Posts by Angela Wright

swiftbear86 said:If I could hand-pick my doctor, I’d want a combination of Felix+Jack+Deloitte all rolled into one person.
Felix brings that measured, calm approach, Jack just lays out the raw facts without any sugarcoating, and Deloitte delivers those cold, hard truths that most of us aren't actually ready to face.

A real doctor needs to strike that balance: enough empathy to care, enough expertise to know their stuff, and enough backbone to ignore the pressure from patients or the bureaucracy within Medicare.

I don't know about Deloitte being like that; I’ve certainly never run into a post quite like it. 😁
What you have to respect is the sheer enthusiasm they show even after a full workday—sharing their knowledge and helping people out through these online forums. You don't see examples like that very often.

Chloe Nguyen3 said:Angela Wright, this thing I'm doing isn't working for me—it feels like just slightly ignoring them is actually getting results for now. I've tried what you wrote at least a couple of times, and there was zero impact. It seems like people need to be ignored before they realize they've crossed a line; it’s tragic on their part, but it works for me. I never thought I'd be the type to ignore someone with a smile on my face without it affecting me emotionally, which is pretty sad if you ask me. I'm evolving... into a caveman.

Then just be direct. Tell them you've politely asked them not to bother you anymore and simply shut down any conversation about it. Be decisive and just walk away.

If it expired back in 2011, then it’s completely worthless now. Just go out and buy some new ones.

Linda Baker51 said:And now something completely different… I don’t think a single day goes by without me reading your posts, our posts. Sometimes I start typing, sometimes I get halfway through, and sometimes I can’t even finish half a sentence before I just give up... most of you don't know "our story"; it started so long ago that even I barely remember the beginning. I know I'm exhausted, totally drained... I know I've had enough of the waiting, the fear every time the phone rings at some ungodly hour... I can't handle the uncertainty anymore, I just can't... I'm worn out by everything—the fears, the hopes, the anticipation, all of it... I just want to live without a care in the world. I want to stop seeing sick people, stop hearing the moans of pain; I want it so badly that I catch myself thinking I don't even want to live anymore, just so I can feel peace, ease... I want to dedicate myself to my own life. You probably think I'm being a selfish bitch, but honestly, after eight years, I'm giving myself permission to feel this way, to wish for it... my own life, my best years passing me by without a fight... I don't feel the need to keep giving myself away like this anymore... I want my youth back; is that so wrong of me? Is it abnormal? I want to spend my afternoons and weekends on myself, with my friends, doing things that actually make me happy, finding the kind of love that hasn't entered my life since this illness arrived... I just want this whole damn thing to be over... one way or another... I simply can't do it anymore, I just can't... I can't carry this burden alone, I just can't... I'm disgusted by everything... I'm sick of it all... I feel like a half-inflated or deflated balloon that doesn't even have the strength left to pop... and here is my biggest confession: I've started to resent her for being sick. Yes, that's it... I've even allowed myself that much... I know, I'm a horrible person, but I just can't help it... and please, don't come at me with all that talk about how she isn't to blame, or how I have to stay strong, or how much I've endured over these years—I know all of that, I am fully aware, but I just can't... frankly, I don't even feel like trying anymore... can you imagine that?

Honey, "carefreeness" is an ideal we made up; it doesn't exist.
Before her illness, there was that time, wasn't there? And then brutal reality hit and the realization set in that something wasn't right.
The truth is, things are never truly okay. That's the realization I reached when I went through exactly what you're going through now. Things happen, but in between those events, you live life with full lungs, pursuing everything you want and need, and no, that isn't selfish. In fact, the way you feel exhausted and half-dead right now is a direct product of the circumstances you've been dealt. Sweetie, today we walk around happy and cheerful, grabbing coffee with friends, and tomorrow we might not have to. There were people who came to visit my mother, thinking they were coming to say goodbye to her, but in the end, it turned out she was the one saying goodbye to them—they passed away suddenly before she did.
It's been five years now since my old woman has been gone; everything stopped. And yes, I wished for her to finally pass away too; I couldn't take it anymore. Every morning I woke up with one thought: "How much longer, Lord? Why all of this, why this kind of life for her and for me..." ...and now she's been gone for five years, she's gone, and it still hurts terribly to think about how it all happened. Even after she died, I had that period where I thought maybe I'd finally have some peace, but then came new phone calls, new bullshit, and big stuff at that... that's life. And since life has a way of throwing a wrench in your plans, don't go making it harder on yourself. Do whatever you need to do, without apology. If you can't do it anymore, don't. Just don't. Grab every hour you can and make them yours.

