Posts by gentlemarlin14

Folks, things have become significantly more complicated for us here. It isn't actually due to the progression of the cancer, but rather because of sheer negligence and mistakes made during a rectal surgery. Essentially, after the operation, my father was sent home with a massive wound infection. Out of fear of sepsis, we treated the wound with antibiotics at a private clinic... and thank God, that part is under control now. However, due to intense bladder pain, we took Dad to the ER three separate times. Each time, they simply swapped out his catheter, explaining that it should be impossible to feel pain while urinating since the catheter is in place. They kept sending us home, suggesting we go to a specialized clinic because the pain likely meant the disease had reached a terminal stage. Finally, after insisting with the surgeon treating the wound, the catheter was removed. When I brought Dad home, he ended up urinating through the rectal wound. In total shock, I called 911, and they admitted him immediately. Then came the bombshell: there is a hole in his bladder. The Mjeruh was almost certainly punctured during the surgery, even though nobody has explicitly confirmed it to us. Now, he faces another surgery to stitch it up. We are terrified he won't pull through because he is so incredibly weak. Naturally, we are heading to a different hospital; I refuse to let these butchers touch him again. What an absolute nightmare.

Michael Cruz28 said:Hello,

Testing for the EGFR gene mutation.
The results are in: this specific sample didn't show any of the listed mutations.

Here are my mother's test results. I have a gut feeling this isn't exactly the news we were hoping for either, and it looks like targeted therapy might not be an option at this stage...

That’s the end of it regarding the right lung lobe.

Now we’re just playing the waiting game for the bronchoscopy results from the left lung. In the meantime, I sent over the translations for the right lung findings and the PET scan to a clinic in Germany. They got back to me saying they’re currently working on scheduling an appointment to potentially move forward with surgery on the right lung.
I haven't received any feedback from the team at Jordanovac yet; they're still waiting on the results for the left rib.

My strategy is to consult with both medical teams—our local specialists and the experts over in Germany—and then simply leave the final decision to my Mom. It’s her journey, so she should be the one to decide how we move forward with her treatment.
In the meantime, should we start looking into some aggressive alternative treatments?

Does anyone else have any advice to share? Honestly, I’ve been hitting a bit of a rough patch mentally lately, and I'm feeling pretty low. Should I go ahead and schedule an appointment with a psychiatrist?

Thank you.

I honestly can't recommend seeing a psychologist enough—not just for clinical reasons, but for your own sanity. When you’re navigating these kinds of heavy, high-stress chapters, having a professional to talk to makes a world of difference. My sister and I are actually walking through very similar situations right now, and we’ve both started seeing therapists to cope. As a mother of two little girls, I know firsthand that I have to stay grounded; I need to be at my absolute best for them, even when everything else feels like it's falling apart.

Hello everyone... I follow along with your updates and read everything you post, and I want to wish you all nothing but the best of luck in your ongoing battles.
Not too long ago, I wrote about colorectal cancer and how my father was essentially written off by his doctors. I also shared my anger and frustration toward the surgeon who dismissed him so easily. Well, our fight continues... the pH results just came back, and they are significantly better than we anticipated. We’re looking at chemotherapy and a Dukes C. classification. It’s funny how much that "C" weighed on us. Based on the initial prognosis, we were bracing ourselves for Dukes D, and we hadn't even allowed ourselves to consider anything else. So, this was quite the positive surprise. A lot has happened since my last update. The wound he had when he first came home became heavily infected, and things took a turn for the worse. We were so close to sepsis that the visiting nurse mentioned the site was actually starting to look greenish. He was in absolute agony from the infection. We eventually sought a second opinion from a different surgeon, who is now treating the wound by injecting antibiotics directly into it. His condition improved noticeably after that second approach. Regarding the metastases, this new doctor’s take is that things aren't as bleak as previously thought and that there is still plenty of ground to cover. When we presented him with the original hospital prognosis, he seemed genuinely surprised and simply remarked, "Unfortunately, that was just them playing it safe." And there you have it. We are moving forward with a much more positive outlook, holding onto the hope that Dad will be with us for several more years.

