Posts by Megan Fowler78

Out of habit, I find myself scrolling through this forum every now and then—just wanted to pop in and say hello to everyone. I really hope you all are hanging in there; stay strong while you're fighting those battles for yourselves and your loved ones. I lost my person, but man, I fought until the very last second because I truly believed there was still a chance... it was everything I had. Now? It’s just hard. I’m stuck in this loop where I don't know what to do with myself, constantly replaying every single memory in my head, searching for some kind of mistake. Did I forget something? Did I mess up? Was there something I should have said but didn't? It's exhausting.
I also noticed that rose44 isn't around lately, which is actually starting to worry me—I'd love to find a way to reach out and check in on her.
Wishing you nothing but the best.

Angela Wright said:Thanks, dear—and honestly, I’m hoping for the best too, even though life has decided to throw me one more massive curveball. My baby was born via emergency C-section during week 28 because of my preeclampsia. My organs were starting to fail, so there just wasn't any other choice. He was only about 2 pounds at birth, and since then, he’s battled two nasty infections, stage 2/3 brain damage, and seizures. But he's a fighter—he's already up to nearly 4 pounds after 50 days, and they say he's doing okay for now, which is the main thing. We're praying he gets discharged by Easter, but we know the road through rehab is going to be incredibly long and brutal. We don't even know the full extent of the damage yet. I don't even need to go into detail about what I'm going through—I just think back to everything I dealt with regarding my mother's neurological episodes. I always used to say that after everything I went through with her, nothing could ever break me... unless, God forbid, something happened to my child. And well, it looks like God decided I needed a lesson in that.

I am praying to God that everything turns out okay for you and your little one, and I'm sending so much warmth your way—I truly hope you can leave all this darkness behind soon.
I actually broke down crying reading your recent posts this morning. I mean, seriously, where is the justice in this? Wasn't all that suffering and stress with your sick mother enough for one lifetime?
I wish you nothing but the absolute best. That little guy has definitely inherited your grit and courage, so I know he'll fight his way through this and grow up to be one of those people who actually makes the world a better place.
Sending hugs to you both.

Lisa White54 said:Honey, my husband’s own doctor was diagnosed with lung cancer. And he’s still working. You’d think—honestly, you would think—that he’d show a little more empathy, seeing as he’s looking at this disease from the exact same angle now, but nope... he couldn't care less. Our last check-up was so bad, so incredibly cold, that I spent an entire week spiraling into a depression just because of how that doctor treated my husband.
It’s like, oh, it doesn't matter if my husband is hurting, nooo! There’s absolutely no need for any tests... nooo! We’re just imagining things! It's terrifying.
When they are the ones hurting, well, what then?! Does nothing matter then?? Is everything just irrelevant when it hits them too??

👍👍👍
I really admire what a fighter you are. Reading your posts on this forum over the last two years, you've been such an example to me of how a person can be stronger than anything else. 😉My husband and I have been fighting this for 27 months now, and we're still pushing forward.
Sending love to everyone on the forum—I truly wish cancer would just vanish from the face of the earth.🙏🙏🙏

Don't get me wrong—I truly, deeply lament everything that's happening in our old territories, and honestly, sometimes it’s just uncomfortable when someone reminds me how difficult things have become... It's a blessing that we have private insurance here, though; it makes choosing a treatment path so much easier, and once we consult with a doctor and ask for something specific, we get it immediately. Maybe it actually helps sometimes when I raise my voice a bit, shed a few tears, and just pour my heart out... over here, you really have to keep a smile on your face to ensure the reaction is quick. Last August, when my husband was on the edge and I was absolutely panicking, you were the one who snapped me out of it, Angela Wright, by writing exactly what steps I needed to take. I seriously don't have the words to express my gratitude to all of you because I read every single post, and so much of this has helped me.

Who can actually say for sure what’s right and what isn't? Honestly, is there anything worse than that gnawing guilt—that feeling that you could have done more, maybe actually helped? Back in February, my husband was in a catastrophic state: metastases in the lungs (where the primary tumor is), liver metastases, adrenal metastases... plus fluid buildup near the diaphragm... It was just horrific!!! The oncologist (who we switched with after that, by the way) told us the chances were basically zero, but we decided to push through and try four more cycles of chemo anyway. In the middle of all this, we met a woman who told us that back in Mexico the doctors had completely given up on her—but once she went to Perth for radiofrequency ablation, the results were absolutely fantastic when she returned to Belgrade?! Well, my dear man made it through all four rounds of chemo, and the scans showed everything is clear except for three remaining liver metastases, which have shrunk down to a third of their original size! We've already coordinated with a new oncologist to do two more rounds of chemo, just in case we can clear those last bits out. So now I'm left wondering: is it the trust in this new, optimistic doctor, is it the chemo itself, or was it that belief in one last shot (the radiofrequency ablation)? Or did all of it just converge to create these results? I don't know. The only thing that matters is that we keep moving forward—we have to believe there's a chance to either cure it or, at the very least, stop it in its tracks...

brightangler18 said:I honestly don't know—all my test results are back at my mom's place, and let's be real, I'm clueless when it comes to medical stuff. I'm a law student, so we're talking two completely different worlds here.