To be honest, I don't think I'll ever find that spark again. What I miss most isn't just happiness—it's that sense of total, carefree lightness, and losing that is what really cuts deep. Don't get me wrong, I love my child and I show up for them, but that inner joy I used to carry? It's gone. Life's unfairness and the sheer weight of the pain I've endured just crushed it. I’m terrified that since my child didn't bring it back to me, it’s gone for good. I feel like I'm living as a fraction of the person I used to be, and because of that, my husband will never truly know the whole version of me. Maybe the fault lies with me; maybe I lost it because I didn't take care of myself enough, or because I spent so much energy fighting against universal truths that you simply have to accept if you ever want to move forward with your life.

dustymarlin10 said:The answer to your question?

It’s the guy who prescribes based on his own gut feeling rather than following some kickback scheme or a pharmaceutical rep's script...

Then please, walk me through your logic. How can you possibly be so sure? What if a doctor uses their own judgment and looks at actual clinical studies, deciding one company just makes better medicine than others? They might prefer certain brands because the quality is objectively higher, not because they're being bribed or following a manual.

dustybear14 said:Hey everyone,

First off, sorry if I'm doubling up on an existing thread—I haven't had the bandwidth to hunt through the subforums right now, so maybe the mods can move this if needed.
I don't have the time to dig for the exact thread I need at this moment, 😢

So, here's the deal: I've got two bottles of valerian tincture that are past their expiration date.
I really need to take them, but I'm a bit paranoid because they're expired.

I tried a tiny amount mixed with water this morning, and honestly, it tasted exactly like the last time I used it.
But what about the effects? Am I going to poison myself? Sleep for a century? Or will it just do absolutely nothing?

Thanks for any insight.

Warm regards Manubis
dustybear14

When did they actually expire?
Generally speaking, tinctures made at a pharmacy and kept in a cool, dark spot are usually safe to use for about 2-3 months past the printed date.
Either way, I highly doubt anything catastrophic is going to happen to you.

Chloe Nguyen3 said:Hey everyone!
Here’s the short version: I’m dealing with malignant melanoma, Clark / Breslow III. They removed the mole, then had to go back in for a second surgery to widen the margins and clear out more tissue, including taking two lymph nodes from under my armpit. So far, the results look okay—I haven't had radiation or chemo yet. It seems like I pulled through, but only time will tell. I’m hoping for the best. All in all, I feel physically and mentally stable. I’ve even headed back to work. What’s actually eating at me is the environment—specifically, certain people at the office who remind me of my illness on a daily basis. I’ve tuned out most of them, but there’s this one high-ranking individual who is obsessed with my health status. She jumps at every single opportunity to lecture me about every tiny detail of my medical condition. Look, I’m a fighter, and I’m a person of faith; I know God has been protecting me from the very start, because honestly, it’s a mystery to me how I’m navigating all of this with such incredible ease. Thank Him.
But seriously, I’m starting to get fed up with this person’s "soul-searching" interference, where she constantly tries to "wound" me by meddling in things that aren't her business. I’ve realized it’s really starting to get to me, and after her monologues, I find myself feeling totally scattered. It’s time to push back a little harder and politely tell her to "back off." It’s a delicate situation because this is someone I used to report to before I got sick, and since I took an extended medical leave, I requested a transfer because that specific role was incredibly stressful—something that definitely doesn't help while fighting this disease. This means there's a real possibility that once I'm fully recovered, I might end up back in that same position. So, how do I perform this "surgery" without making a mess or being unnecessarily harsh?
Thanks for any suggestions,
Best, Chloe Nguyen3.

Stay classy. Next time she starts up, just explain that you’re doing well now and that your doctor’s advice is to focus on living life rather than dwelling on the past, because extra stress is literally bad for your recovery. Thank her sincerely for her support and concern, then ask for her understanding and express a desire to move on to more positive topics. Frame it as a lesson learned from your own experience: that it’s vital to live every day to the fullest and enjoy the little things in life.