Michelle Cook83 said:Honestly, what that individual did was incredibly distasteful. Everything Angela Wright told you is spot on. Most of us here are part of a small circle where someone close—a spouse, a parent, a sibling—is facing a malignancy, and we’re all navigating that same crisis. My own father dealt with the exact same illness as yours; he isn't much younger than your dad, so I truly get how you're feeling. It’s an isolating experience when you don't have anyone in your immediate circle to guide you through the complexities of this process. And regarding the legalities? Your father is absolutely entitled to everything he's asking for; there's no room for compromise there. Hang in there, everyone. Stay strong.

Thank you so much for those kind words. Sending strength to your father as well.

Michelle Cook83 said:I understand what you're going through; we all feel the weight when our loved ones face tragedy. However, patients aren't typically transferred to oncology immediately after surgery. They need time to recover from the procedure first, and during that window, appointments with an oncologist are scheduled. A surgeon can only note that further evaluation and treatment should be handled by oncology. What kind of lawsuit? Pull yourself together and get your father scheduled with an oncologist, because ideally, therapy should begin within 6 to 8 weeks post-op.

In our experience, they transfer patients about 5 or 6 days after surgery—I know this because my father’s roommate, who had nearly the exact same diagnosis, was transferred, while he was sent home. That’s how the individual in question spoke to us after the operation, telling us they were preparing him for oncology. Well, we never received an appointment. The lawsuit exists because his prognostications effectively robbed my sister and me of ten years of life. He is a surgeon; he doesn't have the authority to issue such prognoses because that isn't his field. A colleague of his actually confirmed this to me, refusing to offer any prognosis for that very reason. AND, it’s also because my father didn't receive the physical therapist he was entitled to after such a grueling surgery. It's because I was told almost directly that he’s old and not worth the investment. I am fully aware that the odds are slim, but if there is even a 1% chance to extend his life even slightly, I intend to take it rather than let someone snatch it away. We don't have the luxury of waiting 6 to 8 weeks; we need to act fast. Someone mentioned throwing piles of money at private specialists earlier. Back in 2011, a prostate tumor was successfully treated with significant help from a private oncologist, and we spent $667 on that. How many thousands of dollars has my father contributed to the American healthcare system over his 42-year career? You misunderstood—you don't go to a private oncologist to buy drugs or have them perform the primary treatment; rather, everything moves faster through them. They coordinate the care, whether it continues at Pula Hospital or, as he puts it, if Pula turns us away, we head to Rijeka because a smaller facility has to follow the lead of the larger one. They provide recommendations, facilitate doctor consultations, advise on the best course of action, and ensure you get all necessary test results incredibly quickly. If the surgeon did consult with oncologists, I assume he informs the family. No one told us anything. I am furious at how my father is being treated—as if he is just another number, just another old man. To me, he isn't. And just like the first time, I will fight for every single day of my father's life. I have no issue with his surgical work; he performed the operation flawlessly. But all he should have done was say, "My part is finished; now you need to coordinate with the oncologists."

I am fully aware that the surgeon isn't the one making the final call here, but unfortunately, he made his decision anyway.... He refused to even refer him to the oncologist, let alone schedule a consultation. Typically, patients in this situation are prepped and transferred to oncology immediately following surgery. Then you have my Father-in-law, who doesn't understand any of this, saying things like, "So what if they move me to oncology?"... Honestly, oops. I’m just at a loss for words with him at this point.... My lawsuit against him is practically a done deal.

Thank you all so much. We finally got Dad home yesterday... and he's doing okay. Mom mentioned he actually slept through the entire night. As for the individual I never want to lay eyes on again... thank God he wrote out the discharge papers. Our private oncologist is planning to move forward with more oncology treatment. We actually handed him those results at the very last second, because if he had written down "palliative care," we would have been stuck begging a doctor for a referral to the hospital in Rijeka just to get a second opinion. Instead, we’re going to fight this the easier way. Over the next eight days, the goal is to get his strength up so he can start therapy as soon as possible.

