and my dad refused to even touch conversations involving fear or negative thoughts. He handled it that way back then, and looking back, it clearly wasn't the best approach because he’s hit a breaking point now.

From my own experience, I can tell you: try to shut those intrusive thoughts down immediately, or they will absolutely destroy you emotionally. I spent six months in a total mental fog before I started cracking, and honestly, it felt like God sent my Gogić to help redirect my focus. You have to learn to "pre-mourn" your mother. That is the worst thing you can do to yourself, to your loved ones, and especially to your mom.
Eventually, all voices fade—yours and mine included. When the time comes to grieve our loved ones, we will do that then. Doing it now is pointless. No matter who our moms are, they are still here, and we need to be grateful for that—for every single second God grants us with them and for every note of their voices. There is only the present moment, and you have to cling to that fact. You have to accept things as they come and deal with them as they happen, because that's the only way to navigate this trial, even if it feels like this is how we'll have to live for the rest of our lives. You can never plan or think far enough ahead to truly prepare, because nothing ever turns out the way we imagined it would—at least, that's been my reality with my mom's illness and everything it's brought with it. I wasted so much energy trying to plan and prepare that I completely burned myself out.

I get it. I go through these exact phases at least once a month. I come here, I cry it out, and I vent to you all, and someone always points out something vital that opens my eyes and gets me back on the right track.

Sending you a huge hug.😘

Anonymous said:So, is she looking at Stage IV or a Grade III astrocytoma? And what’s this "multicentricum" thing about?😕
Also, is it possible for her to act a bit goofy after surgery—just constantly joking around and laughing?

Look, if the pathology report explicitly says Glioblastoma, then it's Glioblastoma, not an astrocytoma. As for this "multicentricum" term, I'm not entirely sure how they're using it here, but it sounds like the tumor has multiple centers or focal points.😕

As for her acting silly or cracking jokes—yeah, that's definitely possible. We're talking about open-brain surgery here; you can't expect things to stay perfectly normal. Behavior can shift wildly depending on which specific part of the brain was touched or stimulated during the procedure.

Anonymous said:What grade? Sorry if that sounds a bit blunt.

Glioblastoma is basically Grade 4 brain cancer, which falls under the broader umbrella term known as gliomas. For instance, you have things like astrocytoma, which is classified as Grade 3.

I was just as confused by the terminology myself, so I eventually had to get a clear explanation to make sense of it all.

Anonymous said:Once she got the diagnosis, what type and stage were we looking at?
My aunt’s speech is a little slurred right now. 😢 Did the doctors mention there's a chance this is just temporary?

It was Glioblastoma MF, diagnosed exactly two years ago. Right after the surgery, my mom was talking a mile a minute—she wasn't fading at all. But then, about a month and a half later, things just bottomed out and completely leveled off. She didn't have any issues with walking or anything else. For six months—meaning until the recurrence showed up—she was functioning just like a perfectly healthy person.

Anonymous said:The limbic system—on a medial section? There’s no way they could have operated there, right?😳

She went under the knife because they only managed to catch the surface layer. Even though the recurrence was sitting right there at the top of the incision line, they refused to go back in and cut it out. They just told us straight up that it’s simply not something they do.😕 Here’s my take: I don't think they were being helpful. My gut tells me that because my mom flat-out refused oncological treatment immediately following her surgery, they decided to pivot. Once she faced a recurrence, suddenly radiation and Temodal were all they had to suggest. It feels less like a medical evolution and more like a reaction to her initial refusal.

Amanda Williams64 said:(even though her tumor is on the right side, just above the ear)...

Go ahead, take a guess where my mom's tumor is located.🙄
Supposedly, that's the center for all emotions.

Nicole Edwards76 said:I honestly haven't had the strength to reach out until now. Like Angela Wright mentioned, my mom passed away from Glioblastoma last week—exactly one year after her surgery.
Everyone, even though we lost this fight with everything we had, I truly hope you guys win yours. If anyone needs to talk or has questions, please feel free to reach out.
Best,

It’s good to see you here, and I really hope you're holding up okay through all of this. I spent a lot of time today just spiraling, thinking about what it’ll be like when it eventually happens to me and what I'm actually facing... it's probably unimaginable and incredibly heavy.
I really hope you can carve out some time for a summer getaway to clear your head, process everything, and find the strength to keep moving forward. Personally, I am desperate for a break, but it's not happening unless you count this upcoming four-day holiday weekend; my boyfriend is taking me down to Los Angeles, and that's pretty much the extent of my summer plans.

Take care of yourself, you really need it, I know.😘

Hannah Bishop said:Then I'll head out, because my main issue right now is this constant burning sensation when I pee, and honestly, it doesn't even stop when I'm not going.