Chloe Gray5 said:Hey everyone, I haven't posted in a while, but luckily I have some great news to share 🙂. My dad is recovering; after two amputations and daily radiation, he's getting better every single day. The cancer has retreated, his prothrombin time is finally stabilizing, he's eating again, and he's getting stronger by the hour. His pressure sores and wounds are almost closed, and once they heal, they'll go in to clear out those clots in his other leg. Once that's settled, it's just pure recovery ahead—physical therapy and getting him back on his feet with a walker.
I am just so incredibly happy that everything is finally falling into place and that he survived everything they said he wouldn't.

And I also wanted to say that you have to keep believing and holding onto hope, even when everyone else is telling you it's over! You have to believe in our loved ones because they can truly surprise us when we least expect it.
Sending strength, courage, and faith to all of you. 🙂

Man, I was actually wondering how you guys were doing, but I didn't want to be intrusive and ask. I am seriously so glad to hear things are looking up. Your dad is a total warrior 🙂 He’ll be around for a long time and will probably spend that time driving you crazy just like always 😉

Nancy Lee said:I’ve already mentioned that my dad has small cell. So far, he’s finished two rounds of chemo—which he handled pretty well—and 25 radiation sessions. On the very last day of radiation, he actually felt something; he noticed a lump on his neck, and they immediately did a biopsy and confirmed it was a lymph node metastasis. After that, he started a third, more aggressive round of chemo. He struggled with this one a bit more—he was vomiting and couldn't eat or drink anything on the second day—but by the third day, he was doing okay again.
Now, about this metastasis... I'm honestly furious. He spent a month and a half bedridden at a clinic in Jordanovac, and in the end, he was the one who actually caught the lump himself. Now I’m spiraling, wondering if that's the only spot. They haven't sent him off for any extensive follow-up imaging. Would a PET scan help pinpoint exactly how much and where it has spread? It makes no sense to me that they just left things as they were after discovering a metastasis. He’s heading back to the city in three weeks for more tests and his fourth round of chemo.
And another thing: up until now, the doctor has been incredibly positive. Everything seemed to be going so well. After the first chemo, there was no further spread, and after the second round and about ten sessions of radiation, when they re-checked everything, she even told me things had shrunk a little. So how does this happen out of nowhere? I know with small cell everything can change in an instant, but this has completely blindsided us. Does this metastasis mean it's heading toward his brain, or can we still somehow stop it or at least slow it down?

Hang in there, Lili. With this diagnosis, things usually just slow down rather than stop entirely.😢
I don't even know what else to tell you; you pretty much see the whole picture yourself. There is a standard treatment protocol, and since this new site—this new metastasis—has appeared, they decided the previous therapy resulted in a relapse. Consequently, they've moved him to a second line of treatment. Even if they had done a PET scan and found more spots, their move would likely be the same; he would have received this same continuation of therapy regardless.
That said, please sit down and talk everything through with the doctor, including those scans and what specifically they might reveal.
As for this idea of it "heading" toward the brain, it doesn't really work like that. Cancer cells are circulating in the bloodstream, so a metastasis can pop up anywhere. It doesn't travel like a bus hitting specific stops along a route. This is a systemic issue happening at a cellular level throughout the entire body.
Let's just hope this new approach yields better results and that things can stabilize and stay quiet for as long as possible.

restlessorca36 said:Morning,
the mule isn't showing any symptoms yet. The kids will take another dose in a few days just to be safe, and I felt fine by the second day. No itching, and I checked my stool this morning and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Last night, I went so heavy on the garlic that I actually felt nauseous. It’s a good thing I reacted immediately, otherwise, it would have really messed me up. We just have to push through another month and a half, then I'll consider actual medication if things get bad. I'm also thinking about taking some kind of probiotic just in case there's something stuck in my gut that needs flushing out. What do you guys think?