I should also mention that our oncologist informed us that the life expectancy for people battling colon cancer with metastases in the liver and lungs has increased—we're looking at anywhere from 30 months up to 5 years now. Of course, that’s assuming they undergo therapy... without it, he said they wouldn't last three months. What else is there to say? We ended up paying $50 just for that consultation... and I say that so no one thinks we have money to throw around. That amount represents two full months of what my father pays for his supplemental insurance. It’s honestly a disgrace how our healthcare system operates.

Hello everyone. I haven't had a chance to catch up on all the posts yet... I'll dive in when I can find a spare moment. My family is going through an incredibly difficult time right now, so if anyone here has navigated a similar situation, I would truly appreciate any advice you might have. Back in 2011, my father was diagnosed with prostate cancer. We immediately sought help at a private clinic where we met a wonderful oncologist who guided our next steps. Because we went private, we were able to get all his tests done in a single day—results that would have taken at least six months to process at a public hospital. Dad went straight to a facility in Rijeka for radiation, and thanks to that quick response, his prostate cancer was effectively treated. I should mention that when Dad later returned to the public system with all those private records, he was actually mocked for them. Fast forward to about 20 days ago: Dad started experiencing severe abdominal pain. He saw his primary care doctor, who scheduled a surgical consultation for June 5th, 2015. My sister and I begged him to see the specific oncologist we mentioned earlier instead, but he refused for the reasons I noted above. Eventually, I had to take him to the ER. After an examination, they identified colon cancer, and he was admitted immediately. Tests revealed metastases in his liver and some involvement in his lungs. The surgeons told us the plan was to operate on the colon, followed by chemotherapy. He had surgery last Tuesday, and honestly, it went beautifully. He handled it well; by the second day, we were helping him walk, and he even started eating again. He’s recovering remarkably well. However, during the follow-up the next day, the surgeon informed us that Dad’s life expectancy was very short and that they were simply preparing him for oncology and palliative care. My sister and I are there with him every single day—helping him move, exercising with him, and making sure we keep the mood light with jokes and laughter, just so he doesn't sink into despair and can gather strength for the fight ahead. We were also quite puzzled that they didn't even send him to a physiotherapist after surgery. But we made the best of it. Then, the other day, came the shock. That same surgeon tells us that Dad only has about three months left and that they won't be sending him for chemotherapy at all. Instead, it's just home care and palliative care. Essentially, "take him home and wait for the end." And this is with the caveat that he is 74 years old. What else do they expect? After the initial shock wore off, my sister and I decided right then and there that we aren't giving up on our dad, whether he is 74 or 100. He is our father. Yesterday, armed with only two pieces of paperwork and a verbal description of the metastases, we went back to that original oncologist we mentioned. He was genuinely stunned that someone had essentially written Dad off so easily. While we were there, the oncologist called the surgeon to discuss the situation. The surgeon described everything *except* the part where he told us Dad only had three months left. The oncologist instructed them to discharge him as soon as possible. After that call, the oncologist told us that while the situation isn't ideal, it isn't as bleak as we were led to believe, and that Dad absolutely has the right to further treatment, including chemotherapy. He mentioned a new medication that can shrink metastases so significantly that the liver might even become operable again. To top it all off, the most critical PET Scan results still haven't even come back. My sister and I couldn't believe our ears. The oncologist handed us a paper stating the patient was being treated palliatively (as if he were terminal) and that he was requesting all necessary documentation to proceed with full oncological treatment. Now, I am praying to God that the surgeon doesn't write "palliative care" on the official discharge summary. If he does, I'll be forced to drag Dad all the way back to Rijeka (we live in Pula) just to get the chemo authorized. Is this normal? It feels like he was written off simply because of his age—as if it's not worth spending money on him, or why bother with a physiotherapist or an oncologist when he's "old"? Is it right that my father worked for 42 years, paid into Social Security, and spent his entire retirement paying for supplemental insurance, only to have his right to chemotherapy stripped away at the finish line? If chemotherapy buys him just two more months, that is a victory in our eyes, because we are not giving up on him.