Look, the silver lining here is that it was caught early. I still have to head back in next week for more tests—I don't even know which ones, honestly—but there's real hope that because we caught it so soon and things haven't gotten too bad yet, the outcome could be positive. I don't have the actual paperwork right in front of me, so I can't give you any specifics, but man, my mood has been all over the place today. I'm just spiraling. I'm not even 20 years old yet, for crying out loud.

👍 Hey, keep your chin up. You're only 19 and you've got your whole life ahead of you... Things are going to turn out fine, especially if you stay positive and actually believe it.

Has anyone heard from Lisa White54? She was supposed to head out for her husband's follow-up appointment at the end of February, and then—poof—nothing since. Honestly, I'm just hoping everything turned out okay and she pops back up here soon... 🙏
Hang in there, everyone fighting the good fight

Last year, my wife was diagnosed with lung cancer. She went through the whole gauntlet—chemotherapy, lung radiation, even some preventative radiation on her head... and now, after nine months, the cancer is back. It’s spread to her lungs, her liver, even her adrenal glands. We jumped straight back into chemo on the oncologist's recommendation, though they didn't sugarcoat things—they told us straight up that the chances of stopping it are basically zero.
The other day, I happened to run into this woman from Belgrade who mentioned Dr. John Holt—he runs this clinic in Perth that uses radio waves to treat cancer (www.radiowaveclinic.com). Does anyone here actually know anything about this method? Is there any truth to it?
Hang in there, everyone. I just really hope this damn disease stops stealing our loved ones from us...

casualrider21 said:I know exactly how you feel. That news hit me like a freight train four months ago when I first heard my dad's diagnosis.
It’s hard—it’s pure shock—and it’ll hold you under for a while, but eventually, you learn how to carry the weight of this disease.

My best advice? Act fast. Get moving with the actual treatment immediately.
And then—this is what I tell everyone, seriously—don't skip the alternatives. Focus on everything for immunity: antioxidants, vitamins... all those "miracles"... (because I’ve seen the results firsthand)
There is no giving up—there is only the fight. It isn't easy, and it certainly isn't short, but I promise you'll feel like you're on top of the world the moment you see that first sign of improvement.

By the way, do your own research. They basically told my dad he wouldn't make it past last Christmas (meaning he only had about two months left)😳 . Now? You wouldn't even recognize him. He’s improved physically—his whole look has changed—and he’s back on his feet. He’s sharper, too, and eats like he hasn't seen food in weeks. The color has actually come back to his face...
I realize it doesn't happen overnight, but it’s moving in the right direction. We're four months in and the fight is still going strong!

So, honey, from day one, stay positive. Don't let fear take over—stay upbeat and encouraging for him.
Every body reacts differently. I think we've all heard those stories where they say, "They wrote him off, and look at him now..."

GOOD LUCK.. I'm right here if you need any advice or just someone to talk to!

P.S. Are there any metastases anywhere yet?

Thanks everyone for the support, because honestly, I'm still shaking and can't seem to pull myself together.
We started treatment and he's already finished three days of chemo, and in a week, he's back for more chemo and radiation... No metastases yet, at least that's what they've told us so far.

My entire world just imploded three weeks ago. What started as a routine checkup for what we thought was just a common cold turned into a nightmare when they diagnosed my wife with Small Cell Lung Cancer.
I am absolutely terrified—it’s like I can’t even wrap my head around the fact that this is actually happening. The specialist overseeing her care told me there's maybe a 20% chance, and perhaps an 18-month window. I haven't told her the truth yet. Honestly? I just looked her in the eye and said there's an 80% chance she'll be fine. I'm scared that if I tell her the real numbers, it'll just crush her right at the beginning of treatment—even though she's one of the strongest, most steady people I've ever known. Maybe lying isn't the "right" thing to do, but God, I'm just so afraid... What am I supposed to do now? How do you pretend everything is okay? How am I supposed to look at the person I love and still try to find joy in the future?