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Posts by graniteorca42

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Nancy Lee said:My father was discharged with a diagnosis of malignant lymphoma in his neck. He’s been prescribed Taxol and is scheduled to start radiation on his neck in three weeks.
The doctor mentioned that the scintigraphy results looked fine, and we were discharged shortly after. We received the paperwork at our home address, which contained what I’ve written to you all. Since we can't reach his doctor right now because he is traveling, I am asking you—or anyone with expertise—to please clarify these scintigraphy findings once more.

Greetings again. Since my mother underwent a scintigraphy some time ago due to suspected bone metastases, I will answer you directly. Perhaps this response will offer some hope and alleviate some of your anxiety. First, let me be clear: scintigraphy is not nearly as reliable as some people claim, and you will likely require additional imaging. Years ago, my mother was in a major car accident that resulted in numerous fractures, particularly in her pelvic region (twelve fractures in total). Now, over thirty years later, following a diagnosis of liver cancer, doctors suspected bone metastases due to high phosphatase levels. They initially performed X-rays of both shoulders because she was experiencing pain there, along with scans of her pelvis, hips, and knees. When those X-rays were reviewed, the physician insisted there were no metastases, attributing the issues instead to osteoporosis and old fractures. However, they sent her for a bone scintigraphy to check for radiopharmaceutical accumulation in the pelvis, thoracic spine, and ankle. For the ankle, they claimed it was degenerative, but for the other areas, they suggested metastases. She was referred for radiation (following a tumor board review), but she caught a stroke of luck when, right before the marking procedure, a doctor who wasn't part of the initial board asked if we had the X-rays. Upon reviewing the X-rays, she immediately stated my mother did not have metastases and ordered an MRI to confirm. The MRI proved her right. If she hadn't intervened, my mother would have undergone unnecessary radiation; the radiopharmaceutical was simply accumulating at the sites of her old injuries, and the spinal findings were merely degenerative. It is true that bone metastases typically appear in the shoulders, hips, pelvis, rebro, or spine, but there must be accompanying symptoms, and one must be extremely careful to rule out similar conditions. In your father's case, the radiopharmaceutical accumulated in the left shoulder, one rebro, the upper back (clavicle and scapula), and the knees. As previously noted, one area is certainly degenerative—essentially "wear and tear"—while the shoulder and rebro findings require further investigation. You should consider getting an MRI, which is quite reliable, or perhaps an X-ray combined with blood work. Where the tracer accumulates indicates that a process is occurring, but it is not necessarily malignant. This finding must be carefully verified and supplemented by other tests; as I mentioned, an MRI would be highly dependable. I apologize for being long-winded, but this is the only way to convey the experience. The only error made here was by the medical team, though in my mother's case, it was genuinely difficult to determine given her history of numerous old injuries and a deformed pelvis that left her disabled; anyone would have struggled. It should be much easier to determine the situation with your father. Best regards.
stormytinker4 said:My heart goes out to everyone currently losing their battle against this cruel disease 😢 ... To be honest, it still hasn't sunk in that my father has been gone for less than ten days. He was a man who passed away while we were right there, holding him and showing him love, almost as if he weren't even himself. I can't even describe it as sadness, because I simply cannot wrap my head around the concept of death anymore—it feels entirely disconnected from my reality. Nancy Lee, it is well documented that lung cancer often triggers deep depression, though the exact cause remains a mystery... And my father specifically requested that we "leave him be." Until his very last day, he insisted on doing everything himself. He refused help even when he could barely walk, his legs trembling from sheer weakness 😢 ... I am talking about a brutal ten-day window of rapid decline. Alex Hayes, the same applies to you... What hurts most is the helplessness of the illness itself—the realization that you cannot help, that calling 911, or palliative care, or anyone else, changes nothing. That powerlessness is what truly kills you 😢 .... You must stay by your mother's side every single day, every hour, for as long as possible. She won't be able to endure watching him fade away while being too ill herself to intervene. These moments are harrowing. Let me reiterate what the doctors told us and how we handled things: stay present, show your love, hold them, and "do not interfere." Or rather, "let them be"—at least, that was the case for my father. We were incredibly intrusive, constantly badgering him with questions: Are you hungry? Do you need to eat something? Do you need the restroom? In our desperate attempt to help, we might have actually hastened his end 😢 ... Alex Hayes, as for what to expect—I honestly don't know; it varies for everyone. My father and our family were fortunate in one sense: he only felt poorly during that final afternoon. He passed peacefully; he spent his last ninety minutes essentially sleeping (though I suspect it was more of an unconscious state given his lack of oxygen and dangerously low blood pressure). However, his breathing was steady (unlike the entire afternoon prior, where he was gasping and struggling for air). He settled himself comfortably on the sofa, even scratched his own nose 🙂 .... His breathing just slowed and slowed until it stopped completely. There was no agony, no desperate gasping for that final breath, which was my greatest fear. He passed quietly, and we remained peaceful beside him, stroking his hair and loving him in the silence... I truly hope that when the moment comes, your loved ones find that same peace... 😢

