I am so sorry to hear about your sister’s illness... and don't even get me started on having to deal with that crazy doctor! Ugh!
I honestly don't get why you're running into these delays getting the transfer approved. It's ridiculous. I just transferred a guy over to my primary care physician recently, and the whole family switched dentists too. We just showed up at the clinic in downtown Chicago with some paperwork we got from the new doctor, they processed everything, and that was it. No waiting around for permission, no nothing. Just done.
It’s been exactly 40 days since my dad passed away... People love to claim that time heals all wounds, but honestly? I feel like I miss him more with every single passing day. It feels like this emptiness just keeps growing larger and heavier 🙂
Gary Torres7 said:My dad was diagnosed with a tumor near his tongue three years ago. Since then, he's been through radiation and chemo. But every single year, that damn tumor just keeps coming back. His tongue is swollen up and he can't even eat. Has anyone dealt with this kind of thing? How did you handle it?
Look, my father had metastases on his tongue when they first found the throat cancer... During surgery, they had to remove the part of the tongue where the tumor had taken hold. He didn't have issues with leaking, but because swallowing became such a nightmare, he constantly had to rely on a nasogastric tube just to get enough nutrition. They would set the tube up for him at the hospital and then back at home whenever the medical technicians came by.
Dear rustymaker5... look, I get why you're furious with your husband. You have every right to be. But listen to me: alcoholism is a legitimate disease. Just because your husband destroyed his own life doesn't mean he didn't love you and your daughter. Alcoholics can't just snap their fingers and decide one morning that they're done with it. It doesn't work like that. Just like you need a doctor when your body is fighting against cancer, you need a doctor when your mind is battling alcoholism. Try to look at it this way: he simply couldn't help himself. Honestly, I think that's the cold, hard truth about addiction. I highly doubt anyone is actually proud to be an alcoholic, and I'm certain everyone wants to change. The real question is who will actually find the path and the strength to pull it off.
Like Angela Wright said, try to use these difficult times to actually bond... and frankly, you'll feel a lot better if you let go of that anger. Holding onto it? You're only hurting yourself.
ruggedscout91 said:Just wipe it with a tissue or maybe use some chamomile wash once in a while. Throw on a subtle, high-quality cologne on your clothes and call it a day.
Oh sure, because I’m just dying to know how many times a day I’d have to be wiping myself down with that stuff!!! 😂
You hit the nail on the head, Angela Wright... I was actually sitting here yesterday thinking the exact same thing—we’re going to end up driving people absolutely insane. 😢
Regarding the hospital bed, you might be able to score one through a local hospice association but here is the catch: they only have about fifteen beds in their entire inventory, and every single one was already out on loan when I gave them a call.😢 Typically, a specialized bed like that would run you upwards of $1000.
I am not entirely certain which other medical supplies you are hunting for, but honestly, those people at the association are incredibly kind. You should reach out to them directly and see if they can lend a hand. We actually managed to secure oxygen and a suction machine through them, both of which were absolutely vital for us... It is such a shame we didn't know these resources existed sooner, because it would have made everything so much easier. I am actually heading over there tomorrow to return all the equipment we borrowed...
Sandra Martin36 said:I keep wondering how much longer it will take before I can think of him without seeing the man he was before the illness. All I see is the nightmare we lived through—every new symptom that popped up, watching him suffer in pain, those endless sleepless nights where I just lay there wondering what was going through his mind, feeling his isolation. I can still see that look in his eyes—that overwhelming terror mixed with this desperate hope that I’d tell him things would get better. But we knew they wouldn't. I felt completely helpless. Now that he's gone, I just can't wrap my head around why a good man had to endure all of that. And that image of him at the end, struggling for every single breath, looking like someone I didn't even recognize though he was still my father... it won't leave me. It's terrifying to be alone with these thoughts.
Oh my God... it's like you wrote those exact words for me. 🤦
And the worst part? I can't even find comfort in knowing I'm not the only one who went through this. It just breaks my heart thinking that anyone else might ever have to feel what I've been feeling these last few months. 😢
I am so sorry... I honestly don't know what to say to you, or even to myself. The only thing I can tell you is that I truly understand, and I'll 😘
You can take your concerns straight to your primary care physician, and they have the authority to file the paperwork for home health services provided by private agencies—think companies like CVS Health or UnitedHealth Group (it really just depends on which part of the city you're in). This kind of assistance isn't automatic; it's initiated by your doctor and then has to be officially approved by a medical board. My dad actually had folks from one of those agencies come out to his place to administer IV fluids when he couldn't eat, and they even handled changing his nasogastric tube. To be fair, they cleared him for full-time nursing because he was in the terminal stages of his illness, though they were always grumbling about how much time they wasted waiting around for the IV drips to finish. Aside from the complaining, they were fine enough...
Hopefully, this gives you at least a little bit of clarity.
And when it comes to family... good grief, it’s an absolute nightmare that happens to everyone. Honestly, I used to think my entire family was just plain insane. But it turns out this is some strange, deep-seated human flaw. Sometimes I actually worry about accidentally offending someone, but let's be real: people acting like they're visiting you during times like this? They walk in with this ridiculous sense of superiority. It's pure delusion. Everyone seems to live under the pathetic illusion that something like this could never happen to them.
Thank goodness we didn't let many people into our circle back in the day. And for those who actually did make the cut? We strictly forbade any crying or whining. If you wanted to speak, you were only allowed to tell pleasant stories. Period. It used to drive me absolutely insane whenever certain relatives would show up. You know the type—people my folks couldn't stand to be in the same room with, yet they’d just roll up unannounced like they were doing us some grand favor by dropping in to say hello. It was infuriating. Honestly, I think you hit the nail on the head when you said people love to gloat. They get such a kick out of it, completely failing to realize that this kind of drama can happen to anyone. It’s a universal truth.
