Posts by Lisa White54

brightgardener8 said:I was wondering where you went... but honestly, everything makes sense now. We’re just grinding through some impossible stuff right now. I really hope we all get back to some kind of normal eventually.

Man, that sucks. When you're stuck in these kinds of impossible situations, you can't help but wonder where the hell you're even getting the strength to keep going.
Hang in there, everyone.

Thomas Alvarez19 said:So, I guess I'm finally checking in after about 6 months.
Dad went through four rounds of chemo, and they also did a bronchoscopy and a CT scan.
The scans came back, and honestly, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. The main tumor actually shrank just a tiny bit, which is something, I guess, but there’s a catch. Two metastases popped up—one on the ribs and another one on the left lung. Just when you think you're making progress, the body decides to throw a curveball.
So, Dad tried taking that second round of chemo today, and man, it went south fast. He reacted so badly he almost slipped into a coma or something. The doctor saw how bad it was, pulled the plug on the whole thing, and basically told him they aren't sending him back for any more chemo. It’s just one of those things, I guess.
Dad's mental and physical health was already hitting rock bottom, and then Mom discovering that pancreatic cancer just added fuel to the fire.
I need some advice... who should I even talk to? Because according to my doctor, I'm basically a lost cause.

This is a seriously heavy situation. Honestly, I don't even know where else you could turn. Unfortunately, you just have to deal with it. Just try to make sure every single moment is packed with love. Illness is unpredictable and sneaky—it’s one of those things where you can never truly see it coming. You’re never on solid ground with it. There's no way to predict what tomorrow will look like. That’s why you should spend as much time as possible with your parents today; give them all the love and attention you've got. And then, every new morning, you start over again. Forget about making plans or trying to forecast everything. It’s exhausting and, frankly, pointless. Just stay brave and stay strong.

Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:You've got it wrong—speaking from my own experience, I can tell you that a PET scan often gives false positives. My husband had several lesions surgically removed based on that scan, but the pathology later confirmed they were negative, meaning totally healthy tissue.

A PET scan doesn't actually spot malignant tumors; it just picks up cells that are gobbling up radioactive sugar. And that isn't just cancer cells—it could be anything happening in the body, like inflammation or a benign tumor.

So, keep in mind that those results might not actually mean anything. Have faith and don't let panic take over—that’s the most important thing!

I'm not panicking, it's just confusing. I can't make sense of any of this. The CT showed one thing, the bronchoscopy showed something else, and now the PET scan is saying a third thing. It's just throwing me into total limbo. And don't even get me started on my husband.
Hope is what has kept us going all this time. We're going to get back on our feet and fight for Tomorrow. I'm feeling better today and I'm soaking up all the positive energy I can so I can stay Braveheart and keep holding my husband's hand through this.

slyseal28 said:To get a second opinion, you need your discharge papers, X-rays, CT scans, or even a PET scan. By law, the hospital has to hand over all your medical records to you! If they give you any grief about it, hit up the Association and we'll try to step in. And hey, if you want us to help you actually set up that second opinion, just reach out.

My advice, based on what I've dealt with personally: ALWAYS, and I mean always, go looking for a second—if not a third—opinion.

Thanks so much, I'll reach out once I've had a chance to talk things over with my husband. He's going through a really rough patch right now. He's been stuck doing endless testing over the last two months. He's pretty shaken up, and I just need some time to help him pull himself together.

Jonathan Doyle55 said:Not everything has to be cancer. Be careful with those diagnoses. Definitely go get a second opinion—just don't mention any previous tests, because they just tend to parrot back whatever was already said.