Regards, I have just said what I needed to say. My mother stopped eating two weeks before she passed; she told me quite simply that she had no appetite left and that she understood her situation, so I stopped offering her food. She only drank plenty of fluids up until two days before the end. Our doctor was incredibly fair—she didn't dismiss the idea that someone facing metastatic cancer would feel depressed, and she advised us to simply support my mother and make things easier for her, which is exactly what we did. Looking back, I feel much more at peace knowing we didn't spend those final moments dragging her from one specialist to another; both she and I knew exactly what was coming. She died peacefully in my arms. I wish I could see that doctor face-to-face and ask if she would remain depressed if she were facing such a diagnosis herself. My mother conquered everything else, but the metastases in her lymph nodes were simply too much. It is heartbreaking that so many people are forced to confront this evil while remaining utterly powerless.
Nancy Lee said:Since I am already here, I want to ask about something from my recent discharge papers that I don't quite understand:

Pathological accumulation of radiopharmaceuticals is visible in the area of a large lesion in the left humerus.
The appearance of the clavicle and ribs is non-homogeneous, with focal pathological radiopharmaceutical accumulation of lower intensity in the 9th left posterior rib.
Increased radiopharmaceutical uptake is visible in both acromioclavicular joints, both scapular coracoid processes, and both knees, which is most likely degenerative in nature.

I don't understand any of this, and it sounds quite terrifying, so I am asking for some clarification.

Respectfully, I will share something based on my own experience (I have written more detail about this in previous posts). Please do not blame your father for how he is behaving, and do not try to force him into anything. When a disease reaches this stage, a person simply begins to decline rapidly. My mother was given a prognosis of only a few months, yet she had no issues for two years before everything collapsed on her in just a month and a half. What you are describing sounds exactly like what we went through. Do not push him to do anything; instead, meet him where he is and make things easier for him. Even though I don't know you personally, I can see that he is struggling and simply cannot do more than he is doing right now—it feels like I am watching our own situation unfold. Most importantly, kiss him, hug him, and tell him you love him a million times, even if you feel like you are being repetitive. He certainly cannot do more than what he is currently managing; it isn't just a loss of willpower. Regarding the medical findings you asked about, it shows changes in several areas of the bones (not everything is necessarily malignant or metastatic), but given the number of changes listed, unfortunately, considering the type of cancer involved, there will likely be at least one bone metastasis. The findings in the shoulder bone and the rib are the most suspicious for metastasis. As for the doctor being rude—we dealt with someone like that too; he didn't treat my mother, but when we finally needed something from him, he turned out to be right. My mother was an incredible fighter, but as I mentioned, after a long struggle, the lymph nodes destroyed her quickly and cruelly, leading to a rapid decline. I am so sorry you are going through this. I do not wish to sound ominous, and I truly hope your father defies all predictions and becomes a medical miracle. I wish you all the best.
Angela Wright said:I want to build upon this post and point out something vital.
I have noticed a very specific pattern on American forums regarding these types of heavy, sensitive topics. Most people seem to chime in only when a crisis hits, when things spiral out of control, or when a patient passes away, primarily to express their grief and seek solace. Generally speaking, people don't bother posting when they actually solve their problems or when the treatment process is moving in a positive direction. This creates a pervasive sense of hopelessness and gloom on this and similar threads, even though reality isn't necessarily—and doesn't have to be—that bleak. When I started this topic, my intention was to provide a space not just for those whose loved ones lost their battles—who use their advice to find meaning in their pain and loss—but also for those who have entered remission to share their stories. It would give even greater purpose to their struggles. It feels as if people simply want to forget everything and move on without looking back at what I consider a crucial part of an individual's genesis when faced with a malignant diagnosis.
I hope to see this trend change.

