Nancy Thomas18 said:I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the lovely words of support from everyone who reached out to me. Honestly, these last few days have been such a struggle, and I’ve been feeling pretty anxious about whether I’ll have to go under the knife again because things have gotten a little complicated. I just can't seem to get rid of this abscess forming under my liver, though thankfully it's much smaller now than it was after that first surgery. This Friday, I’m finally heading in to set my chemotherapy schedule, and honestly, the whole situation is just overwhelming. Reading through so many posts here, it seems like everyone goes through such terrible side effects, and I’m really scared about how I’m going to manage it all, but I know I have to. My biggest wish right now is just to live long enough to see my son graduate. If I can hold on for him, then three more years isn't asking for too much, right? I really hope I can make that happen—I don't want to be a jinx! Hang in there, everyone fighting for those they love most; we patients just have to keep wrestling our way through, one day at a time... pushing toward a little bit of happiness. Sending love to everyone, and my deepest sympathies to those of you who have lost someone.
Hey! First things first: there is NO GIVING UP! My mom is actually fighting breast cancer right now, and she just wrapped up her eight rounds of chemo without any major side effects at all. We were fully expecting much worse complications, honestly! She feels a little wiped out for the first couple of days, maybe wanting to stay in bed for a day or two, but the rest of the week she’s out walking around the park, hitting the city, and hanging out with her girlfriends... I totally get why the thought of chemo is freaking you out, but please try not to let the fear take over. Almost every side effect can be managed. Hang in there and keep checking in with us! NO GIVING UP! Kisses!😉
electricgardener14 said:My husband, after six months of agonizing pain, suffering, and pure fear, closed his eyes forever on November 18th. I couldn't help him—nobody could. This illness moved so incredibly fast; it felt like it was always one step ahead of us. Honestly, I don't even know what I'm feeling right now; it’s just this heavy numbness, this sense of helplessness, and then suddenly this surge of anger toward God and at myself because I couldn't find a way to save him. And oh, how he wanted to live! Even when he became immobile, when he couldn't move his arms or legs anymore, that spark in his eyes, that hunger for life, never faded. Sometimes I get this crushing feeling that I gave up before he did, like maybe I should have fought harder or tried one more thing, like I let him go too soon. It’s so incredibly hard, and I don't think I'll ever be able to forget that last conscious look in his eyes. It held all the sadness in the entire world. Does it really have to be this difficult?! Diana
Oh honey, you did everything you possibly could, and being right there by his side through it all is what matters most in the end. Please, allow yourself to grieve as much as you need to, but please believe me when I say that better days will eventually come.😘
Grace Fowler said:Hey there, my wonderful friends!!! So, my results are finally in... and honestly, I'm almost at a loss for words regarding what to tell you all... basically, the SITUATION is pretty much where we left it back in May when they diagnosed the recurrence with metastatic changes in the lungs (something just seems to have taken root there and won't let go). On the bright side, they caught some calcifications which actually show that the chemo did its job, and thankfully, the disease hasn't progressed significantly. This Monday, I’m taking everything to the oncology board so they can decide our next move—it'll likely be more chemo since I've hit the limit on how much radiation that specific area can take without overdoing it. I'm not feeling overly down about it, though; maybe I was hoping for just a tiny bit of better news, but hey, it is what it is... I'm just keeping my chin up and moving forward... although, I have to admit, even though I've been fighting this war for nearly nine years now, whenever those slightly tougher results roll in, a certain amount of anxiety always creeps in. I won't beat a dead horse by repeating myself, so I'll just say I'm pushing through.... Thank you all so much for the support... I'll check back in once I get the orders on what happens next... Stay kind and stay brave. Your Diana
I truly admire your strength! Please, just keep being that powerhouse and keep pushing forward! 🙂
casualpanther1 said:I've got some lovely news to share,
Even with my wife's diagnosis, we aren't letting it get us down; if anything, we're working harder than ever to just live our lives normally, and so far, we're actually pulling it off! We haven't let things change much since she was diagnosed. Before everything happened, she had already passed all her exams at the university, leaving only her final thesis left to write. Well, yesterday—fifteen months after the diagnosis—she successfully defended her thesis and officially graduated! Maybe this little bit of good news can serve as a reminder to someone out there not to give up, no matter what kind of diagnosis you're facing or how tough the battle gets.
Sending love to everyone,
Oh, that is just wonderful! Way to go! Such absolutely beautiful news!!!!👍
Carol Ramirez, I am just so incredibly sorry to hear that...
