We all know those days... the kind where everything just falls apart, and you’re left clawing around in the dark looking for answers that just aren't there. It looks like my husband is going to hold off on chemo until all his lab results are finalized. He realized the cancer is back, and honestly, it just crushed him. I did manage to get through to him a bit, though—had a long talk to try and lift his spirits and convince him that we still have to fight this.
Just checking in to share some good news and hopefully give a little hope to anyone fighting this or watching someone they love go through it. I started lurking on this forum around April when we first found out my dad had throat cancer. Honestly, back then, I couldn't even bring myself to type a word about it. My whole world just imploded. I was scouring these boards looking for any kind of supplement or alternative cure. It all started with this tiny little lump on the right side of his face over a year ago. He wouldn't see a doctor—he never goes to the doctor. He’s one of those guys who thinks he’s invincible, never gets sick, never complains about anything... a total typical stubborn American guy. We were all losing our minds trying to force him to get checked out. It kept growing until it reached 😉 a point where it actually deformed his face. He couldn't eat or breathe properly anymore, and he dropped from 185 lbs down to about 110. That’s when he finally gave in and went to the hospital. The tests were a nightmare. Chemo wasn't even an option because the tumor was too close to a major artery and they were terrified it would rupture. They basically just started circling the wagons and scheduled him for radiation two months out. We were freaking out. You could tell they had already written him off; they weren't giving him even a shred of a chance. After a lot of begging and crying at the Mayo Clinic, they finally agreed to move his radiation up by a month just for me, my sister, and my mom. And I will never, ever forget what the doctor told my mom. He looked her straight in the eye and said, "Look, I'll give him the strongest therapy we have, but even that won't help." Just chillingly blunt. Total horror movie vibes. Anyway, long story short, he did his radiation from June 16th to August 8th. This past Tuesday, the results finally came in—they'd been sending him to specialized clinics in Houston for the last couple of weeks because the local imaging was confusing and they wanted better equipment. And there was nothing. Nothing. The tumor is gone. The metastases? Receded. My old man doesn't have a tumor anymore!!! The doctor was totally floored. He kept staring at the scans, checking the patient, looking at the files... he literally couldn't believe his eyes that the tumor vanished that fast. At the end, he actually shook my dad's hand, and you could see the tears in the doc's eyes. Can you blame him? They'd already given up on the guy. So yeah, I guess this falls into one of those "miracle" categories. I just wanted to say: don't lose hope. Seriously, you can't stop believing that healing is possible. I have way more to say later, but for now, 🙂 hang in there. Stay strong, keep smiling (even though that was the hardest part), and stay certain that recovery is real.🙂
So happy for your dad, and I pray it stays that way.
I honestly don't get any of this anymore. I talked to the doctor, and he’s acting like everything is just fine (???)—but then last Wednesday, he tells me my husband has a new tumor (???). Now we’re just sitting around waiting on the results from a bronchoscopy... I'm so over it. It's not like I'm uneducated or stupid; I can handle things when they hit the fan, I really can. But right now? I have zero clue what's actually happening. I don't even know how to act or what to think. This isn't some game. If patients are nothing more than statistics to these people, they've got it wrong. Every single one of them is a human being with their own fears, a person with a family going through absolute hell. These are real lives! I’m not—and even if I were, who cares!—some unstable, weak person, and I have every right to the truth, no matter how ugly it is. I can't keep playing games in this fog. What am I supposed to do? Just spiral? Doubt every single thing they say? The worst part is when they just leave you hanging in the dark!
Nancy Hernandez43 said:My family and I are hitting that same wall right now—that constant, nagging fear that we’re missing something obvious, like we’re just closing our eyes and praying we aren't wrong. We've got a PET/CT scan scheduled for two days from now. My dad finally saw the latest test results, but man, it's rough watching him try to act like he believes everything is fine while you can clearly see the terror in his eyes. So yeah, I totally get that shock and the panic and the "this can't be happening" feeling you're going through. I finally took off the rose-colored glasses a couple of days ago, and now I'm just bracing for impact.
Hang in there, stay strong!
I'm trying to stay tough, but honestly, my brain is just mush at this point. They were supposed to drain the pleural effusion in my husband, but they haven't done it, and they won't. I have no clue why they're stalling. It's just sitting there, basically for a week now. He's having a bronchoscopy today. Once that's over, I'm calling his doctor to demand some actual answers. I'm terrified they'll just dodge my questions and discharge him straight home after the procedure without any plan or treatment. I'm scared they'll just let him walk out the door without even trying to help him.
frozencobra25;16032173 said: My dad was a total hero. He fought until his very last breath, and he wasn't alone—he had me and my mom right there by his side through all of it. He finally just drifted off, exhausted and worn out, leaving that struggling body behind. In a word? He’s at peace.
I am so incredibly sorry for your loss.