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for the condolences. You hit the nail on the head in your post; I joined this conversation specifically to show others that there is hope, provided you look for it. For instance, my mother dealt with an extremely aggressive tumor. Gallbladder tumors were only recently integrated into standard treatment protocols; previously, a diagnosis like that was essentially a death sentence because there were no therapies available. Today, many doctors in various countries practice stent placement as a primary response to gallbladder cancer. I live in Birmingham, and as I mentioned before, despite the questionable conditions in our local hospitals, we are fortunate to have top-tier specialists who stay current with global medical advancements (how they manage to do it given the circumstances is beyond me). That is why my mother’s surgery was performed masterfully, even after discovering a gallbladder tumor with metastases in the liver and several other locations. They decided on chemotherapy, even though the drug options for this type of tumor are limited since it is quite rare and hasn't been extensively researched. All of this led to an outstanding clinical outcome. The truth is, my mother passed away on Saturday, but had all of this not been done, she would have died within three months of the initial discovery (she had her surgery on August 11, 2011). Although treatment was constant for those two years—with only a three-month break—she was able to enjoy many beautiful moments with family and friends without being hindered by abdominal issues. She didn't experience pain until May of this year, and in total, she only suffered through about fifteen days of pain because it was effectively managed with medication and partial radiation. One could say she handled it remarkably well.
We knew from the beginning that a cure wasn't possible and that we were simply extending her life, but we achieved an incredible result for this specific tumor type and fought back hard.
So, never give up. If it means gaining just one more day of life, take that day.
As I said, I am still here to help anyone, especially those facing this particular tumor, as it is truly rare and firsthand information is essential. Regards to everyone; I am heartbroken, but I am standing with you.
To my fellow forum members, it is with a heavy heart that I share that I have also lost my dear mother.
She passed away this past Saturday after a grueling two-year battle with pancreatic cancer. Even when you know what is coming, the pain remains unbearable. Despite initial prognoses suggesting she only had six months, our treatment yielded exceptional results; unfortunately, we were ultimately facing an incredibly aggressive malignancy.
Your support has meant the world to me, and I want to offer myself to this community. Having navigated the complexities of this specific type of cancer, I am available to provide any assistance or advice should anyone find themselves in need. Given how rare these tumors can be, I believe firsthand experience is invaluable—I certainly learned that myself, and I am more than willing to help others through it.
Thank you all for everything.
Linda Patel21 said:My dear friends, today I laid my beloved father to rest. It has been a mere two months since his diagnosis (gallbladder cancer with metastases). We didn't even have time to start chemotherapy; he wasn't a candidate for surgery, so they placed a stent instead. Thankfully, he wasn't in pain, and until his very last day, he truly believed he would be out planting an orchard. He struggled with confusion, high fevers, and a loss of appetite. I tried my absolute best to fulfill his every wish. I knew the end was approaching, yet I couldn't help but hope. I anticipated this would be difficult, but I never imagined it would feel quite like this... I miss him already; my heart aches, and I find myself wishing we could have had just a little more time. If only I could hug him again, rub his back, or even have him give me one of those angry looks... anything at all. I haven't been on these forums for long, but I have met wonderful, brave people here. Therefore, I wish you all strength in your ongoing battles. Do not give up, and stay by the side of your loved ones until the very end. My days are filled with sorrow and tears, but then I find myself remembering those beautiful moments...

Please accept my deepest condolences. I am truly sorry, especially as I am facing the exact same reality. My mother is currently losing her battle with gallbladder cancer after exactly two years; it is a slow process now, and it is simply a matter of days. Unfortunately, she is suffering through severe pain and everything else that comes with it.
coastalviper49 said:My mother underwent surgery for a brain tumor one year and three months ago. Her doctor mentioned that the side effects from radiation often peak about two months after treatment ends, and warned us that certain symptoms might mimic a recurrence when they are actually just lingering effects of the radiotherapy. Even now, a full year later, my mother suffers from an intense itching sensation on her scalp. We have tried everything from castor oil and Burn Aid gel to Aloe Vera gel from Esij, but nothing seems to provide relief. What has been your experience? Is there any specific remedy that actually works?

First of all, thank you for the response. I don't have firsthand experience with radiation side effects because my mother only finished her treatment this past June. She is currently dealing with severe side effects—honestly, they are horrific—though hers involve intense abdominal pain, loss of appetite, and stomatitis. She didn't have skin issues since she only had fifteen sessions, but frankly, this radiation has been far more brutal than her seventeen grueling rounds of chemotherapy. I am being completely sincere and not exaggerating here. It seems to me that your mother may simply have to endure this until it eventually subsides, as it appears nothing truly helps. My mother is hanging in there, despite having access to everything she needs and receiving maximum care, but this radiation damage seems to follow its own timeline regardless of intervention.
Greetings, everyone. I am posting here again regarding my mother, who has been battling gallbladder carcinoma for two years now—a cancer that has already metastasized to her liver and lymph nodes.
She underwent continuous chemotherapy for those two years, finally completing her last round this past March.
Following that, she was left with a 5.5 cm metastasis located in a single cluster of abdominal lymph nodes. In May, because that area began causing significant pain, she was referred for radiation therapy. She received palliative treatment consisting of 15 sessions at 30 units each (I am not particularly well-versed in these specific units). Remarkably, after only the fifth session, her pain had completely vanished.
I should emphasize that during the actual course of the radiation, she experienced absolutely no issues—no pain, no nausea, nothing whatsoever.
However, exactly two weeks after the radiation treatments concluded, she was suddenly struck by intense abdominal pain, stomatitis, and skin changes. I am aware of both the immediate and delayed side effects of radiation, so we consulted her physician. The doctor claimed these symptoms were a direct consequence of the radiation—specifically inflammation of the pancreas and stomach—and prescribed a painkiller along with Controloc. Given that the radiation passed through all her abdominal organs, I can certainly wrap my head around that possibility.
In addition to her medication, I have been providing her with specialized dietary supplements. It has now been a month and a half since the radiation ended, and the pain remains just as severe. I am asking if anyone here has experience with this type of radiation, or if someone knowledgeable could tell me: is it truly possible for such intense pain to manifest only two weeks after the treatment ends and persist for this long? Furthermore, if anyone has dealt with, or knows someone dealing with, metastases in the neck lymph nodes, could you please describe when your symptoms first appeared?
Thank you in advance.
Angela Wright said:I am certain things aren't perfect, but even then, you don't often see funding provided for everything mandated by law. We are talking about treatment protocols that are globally accepted, and the medical community in Canada adheres to them strictly. Regardless of how many financial struggles Canada faces, medical care and physician expertise have always remained high quality; if they had as little funding as they do elsewhere, everything would have collapsed. In fact, miracles happen here all the time.
Don't bother offering advice unless it's requested. I may not know half of what is going on, but since there are still dear and intelligent people visiting this forum, you will eventually receive an answer or at least some guidance on where to look.