We haven’t actually gone looking for a second opinion. Honestly, I wouldn't even know where to go, and I'm not sure it would even matter since everywhere we go (no matter what kind of scan we're getting!) they insist on digging up all the old medical records. My husband has been dealing with this for four years now, so saying I don't have documentation isn't exactly realistic. If anything, all I have are discharge papers that are super vague. When my husband went in for his last CT scan at our local hospital, he didn't bring a single thing except for his most recent discharge summary. And man, did they jump him for it! He (who's got a pretty sharp tongue, let me tell you!) basically snapped back at them: "What are you guys doing, just transcribing? Actually write down what YOU see!"
In response to that, they just opened fire on him, eventually trying to convince him that he was, like, *super* sick. It totally crushed him. He spent ten days stuck in bed just spiraling, wondering why they were telling him things were so bad. It took everything I had to calm him down.
So yeah, I really don't know what the right move is here.
We're going to go ahead with the laryngoscopy exam, and then we'll just see what happens. Until then, may God help us.

Angela Wright said:My own run-ins with PET scans have been super inconsistent. Basically, an ultrasound picked up stuff the PET completely missed. Look, just go see an ENT—I'm betting Salata is your best bet there. Don't lose your mind before you actually know what's up. At the end of the day, doctors know a bit more than we do. Just because a PET shows something doesn't mean it's cancer. Let's just take it slow—get the checkup done first, then deal with whatever comes out. Panicking isn't going to help anyone.
Let's bring some damn positivity to this thread, people. Seriously... everyone's getting all worked up, and honestly, cancer feeds on that kind of vibe.

You're right. We need to reel it in and try to stay level-headed.

So, I just got my PET scan results back.
No pathological accumulations anywhere, except right around the area of my right vocal cord. There’s this asymmetrical buildup of FDG in the vocal cords, with the right side showing a more intense SUVmax of 5.5.
Everything else seems to be within normal limits.
I called my doctor over at Jordan, and he basically told me it’s nothing—just suggested I go get a laryngoscopy, but he's totally convinced there's nothing wrong.
I’m not really sure where the best place would be to get that checkup done, maybe at the MD Anderson Cancer Center in NYC?
Honestly, I can't say the doctor actually calmed me down. I was completely blindsided when I first read the report. At the same time, I feel like a PET scan doesn't just lie, you know? Like, what does this even mean? Why would they flag something if it isn't malignant?
I'm losing my mind here.

I had my PET scan this past Thursday, and I’m supposed to get the results in the mail today. I’ll give you guys an update once they actually show up. Honestly? I'm a total wreck. Just terrified.

Regarding the Medrol, from what I understand, it’s a corticosteroid, so it isn't really for pain relief—it’s more about fighting inflammation. My husband ended up taking Medrol because he developed post-radiation fibrosis six months after his treatment, just to help dial back the inflammatory response.
And it worked wonders. He didn't deal with any major inflammation at all.

Rachel Murphy77 said:I mean, they probably told you it’s solid for cutting down nausea and headaches, so it hits the mark there, but man, the side effects are just brutal. It's a total double-edged sword. 😠
I mean, I personally dealt with at least 80% of those side effects. 😠
Unlike you, I never had an appetite, and honestly, I still don't. 🤷
I'm eating totally normal, but instead of dropping weight, I'm just stuck at the same number or even putting on a few pounds. 🤷
I remember telling someone that my butt looked exactly like a dartboard. 😂😂

Actually, I wasn't even talking about dexamethasone—I meant Medrol.
It's all just the same old crap in a different wrapper. 🙄

I got two totally different stories about whether he should be using it while going through chemo.
So, here’s the thing, the question is,
Is Medrol something you take constantly while doing chemo, or just whenever you feel like it?

So, my husband started on Medrol after finishing chemo. It was a gradual taper—started at 32 mg, then dropped to 16, then 8, and finally down to 4 mg. He was on it for almost three years straight. For this past year, he hasn't touched the stuff at all, since he tapered off slowly—first doing it every other day, then every third day, and then just stopping altogether. Honestly, since he quit Medrol, he’s been totally fine. The real mess was while he was actually on the medication, because he was taking it way too long—like, three years long. His stomach was constantly bloated like a balloon, and his skin started acting up big time; we're talking rashes, itching, redness... the whole deal. But ever since he stopped the Medrol, the bloating is gone and his skin isn't nearly as sensitive anymore.
Medrol was something he was taking based on his doctor's recommendation, starting right after he finished up with chemo.