Don't do it. You don't want to risk triggering muscle contractions that could lead to premature labor. Just leave things as they are for now and keep a close eye on your bowel movements. Stick to strict hygiene—boil all the laundry and bedding. Grab some hand sanitizer from CVS and make sure everyone in the house is washing their hands constantly.

restlessorca36 said:Angela Wright, I took your advice and gave the hospital a call. My infectious disease specialist told me to hold off on any medication until after I give birth, so what I’m doing right now is honestly my only option. I’m banking on garlic helping me get through this; my husband is already scouring the local Whole Foods looking for organic garlic because he refuses to let me eat that China C30 stuff. 🙂

The most important thing is making sure you don't cause any harm to the child. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't touch homeopathy with a ten-foot pole.

What does this mean for everyone else living under the same roof? If you’re stuck in a cycle of constant reinfection, what's the game plan? Are we looking at a situation where someone has to stay on such an aggressive treatment regimen indefinitely just to stay ahead of the infection?

Kimberly Edwards38 said:z

I really appreciate the response, even though I know I don't have any hard data to work with right now. I'll definitely pass along what you said regarding the drug testing.
It’s still up in the air whether he'll undergo surgery or not. They're supposed to make that call at Mayo Clinic next week.
But honestly... does the surgery even make sense?
Mr. Zapavo hasn't changed his habits or his diet one bit since getting sick, despite my attempts to suggest things I've read in the literature. They just stick strictly to whatever the doctor dictates—he goes for chemo, and that's the end of it. Actually, they've actually paused his treatment for the moment until we see what the specialists in New York decide.

Surgery absolutely makes sense if there's actually something physical that can be removed. Regardless of the outcome, continuing oncological treatment is non-negotiable; the real question is whether they'll go with Avastin and/or Erbitux, or if they take a more pragmatic, bureaucratic approach—assuming surgery happens—and opt for a different therapy altogether.
As for lifestyle changes and attitudes, that's a deeply personal matter. From what I've seen, blindly following every single command from a doctor isn't always the best path, but if someone chooses to live their life a certain way, you have to accept that choice and respect it.

I really don't think you should be relying on homeopathy or any kind of folk remedies here. You need to get an infectious disease specialist to weigh in immediately—and if they don't take you seriously, make some noise about it. You're pregnant, so even if you end up overreacting a bit, 😉
will give you a pass.

Kimberly Edwards38 said:Hey there.
I'm looking for some insight here—what kind of prognosis are we talking about when someone deals with colon cancer that has already spread to the lungs and liver, even after they've gone through surgery, had a stoma placed, and finished a few rounds of chemo?
So, here’s the deal with my father-in-law. I don't have his lab results handy right now, but I can give you the gist of what's happening following his PET scan. He lives out near Slidell, Louisiana, and has been receiving treatment at the local hospital there, but now his oncologist is referring him to the Mayo Clinic to see a surgeon. They need to determine if they can move forward with surgery to address those metastases.
Beyond just the prognosis, I'm trying to wrap my head around why Dubrava was specifically recommended. Is there actually a solid reason behind that choice, or is it just one of those things?
Thanks a lot.

Dealing with metastatic disease is a massive hurdle in its own right. When things reach this stage, the prognosis naturally takes a hit because you're no longer just fighting a single localized issue—you're facing a much more complex, systemic battle that’s inherently harder to manage.

In the US, we've actually rolled out targeted therapy options for treating metastatic colorectal cancer. Avastin i/ili Erbitux If the K-RAS test on the tumor tissue comes back as wild type—meaning that specific mutation isn't present and the drug actually has something to target—which one is indicated?

I need to point out one crucial moment.It’s happened quite a few times where people who had their metastases surgically removed were flat-out denied these medications. In my opinion, it comes down to pure, cold-blooded bureaucracy—just a way for insurance companies to save a buck because of some loophole in the regulations. The rules state these drugs are intended for metastatic diseases, but they fail to specify whether that applies to patients who have already had those metastases successfully cleared through surgery. From a strictly medical standpoint, though... These people are dealing with metastatic disease. Both of these drugs are incredibly pricey, yet they sit right there on the hospital formulary. It’s exactly why they cut corners on patient care—it's unjustifiable.
Keep this in mind: when you're looking into treatment options, make sure they run a K-RAS test before starting anything like Erbitux. It’s non-negotiable.

vividsailor7 said:Everything you said holds water; I just prefer to call it reality. Obviously, anything can happen.
Personally, I think being direct is the best way to handle it. You obviously shouldn't just walk in and say, "Hey, your dad has liver cancer," and then bolt out of the room. You need empathy, sure, but there’s such a thing as going too far.

vividsailor7, I'm convinced your colleagues said the exact same things you did. People come to places like this because they want that slightly expanded narrative—the one that offers a glimmer of hope. You have to admit, it isn't unrealistic or impossible regardless of what the statistics say; it fundamentally shifts the psychological landscape, which is what ultimately drives the whole situation.