Thank you for such an objective perspective. I have posted on this forum before; I am from Birmingham, and my mother has been undergoing treatment for two years now. I can say with absolute certainty that our doctors have performed nothing short of miracles with her so far. It is true that the state of the country is catastrophic and the healthcare system is drowning in debt, yet my mother has received seventeen different therapies without ever being short on medication. She has undergone every test without issue, received all her medical aids through the Foundation, and everything else. The attitude of the doctors toward us is so exceptional that I can hardly describe it; my mother's doctor cares for her so deeply that you get the impression she is her own daughter rather than just a physician (and I am not exaggerating). It is true, I know that occasionally certain medications are unavailable, but they only wait a maximum of ten days—I know this from speaking with other patients. Honestly, I repeat, I am amazed that this is even possible given the current state of the nation. Because of this, I believe everything will be fine in Boston or wherever she ends up. As you wisely noted in another post, one shouldn't waste energy worrying prematurely; instead, one must handle matters day by day. That was my "beginner's mistake" when we were first hit by this shock. Now, everything moves much more smoothly; I am settled in and providing excellent support to my mother. I wish everyone the strength to endure and win their battle.
Sophia Davis4 said:Hello everyone.
My sincere condolences to Lea and her family.

I am asking for help. After receiving the discharge papers for my mother—who just underwent surgery at Mayo Clinic to remove her gallbladder and a portion of her liver—I realized I don't understand any of this. Please, I need help interpreting this:
dg: Carcinoma vesicae felleae, infiltration of hepatic segments IVb and V
th. atypical resection of segments IVb and V including vesicae felleae, lymphadenectomy of the HD ligament, and resection of the greater omentum

It also states:
1. A section of the bile duct measuring 0.2 cm; histological analysis from both the intraoperative biopsy and subsequent permanent sections shows all structures are preserved and no tumor tissue is found.
2. An irregular piece of tissue measuring 0.7 cm, which histologically corresponds to two lymph nodes measuring up to 0.4 cm, one of which is infiltrated by metastatic tumor appearing as the primary tumor in material 4.
3. Fatty tissue measuring 5 cm in length containing nine lymph nodes measuring 0.3-1.6 cm, two of which are infiltrated by metastatic tumor.
4. Gallbladder measuring 6x4 cm with an underlying liver resection measuring 12x9x8 cm... visible perivascular and perineural invasion. Marked desmoplasia and areas of necrosis. In the area of the gallbladder neck, a 0.6 cm lymph node is infiltrated by metastatic tumor. The tumor infiltrates the surrounding fatty tissue and liver tissue; at the caudal edge of the liver parenchyma, there is attached fatty tissue; the tumor infiltrates the capsule, though the fatty tissue remains intact. The remaining parenchyma maintains its architecture, with portal spaces showing sparse to moderate chronic inflammatory infiltrate along with cholangiolar proliferation, and approximately 20% of hepatocytes in the liver lobes show micro- and macrovesicular steatotic changes in the cytoplasm. The resection margins of the gallbladder neck and the liver parenchyma are clear.

Does anyone understand this? Based on this, what should the prognosis be?
Thank you in advance.


And one more thing—if I may offer some well-intentioned advice based on painful experience—start chemotherapy as soon as possible. Start it immediately. My own mother appeared completely clear after her surgery, yet a CT scan performed a month later revealed three metastases in the exact same area where the operation had been conducted. Do not waste a single moment. She will need immense persistence and willpower, as will you, but you can fight for as much survival time as possible. Just hang in there.
Sophia Davis4 said:Hello everyone!
My sincere condolences to Lea and her family.