Just try taking some ibuprofen to take the edge off; it might help you manage the discomfort until you can get your hands on some antibiotics.👍div>

Sam Hall15 said:You're right that they won't list a specific category on the lab report, but look—if you want them to actually grow bacteria in a culture, you need a clean urine sample. It has to be pure, not contaminated by any other fluids, especially not bodily fluids.

So, basically, no cultures during your period.😁 👍

Michelle Cook83 said:Because it could trigger a false positive for hematuria, or blood in the urine.

Isn't that just part of a standard urinalysis😕? I've never actually seen that specific section showing up on a urine culture report—usually, it's just the bacteria and how they react to different antibiotics.
I was thinking maybe it had something to do with the specific reagents used during the testing process, but if you're certain, then I guess you're right.😳

Grace Fowler said:The pain actually let up a bit today, and food isn't my enemy anymore. Honestly, I just love seeing you all here for me—even if what I’m writing is pretty depressing sometimes... this thread has basically become my daily therapy session.
Best to everyone, Grace from the edge of the abyss🙄

It makes me incredibly happy to see you posting, and I look forward to every single update you share.😘
I'm rooting for you.😉

Angela Peterson57 said:The amount you have doesn't matter at all! That’s just nonsense... you can go after three or four days of your period without any issues. Even if there’s some menstrual blood in your urine, it shouldn't make a difference either.

The staff at the clinic told me I should wait until my period is completely over😕, though honestly, I don't see why it matters—it feels like they're being overly cautious about growing a bacterial culture. What does blood have to do with the process?

steeleagle152 said:Hey there!
I have a question. I felt this little lump under my left armpit, and it’s tender when I touch it. It isn't huge—maybe about 3-5 mm if I had to guess.
If anyone has an opinion, please share it. I'm not trying to panic, but I'm not just going to ignore it either. Maybe someone (unfortuantely) has dealt with something similar and can give me some firsthand insight.
Thanks.

Look, you don't have much choice here other than seeing a doctor. It doesn't necessarily mean anything serious; people often claim that if a lump in that area is painful, it's benign (though there isn't actually any solid proof for that theory). Another possibility is that if you use a deodorant containing aluminum chlorohydrate, the way it blocks sweat might have caused a gland to get inflamed and swollen, especially if you applied it right after shaving or waxing.

By the way, aluminum chlorohydrate has been getting a bad reputation lately. There are claims that this compound was found within breast cancer cells, leading to suspicions that it could be a contributing factor to the disease in women. This is particularly relevant because, unlike men, women shave their armpits, which allows the compound to penetrate the body more easily, whereas in men, it tends to just sit on the hair and the surface of the skin.

Go see a gynecologist to get checked out; they can give you a referral for an ultrasound, which will tell you exactly what's going on.

Anonymous said:My aunt is 55, too. How is your mom holding up? Did she have surgery?

😲 my mom fell ill at 55, too...
I’ve already laid out my mother's psychological profile once before. Maybe someone else will find a connection in there. Honestly, a few people dealing with Glioblastoma told me they felt a chill down their spine reading her profile because it felt like they were reading about their own loved ones.

Anonymous said:But hers is Grade IV. 😢I read online that the outlook is incredibly grim 😢 if things continue in this direction, and if they ever actually develop a treatment, I’m terrified it’ll take forever to hit the market.😢

Glioblastoma is Grade IV—the absolute worst kind of brain cancer out there. There is also Grade III, like astrocytoma, and the distinction really comes down to the specific types of nerve cells being hijacked.
Right now, the reality is brutal. The prognosis is terrible, and the odds of getting clinical trials finished in time to actually help our loved ones are slim to none. But looking at the long game? We are going to beat this disease. When I talk about being optimistic, I’m talking about the future—about making sure that when this demon strikes again, we'll have the tools to save them. I view my fight against this cancer as a lifelong mission, just like I've said here before. Even after my mom is gone, I will do everything in my power to do my part in wiping this rot off the face of the earth.😠

Anonymous said:Why haven't you posted, Angela Wright? I really hope her mom is doing better...
Has anyone else here dealt with Glioblastoma in their family?

I'm here.😳
Mom hasn't changed at all. Honestly, I’d give anything just to hear her speak one more time.
In my family, we've dealt with cancer before: my grandfather on my dad's side passed away from melanoma when he was only 45—and that was a type they treat as an outpatient nowadays. Then there was my grandfather on my mom's side who passed at 74 from prostate cancer complications, even though the cancer itself was under control. He had a weak heart and wasn't exactly the most disciplined when it came to taking his meds.

What keeps me going is the thought that back in 1956, people were dying from things that are completely curable today. We'll likely see the same thing happen with Glioblastoma. Research is moving toward developing a vaccine that could turn Glioblastoma into a manageable chronic condition—something you just live with and get booster shots for whenever symptoms flare up. Unlike other cancers, Glioblastoma is actually the perfect candidate for this kind of therapy because it doesn't metastasize to other organs, which usually makes treatment such a nightmare.