But you know, through everything you go through, your Grandfather will always live on within you because you carry his spirit right there in your heart...
slyseal28 said:Tomorrow, carcinoms.com should be featured in The Morning News as a web feature—it’ll probably be on that very last page, right under the weather report. Fingers crossed, everyone! Let's stay positive!
In a moment like this, where you find yourself right now, it’s so important to take all those beautiful, warm thoughts you’ve shared here on the forum and start turning them inward! It isn't always easy to give yourself that same grace and compassion, but reading your last post, I can truly see that you’re already starting to do just that. Hang in there, okay? You gave so much love to your mother, and that matters so much. Sending you a huge hug!🙂
I am just so incredibly happy to hear your wonderful news! Honestly, just keep going exactly like this—wishing you all the best of luck! It really does wonders for the soul when we get such beautiful updates like yours; they truly give us all a little extra hope! kitty thanks
shadowheron4 said:Hey there to all you true heroes and fighters out there! I just recently joined this forum and stumbled upon this thread. About three years ago, when I was 27, I had surgery for breast cancer that had spread to my lymph nodes in my armpit. I won't go into all the details of how that felt because, honestly, most of you probably know exactly what it’s like. To make matters even more intense, I had a three-year-old at the time and a husband who works in the Navy, so he was stationed halfway across the world for most of my treatment period—he had to be, just so we could afford those massive chemotherapy bills! I haven't quite managed to catch up on all your questions and answers here yet, but I would absolutely love to hear from anyone who can offer some real encouragement. You see, I’ve met so many people, read about them here and elsewhere, who talk about how the cancer came back after three, maybe five, or ten years, but I see so few stories from people who dealt with it five, seven, or ten years ago and stayed healthy—people who are truly in the clear now. Right now, I’m going through a huge mental crisis due to some family issues, plus some other health scares that have me terrified they might be linked to the cancer. Every single time I feel a twinge in my stomach, my breast, my leg, my arm, or my head—and the list goes on—the fear just takes over and I can't help but think it's back! I actually handled the initial surgeries and all the treatments really well; I felt stronger than anyone. But now? It feels like, God forbid it comes back, I just don't think I could handle it again. I have a husband who is away for much of the year, a wonderful child I struggled with because they were frequently sick—thank God nothing too serious, though we didn't realize it for a long time—parents who live far away, and really nobody else to lean on during these tough times... I feel like I've experienced enough stress in my relatively young life to last three lifetimes. I don't regret anything, I just pray to God for the strength and courage to keep going, because right now, I am running on empty. Lately, I've even been dealing with panic attacks that are making things incredibly difficult and affecting my daily life... Basically, I'm in way over my head. That's why I need to hear from people who can tell me that they once faced a terrifying cancer, beat it, and are now totally healthy... That kind of encouragement would mean the absolute world to me... Sending my best wishes to all of you, and from the bottom of my heart, I truly hope you all defeat your illnesses and become the ones who can look back in 10 or 20 years and say you are winners and healthy survivors!!! 😢
Hi! Look, I'm not going to sit here and give you a hollow "everything will be fine," but I do know people who have completely beaten cancer. My grandmother had breast cancer and recovered successfully without ever having a recurrence. My mother is currently fighting breast cancer herself and she's holding up well. I also know a gentleman who dealt with stomach cancer and metastases and made a full recovery. And I know people whose cancer did return, but they fought it and cleared it again too... So, yeah, it's all over the map. Every cancer journey is unique, and you shouldn't compare your path to anyone else's. Please, try to enjoy life; don't deprive yourself of the little things. You have a child who needs you, so please, find ways to embrace life. You have to try to stay positive, though obviously, you're allowed to have bad days too—whenever things get heavy, just come back to the forum and vent!
Angela Wright said:If I’m remembering correctly, a PET/CT scan is that specific type of imaging used to pinpoint malignant cells—basically, even if an MRI doesn't pick up a visible tumor, it doesn't mean there aren't rogue cells lurking around waiting to divide and cause trouble later on. That kind of scan can catch those tiny malignant changes super early, which really opens the door for much more effective treatment options.
Honestly, a dermatologist can usually tell exactly what's going on just by looking at the shape of a mole or a skin growth! There are all these standard clinical guidelines based on things like color, how it grows, and how quickly it changes shape over time. Don't you worry too much, though; if she told you everything looks fine, then it's okay!👍
Thank you so much for saying that, and please don't think I'm being a total alarmist, but ever since my mom got sick and I started dealing with all this medical stuff, I feel like I've turned into a complete old lady! I used to be the type of person who didn't give a second thought to minor aches or pains, but now? Now, every little thing makes me jump straight to the absolute worst-case scenario. I honestly had no idea how much there was to learn about cancer until I was suddenly thrown right into the middle of it all...