I am asking for help! After receiving the discharge papers from my mother, who is currently at Mayo Clinic following surgery to remove her gallbladder and part of her liver, I realized I don't understand any of this. Please, I need help interpreting this:
dg: Carcinoma vesicae felleae, infiltration of liver segments IVb and V
th. atypical resection of segments IVb and V including the gallbladder, lymphadenectomy of the hepatic ligament, and resection of the greater omentum

It further states:
1. A section of the bile duct measuring 0.2 cm was histologically examined during the intraoperative biopsy and subsequent permanent sections; all structures were preserved and no tumor tissue was found.
2. An irregular piece of tissue measuring 0.7 cm corresponds histologically to two lymph nodes measuring up to 0.4 cm, one of which is infiltrated by metastatic tumor, appearing as the primary tumor in material 4.
3. Fatty tissue measuring 5 cm in length, containing nine lymph nodes measuring 0.3-1.6 cm, two of which are infiltrated by metastatic tumor.
4. Gallbladder measuring 6x4 cm with an underlying liver resection measuring 12x9x8 cm... visible perivascular and perineural invasion. Pronounced desmoplasia and areas of necrosis. In the area of the gallbladder neck, a lymph node measuring 0.6 cm is infiltrated by metastatic tumor. The tumor infiltrates the surrounding fatty tissue and liver tissue; at the caudal edge of the liver parenchyma, there is attached fatty tissue, and the tumor infiltrates the capsule, though the fatty tissue remains intact. The remaining parenchyma maintains its architecture, with portal spaces showing sparse to moderate chronic inflammatory infiltrate along with cholangiolar proliferation, and approximately 20% of hepatocytes show micro and macrovesicular steatotic changes in the cytoplasm. The resection margins of the gallbladder neck and liver parenchyma are clear.

Does anyone understand this?! Based on this, what should the prognosis be?
Thanks in advance


Greetings again. Yes, the stage is crucial, but I have already provided my mother's case as an example. Gallbladder tumors are inherently highly aggressive; once they metastasize, the prognosis becomes significantly worse. According to certain studies, only about 5% of patients survive five years (those being likely the ones where metastasis hasn't occurred yet), while for others, survival ranges up to 18 months. The poorest prognoses fall within the 6-12 month range, and everything depends on the response to chemotherapy. My mother is entering her 15th month; she had a good response to chemo, but everything returned after just three months, and now she is on a second line of treatment. Incidentally, my mother's findings were almost identical to this, with the only difference being that her case involved a poorly differentiated neuroendocrine carcinoma. Please state the grade of the tumor.
urbandrifter4 said:I want to thank everyone who took the time to respond to my question, but the situation turned out to be far worse than we could have ever imagined. My father-in-law passed away on Saturday evening. Last week, he started his first five days of chemotherapy, and honestly, there were no side effects or nausea to speak of. Saturday felt like any other day, though he had lost his appetite over the last few days and barely ate anything. We actually took him to the ER on Saturday night thinking he might need an IV or something to bolster his strength—even though he seemed to be holding up quite well—but we just couldn't shake this uneasy feeling. While we were waiting for our turn at the ER, he simply collapsed and passed away. They tried everything to resuscitate him, but it was no use. It was clearly meant to be this way.

Please accept my deepest condolences; I am so incredibly sorry. I cannot fathom why the doctors insisted on chemo, but at least you can rest assured that you did everything humanly possible. Given such a severe diagnosis, this was perhaps the most peaceful way for him to depart. I find myself praying for my own mother as well; even though I would give my life for her and would do anything to extend hers, I pray that when her time comes, she can pass peacefully without suffering. I apologize if I was too blunt in my previous response to your post, but that is simply how I am—I prefer to look at things realistically. May God grant him peace where he is now.
urbandrifter4 said:graniteorca42 and Angela Wright, thank you both for your responses. Unfortunately, we are fully aware of all these factors. However, no matter how questionable chemotherapy might be as a solution, it seems people view it as a final straw—as if it were the only remaining option left to pursue. I fear that if we don't proceed with this therapy, we will spend the rest of our lives haunted by the question of whether we could have achieved something more through it. Furthermore, there is the issue of whether he can even tolerate it; no one has bothered to mention that to us yet. Every doctor simply says, "just try it." I honestly don't know what to think anymore.