Nathan Moore45 said:Now this whole thing just reminded me of something else.
Back when I was at my weakest (if you want to call it that), I was on dexamethasone—pretty sure that’s how you spell it—and man, damn the day I ever touched that stuff. It was a double-edged sword, plain and simple. At first, I was getting daily injections,
straight in the butt, to help bring down the intracranial pressure in my head. But man, it made me bloat like crazy. My appetite went through the roof, and honestly, none of the vitamins I was taking seemed to do squat.
I was getting those shots for so long that, well, let's just say my backside ended up looking like Swiss cheese. After that, they moved to my thighs, and then I eventually switched over to dexamethasone pills. That part actually helped dial back the headaches and nausea. But on the flip side? It gave me osteoporosis, and all that bloating left me covered in stretch marks. I was taking it every single day, though I lost track of how long.

My husband had to deal with dexamethasone injections too. He got that same bloated look, especially around his head and neck. He used to drink a cup of celery tea every day, and that actually helped him get back to feeling normal.

Grace Grant10 said:I know it sounds wild, but trust me, if people actually knew what was inside those drugs and chemo, they wouldn't touch them. But hey, we all just blindly trust chemistry more, I guess...
From what I remember, one of my mom's friends was told she needed standard chemo, but she turned it down because she knew exactly how much damage it does. She went the macrobiotic route and some herbal stuff (not sure which ones, I'll ask and let the group know) and she totally recovered. I know it sounds unbelievable, but she’s alive and kicking. There is so much good stuff out there in nature; you just have to decide to take it and try it. More importantly, though—we really need to eat better (nature again!!!)—then the odds of even getting these diseases would be way lower. Your immune system is everything.
That's enough from me.
Goga

Look, you have to realize that every single person—every single organism—is different. Cancer hits everyone differently too, so there isn't some one-size-fits-all magic cure. It's unique for everyone! I don't know what kind of cancer that friend's mother had, but I know I would never choose to ditch conventional medicine and treatment entirely. My husband went through both chemo and radiation. During and after those treatments, right up until today, we used a ton of natural, healthy supplements and teas. Like you said, immunity is the most important thing. We boosted his up so his body could fight the disease itself.
It's a given that there are medicines in nature and we can do a lot with them, but you can't just throw medicine away. I honestly don't believe my husband would still be here if I had only used natural remedies. No tea is going to wipe out a tumor. Chemo and radiation wiped out the tumor. Yeah, I know they wiped out things they weren't supposed to, too, but it was specifically with the help of natural remedies that we managed to see actual improvement.

Walter Roberts17 said:Everything is fine, I guess, but I’ve got a question.
How do I help someone like me—someone who beat cancer and is now just at home trying to get my leg working again—when my old man keeps telling me I should just put a bullet in my head and that it’d be better if I wasn't around? And to top it off, my hair hasn't even grown back yet.😂 That’s what you call the humor of this stupid life. Man, I don't even know why I bothered surviving. The illness itself isn't even my biggest issue. It's where I'm stuck recovering. So—help me out if you can. Should I just kill myself???🤣🙏☕

I’m sure it’s incredibly tough. You went through all those scares and shocks, but you made it out.
I have no idea how your dad can say stuff like that. It's heavy. But look, you gotta realize it probably wasn't easy for him during your illness either. He was going through his own fears too, even if they don't measure up to yours. All of this leaves a mark on how people act, both you and him. I don't know if there's anyone else in the family who could step in and help with this kind of stuff.
The sickness is behind you. And you aren't going to kill yourself. Stay strong. Just tune out your dad's outbursts, and maybe try to be a little more patient with him, too. There are bad days and good days. It's a cycle. Yesterday sucked, but today might actually be better, you'll see. Hang in there. You survived, so enjoy being alive. Ignore everything else.