It’s so wonderful that you were able to get away for the weekend to clear your head! I truly hope you managed to get some real rest and recharge. 😉
Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:Angela Wright and Nancy Hernandez43, thank you both so much for the support—your posts really meant the world to me and helped me stay afloat!
Carol Sanchez2—it all started with this one weirdly shaped wart on his leg, so just to be safe, he went in for a checkup. It turned out to be early-stage melanoma, so they did a minor surgery under local anesthesia, and they told him he wouldn't need chemotherapy because there were no signs of metastasis; the sentinel lymph node biopsy came back negative. We spent five years doing regular follow-ups with perfectly clear results (every three months for the first year, then every six months after that), and honestly, it lulled us into a false sense of security. We finally relaxed and thought we were completely in the clear.
But now, we’re right back at square one. Only this time, the disease isn't in its early stages; it's advanced. And if we hadn't gone through with the PET/CT scan, we never would have known how far it had spread. My advice to everyone: if you've been diagnosed with MM or even if you just have a nagging suspicion, go get that scan done. Soon it'll be available via referral at the major university hospital, but even if you have to pay out of pocket—trust me, every single cent spent on it is worth it.
Wait, so what exactly is a PET/CT? I actually went in for a mole checkup just the other day since I have so many, and my dermatologist pointed out a few that she said I should keep an eye on. She just looked them over, so I don't quite get how she can tell if something is bad just by looking at it. Isn't there supposed to be some kind of deeper testing?
Lisa Harris59 said:My dad passed away on July 15th from esophageal cancer.
Even though he didn't actually pass from metastases—it was more that his last round of chemo was a bit too "intense," or so his oncologist put it—and they ended up sending him for a biopsy because of a suspicious little nodule.
That ended up causing some thinning in his lung parenchyma, basically the lining of the lungs, which is kind of like if you poke a tiny hole in a balloon; it just deflates so incredibly fast and there's nothing left. That’s exactly what happened with my dad; about ten days after receiving that specific treatment, he started feeling pain in his lungs. The issue was lymph fluid building up because of that lung damage, and once water starts filling the lungs... oh goodness, I really shouldn't go into all those medical details.
And the thing is, everything had been going so well! He didn't even lose his hair, and he was so proactive about going to all his checkups because he felt absolutely wonderful; he was actually planning to start back at work for the new school year since he worked at a school.
And just like that..
If it's any consolation, he wasn't in pain, especially since he didn't have a single metastasis. We were talking on his very last day, and then he broke out in a cold sweat. I knew deep down I was losing him, but I kept telling him, "It's okay, everything is going to be fine." By tomorrow morning, he will have moved on to the next world.
Even today, while I was lighting a candle at his graveside, I still can't quite wrap my head around the fact that he's gone. It all happened so fast.
My dear friends, please stay strong. Keep so much faith in those who are recovering, and try to stay positive no matter how incredibly difficult things get. Just keep fighting, no matter how hard it feels.
If there is anything at all I can do to help anyone, please reach out; I would truly be happy to do whatever I can.
I just don't understand!!! How could this happen? Did the doctors mess up? 😕
My partner is only 24, and he’s been fighting melanoma for five years now. We really thought the surgery had finally cleared everything, and we were busy making all these big plans for our future together, but then—out of nowhere—the PET/CT scan from two weeks ago showed metastases in the lymph nodes. Even though I’ve spent these last few years living with this constant shadow over my head, always knowing deep down that a scenario like this was possible, I just can't seem to wrap my mind around it. It feels like my entire world just flipped upside down in a single heartbeat, and suddenly nothing feels the same anymore—not the colors, not the sounds... nothing at all. The only thing keeping me going, the one little thread of hope that gets me out of bed every morning to keep pushing forward, is the belief that he might just be the one to beat those silly little positive statistics. And honestly, I am going to do absolutely everything in my power to help make that happen! That’s exactly why I’m here—I want to soak up every bit of experience, every piece of advice, and any helpful info you guys can share... anything at all that might help in any way, especially if anyone has specific insights regarding malignant melanoma.
Starting today, I’m going to begin reading through this whole thread from the very first post, because I'm sure so much valuable wisdom has already been shared.