Greetings again. Everything I have shared with you is based strictly on the experiences of those close to me. My grandmother passed away two years ago from metastatic liver cancer; she received no treatment whatsoever, and as I mentioned, she lived for only a year after the metastases were discovered. My mother is currently battling the same thing. When she was supposed to begin chemo just over a year ago, her doctor expressed uncertainty about whether she would survive the treatment itself, given that she had just finished treating a severe pulmonary thromboembolism and required intensive care. Yet, she is still here, having endured everything, starting her first round of therapy just ten days after being discharged from the pulmonary ward. What I told you earlier is merely my own opinion, and of course, it may not be correct. It is best that you discuss this directly with him, and then I can only hope that whatever decision you make proves to be the right one. Is it true that when a person has nothing left to lose, they should perhaps take the risk, much like my mother did? In her case, it paid off. Then again, one must consider the outcome—specifically, the patient's quality of life. My hesitation stems from his current, truly dire liver condition, but who knows? Miracles do happen. Regardless, I wish you luck; I hope a miracle occurs for you just as it did for us.
urbandrifter4 said:Discharge diagnosis: C22.0 Hepatocellular carcinoma
diagnosis: C22.0 Inoperable hepatocellular carcinoma
C77.2 Bilateral lymph node metastasis
C79.7 Bilateral adrenal gland metastasis
C78.0 Lung metastasis
C79.8 Spleen metastasis
B18.1 Hepatitis B
K74.6 Cirrhotic hepatitis
I10 Hypertension
L08.9 Cellulitis of the right lower leg
Doctor's recommendations: liver-protective diet, Augmentin, Lasix, Aldactone, Tarka, chemotherapy.
Blood work from two days ago, taken for chemotherapy:
Lkc 6.5. erythrocytes 6.41, hemoglobin 147, hematocrit 0.499, MCV 77.8, MCH 22.9, MCHC 295, platelets 132, RDW 24.3, lymphocytes 14, creatinine 230, potassium 4.6, CRP 18.0
The handwriting is a bit messy, my apologies, but if anyone happens to know anything based on this, I would be grateful.

Unfortunately, what you have shared here is quite grim. From what I can gather, there is a liver tumor with extensive metastases in the lymph nodes and lungs, compounded by hepatitis and cirrhosis. As I have mentioned before, anyone attempting to offer "well-meaning" advice at this stage would merely be suggesting symptomatic therapy. One must eliminate fluid intake as much as possible (personally, I have observed a woman with failing liver function where they had to drain entire buckets of fluid from her abdomen); something for pain management; and, looking at these blood results, the kidneys are in very poor condition. Truly, what could one possibly hope to achieve with chemotherapy here? More importantly, would the patient even be able to endure such treatment given the current state of the liver? I sincerely wish this patient nothing but the most peaceful days possible.
urbandrifter4 said:Greetings to everyone, though I feel a deep sense of regret that we even have to gather on a thread like this.
To my great sorrow, my husband's father has been diagnosed with a liver tumor. I am reaching out here in hopes that someone patient might be willing to clarify a few things for us, as we are currently quite confused and finding it difficult to obtain any concrete information.
He is being treated in the nephrology department at a hospital outside of New York City, where he first received diagnoses of cirrhosis, then hepatitis C, and now the liver tumor. This particular hospital doesn't have its own oncologist; instead, the specialist travels in from New York City. Consequently, no one in the family was present during the consultations between the patient and the oncologist, nor have we been able to get in touch with the doctor to hear what was actually said. When we asked how the doctor explained things to the patient, they refused to listen to our concerns, claiming the patient is in a semi-conscious state and barely remembers the conversation. The attending physician gave us very vague information, distancing themselves by stating they aren't an oncologist and therefore cannot provide specifics. They told us the tumor has progressed to a stage where surgery is impossible; it has metastasized to the spleen and other organs (we aren't sure which ones). Chemotherapy has been prescribed, and he is set to receive his first dose this Monday.
We haven't even received the discharge papers from the hospital yet; apparently, they aren't ready.
A massive issue we are facing is fluid retention. He is on certain pills that, in our estimation, aren't doing anything. The general practitioner suggested monitoring his reactions—sometimes giving the full dose, sometimes half—but in the few days he's been home, there hasn't been any improvement whatsoever. His skin is cracking, and he seems more swollen with every passing day. Is it normal for there to be no effect at all, or should we perhaps try different medications?
His immunity is weakening by the day; he is visibly fading. I understand these are the natural consequences of everything happening, but when we sought medical advice on how to bolster his immune system, the doctor's only explanation was to take Silymarin tablets to improve liver function, eat fruits and vegetables, and that’s it! Nothing else is needed! I see various supplements being mentioned here for immune support—must we truly resort to scouring the internet for such information because doctors refuse to even offer suggestions on what might help?
In the discharge instructions he received, a "hepatoprotective diet" was recommended (perhaps that isn't the exact term, as you all likely know). If anyone could elaborate on what this diet entails, I would appreciate it. According to our doctor, it simply means eating anything except for very fatty foods and avoiding alcohol.
The last explanation we received from the doctor was that if we have further questions, we should ask the oncologist administering the chemotherapy. Until then, I am pleading with anyone who has knowledge regarding this disease to offer some insight. Who else should we turn to? Do we have the right to seek a second opinion in New York City? What other treatment options might still be available? I would be extremely grateful for any information. Feel free to PM me.