I was at the hospital with my husband yesterday, and man, I thought my heart was actually going to snap. Seeing him just staring off, looking so scared... it kills you. I’m sitting there acting like I’ve got it all together, trying to be the strong one for him, when honestly? I feel like screaming my head off. I cried all night long. Even the kids were crying, everyone just retreated into their own little corners, lost in their own worlds.. It’s heavy. Like, really heavy. But I’m not folding. I’ve got that grit in me. The doctor is coming by today, so we'll see what the verdict is. Last week they needed to drain some fluid from his lungs, but they didn't get to it. They’re supposed to do it under ultrasound guidance this time. Who knows what's gonna happen.
God, I was so incredibly naive thinking we actually won, even though I’m practically an expert on this whole disease by now. But man, you just want to believe in what you're hoping for. And honestly? I had a reason to be optimistic. My husband was doing so well. On Wednesday, he ended up back at Jordanovac. The cancer is back. It's hit the exact same spot it did four years ago. They're doing a bronchoscopy on Monday, so we'll see what the verdict is then. Today he’s getting some fluids drained because of a pleural effusion. It's just awful. It completely knocked the wind out of me. But it's not like four years ago. Not even close. My husband isn't physically or mentally anywhere near where he was back then. I have no idea how he's going to take the news, since they haven't told him anything yet.
Donna Chase said:The Los Angeles Times ran this story on the back page today about some miracle drops that supposedly saved Bill Belichick from Austria. Apparently, these drops shrank his lung tumor from a massive 12x12 cm down to just 3 mm, even though it had already spread to his liver. They call the drops Kant, and they're made by Mark Wahlberg over at Dil Mar 19 in Pittsburgh. They're charging about 100 bucks a bottle.
I'm not buying this "miracle drop" nonsense. Seriously, who actually has a cure for cancer? If someone actually held the key to curing carcinoma, they’d be the most famous, wealthiest person on the planet. They wouldn't be out here preying on sick people, forcing them to rack up debt or sell off their houses just to get a bottle. Where is the decency? If someone actually finds a way to help people deal with an illness—like, you know, making the suffering manageable—shouldn't they be doing it to help, not just to make a massive profit off of it?
Ashley Reyes87 said:Hey everyone, I haven't caught up on everything you guys said because there’s way too much to read, so I hope you don't mind me just jumping in here.
I'm honestly freaking out a bit and could really use some advice or if anyone has gone through something similar. My boyfriend has been dealing with these brutal headaches at the back of his head, right above the neck, for about four months now. He refuses to take any meds because he doesn't want to get hooked on them, so he's basically just white-knuckling the pain. Maybe I'm being a little paranoid since quite a few people on my mom's side have dealt with cancer (on her side, specifically, but still...), but then I saw this segment on 24 Hours News where a woman pointed out an eye tumor just by looking at a photo—how the eye looked "off" in every shot—and suddenly I realized that in most photos, my boyfriend's right eye looks kind of blurry like that too. He wears glasses, so when he's wearing them, you can't see anything, but in a lot of shots taken with a flash, his eyes come out looking exactly like that. I haven't even mentioned it to him yet; he'd probably think I'm losing my mind, and besides, he's being stubborn about seeing a doctor.
What should I do? How do I stay calm without spiraling, and how do I actually get him to listen? Has anyone dealt with this before? Please, tell me anything. 😢
Look, your guy seriously needs to get some tests done. Don't go straight to the worst-case scenario, though. It could easily be something like his cervical spine or maybe some blood vessel issues.
rapidseal49 said:Look, I wrote this a while back, so I’m basically just quoting myself here...
The nightmare just keeps going...
After months of being hammered with chemo and dealing with the absolute wreck it made of him (vomiting, headaches, and the worst part—diarrhea, like 10 times a day) things just kept sliding downhill... He dropped nearly 110 lbs, lost all his strength, he's even using crutches now...
I gotta be straight with you guys and admit that at no point did he actually follow the doctor's orders, specifically regarding DIET. Because of poor nutrition, he developed that Chronov disease back in puberty, and because of bad eating, he got cancer (since he was strictly told no alcohol, no meat, etc.), and he didn't follow those rules even 1% of the time. Because of the bad food, he... isn't going to heal.
I get it, disease is this monster that takes everything from you, but I think—and it's easy to play smart after the fact—that a lot more could have been done. I used to bring him books about nutrition, tried talking to him about macrobiotics and stuff (since I eat pretty clean myself and hit the gym... so I know a thing or two), but nothing moved the needle...
He just went(?) to his chemo sessions and called it a day...