Based on what I’ve seen from people undergoing cancer treatment, the most effective ways to tackle nausea are usually:
crushed flaxseeds soaked in warm water for about thirty minutes (just drink the strained liquid), air-popped popcorn made in an inexpensive air popper, or even Coca-Cola.
The absolute priority is hydration; you have to take it slow, just a teaspoon of water at a time. If the reaction gets this violent, don't hesitate to call 911. At that point, they need an IV and potentially something to help them relax. normabel works quite well—even the lower dose—because it helps ease muscle spasms, which naturally settles the stomach too.
The pain they're feeling is actually to be expected; the stomach is completely unsettled, and the physical strain of vomiting takes a massive toll on the entire body.
It would also be wise to take Pepto-Bismol preventively for stomach protection. You can pick it up over the counter, but regardless, you absolutely must clear it with the oncologist first to ensure there aren't any drug interactions.

Mark Hall10 said:Honestly, lucky you if you don't have to deal with them! I mean, sure, there are exceptions, but at the hospital I’ve been forced to visit lately, it is absolute chaos—nobody knows who's in charge or who's paying the bills! You've got cleaning staff acting like they own the place and surgeons, while the nurses act like they're the chief of medicine. Trying to actually see a doctor is basically impossible, and the nurses won't even give you a straight answer on whether a patient has eaten or not! Day after day, I hear more and more people expressing the exact same frustrations I am.

Oh, absolutely, that is the cold, hard truth. But honestly, it really depends on the specific department. If you get a solid Chief of Medicine, the whole unit runs like a Rolex. For instance, over at Mayo Clinic under the Knight, there is this intense rush right before rounds where everything gets scrubbed, polished, and organized perfectly. There is a strict hierarchy and protocol in place, and nobody deviates from it.

It’s probably just dyshidrosis. You can find a whole thread ovdje covering it.

Casey Phillips18 said:Where are those statistics coming from? I’m genuinely curious about the survival rates for people dealing with lung carcinoma that has already spread to the bones. And I’m not talking about that vague one-year prognosis doctors usually throw out when they suggest starting chemo.

You might find some info here: http://lungcancer.about.com/od/whati...vivalrates.htm

To back up my point, let me give you a real-world example from my own family. This past summer, my uncle living in the US was diagnosed with advanced acute myeloid leukemia, and it was riddled with metastases. The medical team pushed aggressive chemotherapy, estimating he only had about three months left to live. He took the leap, went through the treatment, and the response was nothing short of incredible. The metastases retreated, and the disease is currently under control. Now, he’s lined up for a stem cell transplant, which should hopefully push him into full remission.

ivona, I can’t help but soften the blow of vividsailor7’s typical, blunt doctor-speak 🙂. He doesn't mean to be harsh, but his directness often feels more like he's just throwing facts at you rather than offering the sliver of hope people are actually desperate to hear from a physician.

Look, lung carcinoma is a heavy diagnosis. If you look strictly at the statistics, the outlook is incredibly grim—especially once metastases enter the picture... BUT...

it isn't a fixed destiny, and it doesn't have to play out that way, even with metastasis.

When we talk about statistics for something as common as lung carcinoma, we're looking at massive data sets involving thousands of patients. That statistical curve isn't just one single point; it has a middle, an average, and two very distinct ends. On the left side, you have those who succumb early, and on the right side, you have those who are still fighting and living their lives. That group on the right might look small compared to the average, but don't mistake "small" for "non-existent." No doctor can tell you with absolute certainty that you won't end up on that right side of the curve. That possibility is exactly why we treat metastatic disease in the first place. You have to push forward, keep fighting, and aim for that right side of the graph!