I am so sorry, but unfortunately, the prognosis in this situation is not good. My grandmother passed away from metastatic liver cancer, and when she began retaining water in her legs, the hospital managed it slightly at first, but it didn't last long before it became uncontrollable and impossible to manage. Even in her stage, they didn't recommend any specific diet to her. In her case, she refused therapy immediately upon discovery; she was still doing okay back then, aside from weight loss, and she passed away a year after the metastases were found. The only solace is that she passed away without pain; she ate without trouble until her final day, and then she just drifted away within an hour one morning. Perhaps in these cases, the best course is to focus as much as possible on symptomatic relief to make the patient comfortable. Regardless, may God grant him ease, and strength to you as well.
melloworca6 said:Excellent. There is actually a perfect subforum dedicated specifically to topics like this, right here: Alternative Medicine. I would kindly ask that you move this discussion over to that other thread, as posting about this topic here isn't permitted.

I would like to remind everyone once again about the rules outlined in the Health PDF: Health Subforum RulesIt’s particularly focused on this:

The Health subforum is closely linked to... conventional medicineEverything here must be grounded in hard science. We will not tolerate the imposition of alternative viewpoints or unproven treatment methods within this space. To be clear, anything lacking official medical backing or scientific validation—methods deemed ineffective or potentially harmful by the medical community—is classified under Alternative Medicine. If you want to discuss those topics, please move to the designated Alternative Medicine subforum. Furthermore, promoting any medication that hasn't been cleared by the FDA is strictly prohibited.

I want to thank those individuals who provided such thoughtful responses. It seems there are far too many people out there looking to profit from the misfortunes of others. I am currently dealing with a sick mother myself; we have been fighting this battle for a year now, and I can say with absolute certainty that nothing short of official, standard medicine has given her as much life as she has had. I am not denying that certain natural remedies might offer some benefits, but if I may offer some well-intentioned advice to anyone facing this situation: do not abandon chemotherapy. Use natural supplements only as a complement to your primary treatment. While it is true that every individual is different and reacts to treatment in their own way, for the vast majority, there is simply no way out without chemo. Don't let yourselves be deceived. Before my mother began her treatment, I did my homework. I read an immense amount of material and didn't rule anything out prematurely. I even read one of those famous books that claims to debunk chemotherapy, only to find it was riddled with contradictions. Similarly, I delved into various materials regarding Alternative Medicine, which were filled with even more inconsistencies and conflicting theories. Perhaps—and I emphasize *perhaps*—one out of every hundred people might succeed with an alternative method, but personally, I refuse to gamble with those kind of statistics. Today, I am profoundly grateful to the doctors and top-tier specialists who have kept my mother alive and in excellent condition for over a year despite having an extremely malignant tumor. My regards to everyone. Please, think carefully about this.
Sophia Davis4 said:Angela Wright, please, I see you have so much experience and life wisdom, help me....
Only a month ago, all of this was happening to someone else; today, it is happening to me, and twice over.
On July 24th, I lost my aunt; she passed away within ten days of being diagnosed with primary liver carcinoma. She wasn't even aware of what was happening to her—she died overnight. They told me she just fell asleep, essentially; her kidneys failed and she suffered from fluid buildup. They say she was lucky because she only had a few days of pain. I haven't even processed that she is gone before lightning strikes me again. Since July 13th, my mother has been treated for pneumonia, then an infection, and finally, an ultrasound revealed gallbladder inflammation. They performed surgery to open and close it. It turns out to be carcinoma with metastases in the liver. Everything else seems clear, or so it appears, but they say there is no hope for her. They are giving her a few months to live. For two days, I just wailed, trying to gather some strength and information. We went to Merkur Hospital, where they said perhaps removal might be possible, but first, she needs to recover from the infection she likely contracted following that unsuccessful surgery. Please, I need help. What awaits us? I am not ready to say goodbye to both parents in such a short span of time. I must, and I want to, give everything I have to help Mom fight this. Please, does anyone have any experience with this type of cancer? She is doing okay for now; she has an appetite—actually, too much—she stays strong for Dad, and she stays brave for me. Believe me, I am screaming inside; my entire world is falling apart...🙂