Today... his doctor pulled the plug on the treatment... I think everyone here knows exactly what that means...😢
It’s tough to help someone if they aren't willing to help themselves. Especially with chemo, he really needed to eat healthy just to keep his immune system from bottoming out. Still, it's not over yet. He probably just lost the will to fight, but you have to find a way to spark that. Try talking to him every day without pushing him too hard, try hitting him with positivity and stories of people who actually beat this stuff. Don't go in guns blazing. Just slowly start introducing a solid, nutritious diet. When my husband was going through chemo, he couldn't stand the sight of food either. It was just gross to him. Honestly, just prep some food and let him eat whatever little amount he can manage.
First off, if you’ve got weak nerves, just skip this. Seriously. If you need to stay positive, keep scrolling. My head is a mess right now.
Technically, my own health is fine... But someone close to me, my everything... He's waiting on scans, imaging, some kind of initial diagnosis to see if it's bone cancer or what...
I'm secondary here. In front of him, I can't let myself fall apart. I have to be the strong one.
But I'm terrified. Scared out of my mind. I don't know how to help, what to do, or how to make this easier... And then there's the money. It's not even about having the cash—we could find the money—but is it enough? If the worst happens and this turns out to be bone cancer, will we actually have enough to save him? I've heard stories where cancer just drains everything you have.
What do I even do? How does something like this even happen?
The official word so far: they found spots on the bone in his arm, and the results are being sent to New York City for review...
And that's not even the worst part. I was stupid enough to go looking for answers on some online chatroom... Honestly, those people should be shut down. The conversation went like this: "Bones are interconnected, bone cancer is dangerous, it spreads fast, and patients usually only get 3-4 months." Then they started saying treatment is insanely expensive—like $7,000 a month at private clinics—and that it's the only shot at survival. To top it all off, some creep offered to donate $2,500 in exchange for sexual favors... It was disgusting. I was just looking for info! Is it true? Do people really only have 3-4 months left??????
I read somewhere that treatment involves chemo combos and amputations. And if they can't amputate the bone, they use radiation...
Sorry for dumping this here, I've just been in total shock for two days straight...
I need facts. Not that patronizing stuff where people try to comfort you by saying "it'll be fine." I need the hard truth. How dangerous is this? Does it spread that fast because of how bones are linked? Is that 3-4 month timeline real? Is there actually hope? Can someone on an average salary even afford this? I want to know what we're facing if this is confirmed. I want... I don't even know what I want, I just want the truth.
The GP basically told me, under a lot of pressure, that there's an 80% chance it's bone cancer...
What am I supposed to do???
Can anyone give me actual, concrete advice? Anything important?
Again, sorry for the meltdown.
Thanks in advance.
Girl, thanks for starting this thread. REALLY.
Everything is just... what, how, where, why... 😕😲🙂😱
The uncertainty is brutal, but please, hold onto hope. Be brave, regardless of what those results say. This isn't the end of the world. There is always tomorrow, and there is always a fight for tomorrow. You can't think too far ahead right now; it's just about fighting for the next twenty-four hours. One day at a time. Miracles happen, they really do. And remember: in medicine, two plus two doesn't always equal four.
rowdynomad92 said:Did you guys try any alternative stuff, or was it strictly conventional medicine? Honestly, reading through the whole thing was pretty intense, but that last part really hit home!!
We stuck strictly to the doctor's playbook—chemo, radiation, and whatever meds he put on the prescription pad. I was honestly terrified of messing with alternative treatments; I didn't want to risk the disease progressing when I don't even know how that world works. Along with the medical stuff, we just focused on boosting his immune system, mostly using natural supplements, and we cut out red meat entirely—no pork or beef for us. My logic was simple: you've gotta believe the body's immune system can be strong enough to fight the battle on its own. Last time we were over at Jordan, they asked if my husband was seeing anyone else for treatment. Nope. He goes to Jordan once every four months just for his check-ups.
When we first got the diagnosis three and a half years ago, everyone had basically written my husband off. He had this tumor about the size of a man's fist that was messing with his trachea and right bronchus. It was brutal. He couldn't stop coughing, he was choking, and he’d be hacking up fresh blood. It was a nightmare. Chemo and radiation absolutely kicked his ass. We went through everything: the pain, the vomiting, the diarrhea, sores, high fevers... just all of it. But we just took it one thing at a time, dealing with every single symptom as it hit us. As for the bureaucracy? Forget it. There wasn't a damn thing I could do to get them to help. On top of everything else this illness threw at us, those people just made life harder. Instead of actually solving problems—which is literally what they get paid to do—they just stood in the way. No, seriously, they’re just cold, heartless bureaucrats who act like they’re invincible. Like they think sickness can't touch them. But honestly, who knows if you’ll even wake up healthy tomorrow? If there's one thing I've learned, it's that when you're fighting a disease, nobody is coming to save you except your family. To keep things moving for my husband, I always have to stay one step ahead of the doctors. I pretty much jump in and present them with a finished plan before they even realize what's happening. My husband is doing great now. He looks good, though he gets some bone pain every now and then (I figure that, along with his moodiness, is just the weather changing). He moves around fine, drives his car, goes fishing... If you didn't know his history, you'd never guess he ever had cancer. And man, they really thought he was a goner!