Nancy Hernandez43 said:Super honest and real. Thanks for that!

It’s going to go exactly how you said it would. After the initial shock of day one, things have calmed down and we're just talking normally today. Honestly, bringing up potential side effects feels stupid because every surgery comes with them—whatever happens, happens. Worrying too much just gets in the way, and we all know that. One thing I will say is that the doctor from the Police Department was pretty reckless with her words; the folks over at Avian are way too optimistic. They don't really warn you about the fallout, they just charge ahead blindly.

The PET scan came back clean, except for that mass in the left leg. Abdomen is clear, lungs are clear. That mass isn't even what's worrying her most; it's more the fact that her cancer was operated on at such an advanced stage. Just to be safe, they have to open it back up to make sure there aren't any leaks. We're fully aware of all this, just riding the wave together.

Taking into account everything you went through, and seeing what others deal with on this forum, I can say that even when I'm being my most hypocritical or miserable self, I remember how hard it actually is for someone going through this. Being alone with your fears is the worst part. But, I'm certain my girl is still gonna show everyone she's a Braveheart and won't let fear take over. She's young, she's got a bright spirit, and she's strong for all of us!

kisses

Your mom is clearly a fighter who doesn't quit. There isn't a single person out there who doesn't feel fear in situations like this. You can't avoid it. But that's why family exists—to pull you through. You're an amazing daughter, and your mother is truly blessed to have you. Stay strong. Trust that everything will work out. I'm right there with you guys.

Grace Fowler said:Hey there!!!
Just a quick update on my recent test results.... The marker is actually dipping slightly after three weeks, which is pretty encouraging... I'm waiting for October 14th when we go in for the CT and a biopsy of the suspicious area... Until then, I'm supposed to be resting, hmm, hmm, though that's easier said than done because staying stuck in bed is the absolute worst (though I do treat myself to a little walk with my fitness tracker:-👍) AND I AM COOKING EVERY POSSIBLE DISH THAT COMES TO MIND😉 🙂. The reality is I can't eat most of it (thank God for my husband! :-) but it still makes me happy.
I WANT TO PASS ON SOME OF THIS OPTIMISM AND FAITH THAT THINGS ARE GOING TO GET BETTER TO ALL OF YOU Keep being brave and don't give up...
Your Dina

I really admire you. You're so incredibly brave, and I hope you never lose that infectious optimism of yours.

I was in a terrible mood today, but ever since my husband got home, everything feels better. The hospital absolutely beat him up. But now we're back to our old selves. He's doing better (well, of course he is, since I'm right here by his side!), and the pain is easing up.
He’s gonna be an O. K. Borac.
God, I love him so much!

bluegull18 said:Thanks, Lisa White54. I’ve been reading through your posts, and honestly... I feel for you. I see how much you're struggling, but don't lose hope yet. There's still something worth holding onto... I think.
I know nobody here can actually fix things for me. After I put up my first post, I found myself wondering what the point even was. But hey, it’s easier when you realize someone actually gets it—someone walking a similar path. I just need a little empathy, some kind words. It helps seeing that people understand, which is probably why we're all here venting about our pain and our struggles...
I just want everything she's going through to be over soon. I just want the suffering to stop, for the pain to let go of her...

Until recently, I was fighting this battle all by myself before I signed up for this forum. Here, we can actually relate to one another, give a bit of advice, and make things slightly more bearable because we're all in the same fight.
All my friends, my whole family... they're a whole different story. At first, they try to be understanding, but after a while, they just don't want to hear about it anymore. It’s easier for them that way; they don't want to get weighed down. I'm not judging them, though—everyone's got their own life and doesn't have time to carry yours. Since this illness drags on for so long here in the States, I ended up feeling totally isolated in this fight. But I'm not backing down!
Fighting for a new Tomorrow!