Greetings everyone. I am new to this forum, though I have been fighting for my mother's life for quite some time now.
I am responding to you because this specific type of tumor is incredibly rare, and you are the first person I have encountered discussing it here.
I am from a small town near Jacksonville, and last August, my mother was diagnosed in the exact same manner (during surgery for gallstones) with a gallbladder tumor that had metastasized to the liver and the lymph nodes in the retroperitoneum. Now, while my mother was incredibly lucky to have been operated on by the best surgeon in the country for these types of tumors, that is a whole other story—a cinematic saga of how she even made it to the operating room. He cleared everything during the surgery, but my mother unfortunately suffered two severe postoperative complications. First, she developed enterocolitis from the antibiotics, followed by a pulmonary embolism. She survived it all, and two months after the surgery, she began chemotherapy, which she couldn't start any sooner. When she started chemo, she already had two metastases in the liver and one in the lymph nodes (in just two months). She completed eight rounds of chemotherapy, and by May of this year, her scans were clear. Unfortunately, this August, we are facing the same situation: three metastases in the same location once again. She is currently starting her second line of chemotherapy. What I particularly want to emphasize is that my mother was already a heart patient and 80% disabled due to an old car accident involving severe spinal injuries. And on top of all that, she gets this. When she was operated on, the prognosis was less than a year, even with successful chemotherapy; they didn't even believe she would survive the first round (she received it only ten days after finishing treatment for the pulmonary embolism). I didn't have much faith either, yet here she is, right beside me. Throughout the illness, Mom has felt remarkably good regarding the tumor itself; she could eat, she looked well, and she had no pain whatsoever. It is the same now; if someone didn't know, they wouldn't believe she had gone through any of this. Have hope; miracles do happen. I realize this is just extending her life, but as I said, we wouldn't have dared to wish for this in our wildest dreams. After the first three rounds of chemo last year, the tumor shrank by nearly 90%, and one metastasis disappeared entirely. Mom tolerated the extremely aggressive therapy exceptionally well. As for the type of tumor, besides gallbladder tumors being extremely rare, my mother "hit" an even rarer variety: a poorly differentiated neuroendocrine carcinoma—the "grand prize" among tumors, the absolute worst. Just do not give up until the very end. My head was in total confusion, I survived terrible shocks, and now I am somehow pushing forward; I am a bit more stable, but it still hurts deeply whenever I think about it. Even here, medical conditions can be difficult, though my mother was fortunate enough to encounter an Oncologist who is a true specialist in these specific tumors, and by pure chance, we found her.
I would appreciate hearing how things are progressing on your end, and I will be keeping your mother in my prayers.
Sophia Davis4 said:Angela Wright, please, I see you have so much experience and life wisdom, help me....
Only a month ago, all of this was happening to someone else; today, it is happening to me, and twice over.
On July 24th, I lost my aunt; she passed away within ten days of being diagnosed with primary liver carcinoma. She wasn't even aware of what was happening to her; she died overnight. They told me she just fell asleep, essentially—she suffered from fluid buildup because her kidneys failed. They say she was lucky because she only had a few days of pain. I haven't even fully processed that she is gone, and now a new bolt of lightning has struck me. Since July 13th, my mother has been treated for pneumonia, then an inflammation of the gallbladder, and finally, an ultrasound revealed gallbladder carcinoma with metastases in the liver. Everything else seems clear, at least it appears so, but they are saying there is no hope. They are giving her a few months. For two days, I just wailed a little, trying to gather my strength and information. I went to Merkur Hospital, and they said perhaps removal might be possible, but first, she needs to recover from the complications likely caused by that unsuccessful initial surgery. I am begging for help. What awaits us? I am not ready to say goodbye to both parents in such a short span of time. I must, and I want to, give everything I have to help my mother beat this. Please, does anyone have any experience with this specific type? She is doing okay for now; she actually has too much of an appetite, eating out of grief for my father and staying brave for me. Believe me, I am screaming inside; my entire world is falling apart...🙂


Greetings. I am truly sorry that you are going through this, as I find myself in the exact same situation. My mother has been fighting gallbladder cancer for a year now, which at the time of discovery had already spread to the liver and several lymph nodes in the retroperitoneum. Following surgery, she underwent her first line of chemotherapy consisting of Cisplatin and Vepesid, totaling eight treatments. At the start of therapy, she had two metastases in the liver and one in the local lymph nodes (this was recorded a month after the surgery where everything was cleared; I mention this only to illustrate how aggressive this tumor is). In May of this year, after those eight treatments, she was clear, but the CT scan in August revealed two new metastases in the liver and again in those lymph nodes. She is now receiving a second line of therapy—5FU, Dtic, and epirubicin—even though it isn't the standard for her specific tumor type, because she wouldn't be able to tolerate anything stronger (we are dealing with a very rare, poorly differentiated neuroendocrine carcinoma). She never experienced any symptoms regarding the tumor itself, and she is currently in good condition. Before the diagnosis, there were no symptoms, except for one day when some moderate pain appeared on the right side of her back along with tightness around her waist. They originally diagnosed it as gallstones, and it was only when they performed the surgery that the true diagnosis was established. You mentioned that your mother was being treated for pneumonia; I am wondering how long that lasted before this diagnosis was made? My mother had respiratory issues a few months prior to this and was treated for bronchitis, while her sedimentation rate was 70, yet no one paid any attention to it. It turned out that was the sign of the underlying problem. I would appreciate it if you could write back about everything that is happening, and I will gladly share anything you need to know.