Nancy Thomas18 said:Hey everyone, hope you're doing alright... technology can be such a pain sometimes. My computer totally crapped out on me and I was left hanging. I actually missed my last chemo session, unfortunately... after the seventh round, the nausea and weakness were just too much to handle. Now I’m back in for checkups, and my CEA is high again, plus my liver numbers look like they belong to an old alcoholic... I still have to go in for a CT scan with contrast, and honestly, everything is just starting to feel kind of meaningless. I even stopped taking the propolis and Enshure, and I swear it feels like someone is literally sucking the life out of me through a straw...
Look, this is just a rough patch and it'll pass. Things will get better tomorrow. That's how it worked for my husband. You just get these good days and bad days that trade places. It sucks, it really does, but it passes. Don't let it get you down. My husband used to drink whey—just one glass a day—to help clean out his liver. It actually helped him. We finally got the CT results back. Thank God, nothing's happening. The tumor is the exact same size (2 cm x 1.3 cm). It hasn't changed in three years. No metastasis. The abdomen looks fine. Heart X-ray came back clear, too. Thank God.
Kimberly Green23 said:My stepfather lost his battle today. Honestly, the only silver lining is that he didn't suffer for too long. We could sit here all day debating if there was some hidden strength left in him to keep fighting, but that’s just not how it went down—he just ran out of steam and let go. He wouldn't let us pull him back from that haze. I really want to thank Melissa Kim45 and Agna for being there for me, and of course, all the other ladies on this forum who stepped up with advice. I'll be hanging around to see what you guys say, and I'll try to chime in with help whenever I can.
I'm so sorry, buhtlica. You did everything humanly possible. I'm sure your stepfather knew that, too.
So, my husband went in for a chest and abdominal CT scan this past Friday (08.08) at our local general hospital. Honestly? The whole experience was just horrific. They kept badgering him for his previous scans, but all he had were the discharge papers from Jordanovac, since every single one of his records is sitting over there. We’ve never even laid eyes on the actual imaging. His last CT was two years ago, which showed everything was fine, but we don't have any other results on hand. It's my husband we're talking about, and he just gave them what he actually had—those discharge papers. And then, the medical staff at the CT department just started unloading on him. It was like being caught in a firing squad. They were telling him he should just go back to Jordanovac to get his scans done, questioning his right to even be there, and demanding whose recommendation he was following. And look, the recommendation came from an internist based on a pulmonologist's opinion from Jordanovac! All of this, mind you, while they were shouting and yelling at him, only to drop this bombshell at the end: "Sir, you are extremely sick." I mean, who gives them the right to say something like that? My husband is a complete wreck now. He’s spiraling because they told him he was seriously ill, so now he's convinced they saw something terrifying. Since when do they get to decide who's allowed to have a CT scan? If we can't get it done here, where are we supposed to go? We've lived in this area our entire lives. And seriously, what gives them the right to pick fights with a patient who's already dealing with a heavy illness? Did they skip the entire psychology module in med school or something? Where is the decency... On top of that, the results aren't due until Friday, 08.15, which is a holiday for Our Lady. Great. So, I guess we won't see anything until Monday, 08.18. Is it normal everywhere else to wait ten days for a CT result? Because this feels insane.
briskskipper71 said:Hey everyone I’ve got a question about this old guy I know. He’s eighty, and after smoking for over sixty years, he ended up with lung cancer. Since I'm mostly hearing things through my grandma, and the people involved aren't exactly scholars, I don't have all the specifics. All I know is it's squamous cell carcinoma, he did ten days of radiation, and he’s had three rounds of chemo. After that third round, he started dealing with this diarrhea that just won't quit—even after fifteen days on a strict diet and taking Linex and Ercefuryl. It’s absolutely draining him, so I'm wondering: could this be a direct side effect of the chemo? And if it is, what can actually fix it?
Diarrhea, vomiting, nausea, and just feeling totally grossed out by food are classic side effects of chemo. Usually, that stuff lasts about ten days. My husband went through those exact symptoms after his chemo under the MIC protocol. But honestly, when he was on Taxotere, the side effects were way worse. It wasn't even the nausea as much as it was the bone pain... the pelvic area... it was brutal. But look, it passes. You just have to focus on boosting the immune system afterward so the body is ready to handle the next round.
I’ve heard plenty of talk about all these different diets, but honestly, I’ve always been pretty sketched out by them. I don't know, I just get this feeling that you might end up totally draining your system. You need to be pouring everything into building up your immune system so it can actually fight the disease. We've been focusing entirely on boosting immunity to keep things from getting worse, and so far, it's actually working.