I’m still right here following along with all of you—reading your stories, crying with you, thinking deeply about everything, and laughing whenever I can... My mom is actually handling her treatments quite well, and she just finished her second-to-last session today. That means there is just one more round of chemo left before we move on to radiation. Honestly, I am just so incredibly happy seeing how well she's holding up through it all. We did run into a few hiccups with her low white blood cell counts—specifically those neutrophils—but ever since she started taking beta Glucan, her immune system has been fantastic, and we haven't had any delays with her chemo scheduled at all. So, I figured I'd share, because maybe this little bit of info might help someone else out there.
Grace Fowler said:Hi everyone! My heart goes out to anyone who has lost their loved ones recently... honestly, sometimes I get this wave of anxiety just reading through all these stories... but I always find a way to shake it off and just keep pushing forward.. anyway, this coming Wednesday is my sixth-to-last one in this cycle... so right now, I am just laser-focused on making sure my white cell and platelet counts stay high enough so I can actually get the treatment... If God wills it, I'm heading over to a clinic in Germany next Monday for some intensive immunotherapy—I'm feeling really hopeful that this might be the thing that helps... Sending love to you all, please stay strong for me... Grace
DEAR GRACE, just keep moving forward! You've got this! 🙂
Grace Fowler said:Hey Hi everyone, I just don't know what to say.... I just finished my fifth round of chemo in this cycle... and honestly, I am absolutely wiped out, just completely drained, but there's this stubborn streak in me that keeps pushing me to keep moving forward and forward... Every single little bone in my body aches (just one of those chemo side effects) and it’s actually really hard for me to even type right now.. but this forum is my little window to the outside world. I want to wish you all so much strength, and I truly hope that no one ever gives up in their fight until they reach victory—until they are healed.... Dina from the outskirts....
You are doing amazing! Hang in there and just keep pushing forward! Please check in whenever you can, we love hearing from you! 😉
crimsonmason44 said:Hey there, my dear friends... I'm finally jumping in and posting here for the very first time, even though I've actually been lurking and reading everything you all share for about three months now. You guys are truly wonderful, and honestly, seeing your posts gives me the strength to keep pushing forward... My dad was recently diagnosed with lung adenocarcinoma. It all started about six months ago when they discovered some metastases in his brain; he had surgery to remove them, and thank God, the procedure went really well! He finished ten rounds of radiation on his head, and right now, he’s working through his second cycle of chemotherapy. He handled the first round pretty well, but this second one... well, it's been tough. He's actually in the hospital at the moment getting IV infusions because he became incredibly weak. Once this second cycle is wrapped up, we'll be heading back for more scans and tests to see where things stand. Our family's whole world changed overnight (you know how it is...) and sometimes I feel so incredibly small and alone in all of this, but this community really gives me the courage to keep going. As for "friends," let's just say I've realized how few people actually show up when things get real, which is pretty heartbreaking... but it doesn't matter, none of that matters as long as my dad starts feeling better.🙂 Hang in there, everyone! Sending a huge hug to all of you!
This forum has been such a massive help to me too, and it continues to be a lifeline... you all truly give me strength... Anyway, I'm feeling so happy today because I'm headed into town to meet up with my mom—she isn't doing well—so we're going to take a little stroll and sit down for coffee together. I am just so grateful for that simple moment... He's handling the treatments okay, so we're just taking it one step at a time and moving forward... We're holding onto hope that the final results will be good... Kisses to everyone! 😘
Angela Wright said:So, basically, dexamethasone is used to bring down swelling in any kind of tissue—whether we're talking about the brain or other parts of the body where tumors cause inflammation. But here’s the kicker: when it comes to the brain, the doses have to be way higher because you're dealing with an organ tucked inside a closed space, like the skull, so there's absolutely nowhere for that swelling to go! It can't just expand outward like other tissues in the body can, which is why that pressure causes such scary neurological issues or even leads to someone falling into a coma. It's intense! And unfortunately, while these steroids are total lifesavers, they definitely come with a heavy price tag in terms of side effects. We're talking blood sugar spikes, that "moon face" look from fluid retention, skin sensitivity, and it can even mess with your mental state... honestly, there's a whole laundry list of stuff that's probably better left unsaid because it's just so overwhelming, but when you're fighting edema, it really is the most effective tool we've got.
I wanted to reach out and ask you all about this term "Dexy"—is that actually what people call it? See, my mom was just prescribed some pills—dexamethasone... she has to take them right before her treatment and then continue for a few days after the chemo sessions. She’s starting on a brand-new chemotherapy regimen, so she needs these tablets to make sure she doesn't have any nasty allergic reactions. But oh my goodness, suddenly she's looking at taking 16 of them at once, and she has to do that on the second day, the third day, and so on. It's just such a disaster to look at! So, is "Dexy" the nickname for it, or have I completely mixed things up?