bluegull18 said:Basically, you're right. Everything you told me, I already know deep down. I just need to say that for her, there’s really no hope left. The doctor was brutally honest with us—it’s almost over... and how am I supposed to not cry? Even though she’s still breathing, I know I’m about to lose her.
Everyone keeps telling me I have to be strong, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do, but I don’t know if I actually can. There are moments where I feel like I’m just going to snap.
Of course I want to help her; that’s the whole point. Ever since this happened, that’s all I do and the only reason I even get out of bed—to make things easier for her, to help her somehow. All I can really do is sit in the hospital and comfort her. She’s never coming home again, and honestly, I’m running on empty. I’m terrified I’ll break. I’m not a strong person; I never was.
And yeah, logic is supposed to be stronger than feelings, we all know that drill. If I were trying to comfort someone else, I’d probably say the exact same thing with the best intentions.
But for her, it isn't just about a diagnosis. Her body is completely trashed from the stroke, and she only has one kidney left, which got blocked by a stone five days ago, so they had her on dialysis every single day (all this happening right after the stroke). On top of that, they found metastases in her liver. The cancer spread. The doctor laid it out plain for us: don't hold onto hope, there’s no more help to give, it’s just a matter of days now.
So how am I supposed to not weep and grieve? I go to her side and tell her everything will be okay, when I know damn well it won't. I cry because I'm scared of the agony waiting for her as the cancer takes its course, and I love her so much that her pain feels like my own.
It’s not some "just deal with it" or "get over it" situation—not when she’s still here. Every day when I say goodbye at the hospital, I say it like it’s the last time, because I know it soon will be. I’m scared of her suffering. I can’t do anything for her except stay by her side and try to soothe her. I have to tell her things will get better, knowing they won't, while she just whispers "it hurts, it hurts..." in that broken voice, occasionally squeezing my hand.
I’m just so afraid I’ll crumble. My heart might actually break watching her suffer like this—she’s such a tiny, frail little thing, my sweet grandma who has given me nothing but goodness and love my whole life.

Thanks, wanderingharbor61, for understanding and for being there.

Sorry if I was a bit blunt earlier, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. This whole thing is just horrific and I totally get it. That fear of losing someone, the feeling of being powerless, searching for help that just isn't there... I've been through it and I'm still going through it—the mental crashes, the grief, the pain, the anger. We're all just human. But I always manage to find the guts to pull myself up out of those dark holes.
I'm back at square one myself. Four years of stability, and then everything just collapses like a house of cards. I'm crying and grieving too. I'm terrified. I'm scared my husband will take a turn for the worse and I won't be able to do a thing. I'm scared that if he hits a critical point—God forbid!—no hospital will even want to take him in to ease his pain. I'm scared the paramedics won't show up when I call...
That feeling of pure dread and helplessness.
Watching someone suffer while being unable to change it is definitely the hardest part, but a kind word and a hand squeeze really do mean everything. Just stay with your grandma and talk to her. This will pass. Stay brave, I know it's hard!

bluegull18 said:Hey everyone, I just wanted to jump in here and say that I truly feel for everyone on this thread.
I wish I could offer some actual comfort to those who need it, but honestly, I’m only here looking for those exact same words myself.
The thing is, I’m hurting—it’s a deep, crushing kind of pain. It feels like it might actually kill me. My brain knows one thing, but my heart and my gut are screaming something else entirely. I can't help it; it just hurts... it hurts like crazy.
About ten days ago, my sweet grandma had a stroke. She’s slowly coming around, but her left side is paralyzed, and right now she’s communicating more like a small child. Sometimes she’s just completely out of it, totally unaware, but that’s not even the worst part. On top of that, there’s an issue with one of her kidneys which—God help us—has advanced carcinoma, and the metastases have hit her liver too. They’re still running tests to figure out where the primary tumor actually started.
And what am I supposed to do with that? The doctor was straight with us: there’s no fixing this. She’s recovering from the stroke, sure, but the cancer is going to take her soon. She’s 81. We shouldn't hold onto any false hope; she’ll be gone before we know it...
How am I supposed to wrap my head around this? Every single day I look at her, and she’s so strong. She’s fighting, but I see her suffering. In that heavy, labored voice of hers, she tells me she’s in pain, and she was never one to complain or play the victim. She fights, and I see that spark of will to live in her eyes. I try to soothe her, telling her she’ll get better, that things will improve, and she just keeps repeating back to me, "better, better..."... man, it’s devastating. In the end, I have to be the strong one, but I’m realizing that's when I'll need her most. Since the third day after it happened, my doctor put me on antidepressants just so I can barely function. Before that, I wasn't sleeping, eating, or drinking anything. At night, I was hallucinating, seeing her standing right next to me, calling for my help...
There was one day where I just stopped crying. I thought I couldn't take anymore; my eyes were so swollen they wouldn't open. But then, the tears just started pouring again... my heart feels like a wounded bird, and every few minutes I get this sensation in my head, like ants are crawling inside my skull.
Every day I’m at the hospital, feeding her tea through a tube, comforting her, holding her hand... all while knowing there’s no hope left...
She was so much more than a grandmother to me. In her whole life, she loved me more than anything in the world. No matter what I did, she was there. When nobody else understood me, she did. I spent so much of my childhood by her side; she gave me everything... and now she’s leaving.
She’s slipping away, and I can't hold onto her.
I know, I have a husband, I have my own kid. I know I have to keep going for them. I get it, intellectually. My brain tells me that all the time, but the heart... the heart is a different story. Emotions are just different. I’ve always been overly sensitive; my feelings have always run the show instead of logic. How am I supposed to handle this?
I’m terrified of her suffering. I’m scared to watch her every day as every breath she takes pulls her further away. I don't know if I can stomach watching her struggle like this. How do I make peace with her pain? Why does she have to suffer? Why can't she just go peacefully? Maybe that would be easier for me.
She never caused anyone trouble in her entire life. Why is she condemned to this kind of agony? She didn't deserve this.
It feels like none of my family really gets how much I'm hurting. Everyone just says "life goes on" or "you have people to live for." Yeah, obviously, I get that—I don't need a lecture. But the heart and the emotions are way stronger than logic.
I find myself wondering: Am I the only one who can't deal with an imminent loss like this? Are other people just less sensitive? Why can't I cope with a situation like this? Isn't it normal to be driven crazy by the pain of losing someone who loved and supported me their entire life, who looked after me like only a grandmother can?
How am I supposed to stay calm when nobody gets it? Everyone keeps preaching about the "natural course of life" and how things are "supposed to be"—as if I don't already know that. Yeah, the elderly pass away, I get it, but it still hurts... it just hurts. How do I let her go? How do I stay grounded? How am I supposed to survive the hell that’s coming for both of us while trying to act like everything is fine? She needs me to comfort her, but there isn't a single soul here to comfort me. How can I be her rock when I'm the one who actually needs help?
Thanks to everyone for any kind words you've thrown my way.

If you really want to help her, you have to find a way to be strong and stay positive first, otherwise you've got nothing to give her. Think about it—how did any of us handle hearing bad news about a loved one? Nobody is made of stone, but you have to let your head take the lead over your heart if you want to support your people. Besides, why start mourning before the fight is even over? Getting a diagnosis doesn't mean it's game over, regardless of age. I know plenty of older folks over in Jordan who dealt with serious stuff and kept on living.
Stop beating yourself up. Your grandma is going through it, so just focus on being there for her.

Nancy Hernandez43 said:Honestly, it's hard to expect anyone to really get it—that's just how this disease works. It’s a total mind game. I truly believe my husband is going to find his strength again the second he gets back home, far away from that soul-crushing hospital atmosphere, where he can finally just breathe and relax a little.

If a PET scan is necessary, just get it done. It took us a few months just to help my mom work through the fear before she’d even agree to go through with it. Even now, two weeks after the scan, she's still feeling pretty shaken up—honestly, seeing her like that makes me pray she won't have to deal with another one anytime soon.

The results came in this morning. They found some undefined mass in her left leg. Honestly, Mom just took it in stride—she was like, "After that last nightmare diagnosis, this is nothing." They’re suspecting an enlarged lymph node. She already called her oncologist, and he told her to come in for an emergency appointment. I should probably know more tomorrow, and look, I'm ready for whatever happens, but deep down? I've got a bad feeling about this. So, I totally get where you're coming from, and I'm really hoping things turn around for all of us soon. We're all fighters in this. Hang in there!👍

My husband finally agreed to the PET scan. Gotta call today to get him scheduled.
But here’s the kicker—his neck and head are absolutely killing him. He was dealing with some serious dizzy spells last night, too. Just constant ringing in his ears. He was freezing cold and breaking out in a sweat... totally wiped out. He popped some Tramal and that seemed to take the edge off a little bit. Then this morning, he was having trouble peeing. I don't know if that's just the Tramal acting up or what?

Honestly, I can see that things are totally falling apart. They can stand there and tell me all day that the test results look fine, but I’m looking at a person who clearly isn't doing well. It feels like they’re just checking the lungs and calling it a day, but the real question is what else is going on in the rest of the body.
He's home now. I've gotta pull him up, both mentally and physically. I'm not letting him sink!

Thanks for the tip. Honestly, I had no clue an Association like that even existed during these last four years. I'm definitely going to reach out to them.
My husband is getting discharged from the hospital today. All the biopsy and bronchoscopy results came back negative. The doctor is suggesting a PET scan next. That’s what we’ll do, then the doc can figure out the next move.
My husband's arms and shoulders are killing him. He says he just feels terrible overall. Being at home will probably make him feel a bit better.
The whole thing has just thrown me for a loop. The tests say nothing's wrong, but you can see the tumor on the CT. I guess I should be thinking everything is fine, but I'm just scared. Nothing makes sense right now.

Austin Collins82 said:Hey everyone

I've been lurking on this forum for a long, long time, but I’ve never actually typed a single word until now. First off, I gotta say I have massive respect for all the fighters on here—and obviously Ivanna, who started all this. She made things a little easier for me and everyone else through all the absolute horrors we've dealt with and are still dealing with. My mom got hit with leukemia just under a year ago, but man, the disease was just too aggressive, too strong. She passed away in mid-August... but I won't get into that right now, because she went through literal hell during those 10 months of fighting, and honestly, so did our whole family. I’ve never posted anything here before, but I read this every single day, and believe me, this community is the only thing that kept me from completely losing my mind. You guys are all heroes to me. I owe it to you that I can even pretend to be somewhat "normal" today after everything. I never even fell into that trap of asking "why me?" or "why her?" because I know deep down that sickness doesn't play favorites. Anyway, the reason I’m finally speaking up is because of what that person under the name lescolxl wrote. Honestly, they could have said a lot more, but I’ll keep it brief. I just have to address that part about the Anne Rukavina Foundation—what was written there is a total disgrace. Listen, honey, you have absolutely no clue what you're talking about. What the Rukavina family has accomplished deserves nothing but pure admiration. I know firsthand what they've gone through because my mom died from the exact same type of leukemia as Anne. Sadly, she never made it to the transplant stage, but just look at the facts: before that foundation was set up in the US, there were only about 160 matched samples available, and now there are over 4,000. That is a massive deal. I'm not going to get into a huge debate, but I truly hope that neither you nor anyone close to you ever needs something like this... you clearly don't know what you're talking about, so stop spreading nonsense, especially in a place where people are literally fighting for their lives!!

Yeah, there's that old saying: a healthy person doesn't believe a sick one! Sad, but true.

We're still waiting on the bronchoscopy results. Maybe they'll be ready today, then we'll figure out the next move.

Hey everyone.