Susan Hayes25 said:And you know what one of my neighbors told me? And mind you, she’s a simple woman, but one of my favorites: "I just can't believe what a brilliant woman like you would even think."
This is absolutely appalling!!!! Seriously, that woman is just disgusting. I honestly cannot believe someone could actually say something like that. If I heard her talking like that, I’d toss her right out the front door headfirst!!! 😠😠😠
Kimberly Wright said:I read that brisksurfer's father passed away and I'm sitting here crying like a total fool.
This might sound cold-hearted, but I’m sitting here crying because my dad is sick. When I think about the agony waiting at the end, I know deep down that I have to let him go.
That was easily the hardest part of everything. When my dad was still here, I couldn't even bring myself to cry because I didn't want him to see me like that. Then, once he was gone, suddenly everyone else starts lecturing me about how I shouldn't be crying either. It’s unbelievable. Just constant pressure from every direction. I only let the tears fall on that very last day when I saw my dad—he couldn't move, just lying there. I honestly think he heard me. He had tears streaming down his face too, but I just couldn't hold it back. I kept telling him not to be sad, that everything would turn out exactly the way it’s meant to be. If I hadn't cried, I truly believe my heart would have just split right in two. 😢
Kimberly Wright said:brisksurfer, I am so sorry for your loss. 🙂 It looks to me like you’ve done everything humanly possible. You've stepped up and made things so much easier on your dad more times than I can count.
Thanks! I hope so... because honestly, no matter what I accomplish, I always end up feeling like I should have done more. 😢 I was just walking down the street today, lost in my own head, thinking about how many things we still could have experienced. So much left on the table.🙏
Kimberly Wright said:@Susan Hayes25/">@@Susan Hayes25 Today is just one of those days. One of those days where I feel like the world has conspired to screw me over. Everything feels fundamentally unfair. Honestly, I absolutely loathe this entire situation, and I’m at the point where I just want to crawl out of my own skin. A friend of mine just posted that he’s getting married soon. Everyone is celebrating, throwing parties, and acting like life is perfect. Outside, the sun is blazing, everything is lush and green, and the whole world smells like spring. Meanwhile, I feel absolutely sick to my stomach. After work, I have to go pick up my mother; she just finished her round of chemo and radiation. I look around and see all these people who have been through the same grueling treatments, and honestly? It makes me feel physically ill. 😢 Those people in that hospital basement look like walking corpses.
Oh, I know that feeling all too well... It hits me like a ton of bricks, especially on Sunday nights.😲 Thank goodness those days were few and far between. I’ve always been the type who cries at the drop of a hat, but I bounce back just as fast—I can always find something else to cheer me up immediately. Honestly, the hardest part was that I couldn't share any of this with my dad. I constantly had to put on a brave face and act like some untouchable hero instead of just being real. It would drive me absolutely insane if my coworkers treated every tiny, insignificant detail like it was some massive national tragedy. But honestly? What can you even do about it? You can't even hold it against them. They’re just living their regular, mundane lives. That's all there is to it.
I learned long ago that dealing with cancer is a total rollercoaster. It’s a constant series of highs and lows. Honestly, I felt a lot more composed knowing that once the storm passes, the sun is going to come right back out. 😉
The more I sit here and chew on this, the more I realize we could never have consciously chosen to leave Dad in that hospital bed until the very end. Even though, looking back now, it clearly would have been better for him if we had. It’s obvious someone up there—God, maybe even—intervened to stop us from taking him home ourselves... :S
Lisa White54 said:Please accept my deepest condolences. Your father is surely in a much better place now, far away from all this pain and suffering.
My husband is battling non-small cell carcinoma of the right bronchus and trachea.
God, everything is just so incredibly hard.. My brother-in-law, my sister's husband, is 55 years old... Last August, they diagnosed him with pancreatic cancer. He is doing terribly. He’s in the hospital, and the doctor told us he likely won't make it more than two or three days. I have the choice to bring him home to pass away, or leave him there in the hospital... I feel absolutely terrible. I simply cannot wrap my head around the fact that this is actually happening.. the sheer agony, the fact that he's dying, that there's no cure... that he's just going to be gone! I am completely falling apart with grief...
Thank you.
I am so sorry about your brother-in-law; I honestly don't know what wise thing to say to you... My heart was breaking when we were told the exact same thing about my dad. In the end, we decided to take him home, but by the time we got to the hospital to tell him he'd be heading home the next day, his condition had already plummeted, and he passed away that night. 😢😢😢 I kept telling him over and over to just hold on a little longer so we could get him home, and they wouldn't even let us take him until his condition improved...
To be honest, looking back, we actually felt like it was fate that he didn't make it home. If we had taken him and things had suddenly taken such a turn for the worse, we would have spent our whole lives wondering if we made a mistake. 😢 If they had let me stay by him until the very end at the hospital, I never could have walked away, but truthfully, it was so traumatic that my heart probably would have broken right then and there. 😛 Even my mom, who swore she wouldn't let him die in the hospital, realizes now that it was probably better he stayed there because he truly needed medical care that we just couldn't provide... So, yeah, maybe you should warn your sister about all of this...
Lisa White54 said:My husband was diagnosed with lung cancer about five months ago. The prognosis was grim. Absolutely terrible. No one expected him to last more than a few months. It was brutal. He was struggling to breathe through all the congestion, but the bleeding made it even worse. Honestly, I hate even thinking back on those moments. He went through chemo and radiation. At home, we did everything possible to boost his immune system and fight off the coughing and the shortness of breath. And look at him now—he’s still here. He’s doing well. Sure, there are good days and bad days, but you learn how to manage. You adapt. Don't just sit there praying; get in the fight. You can't predict the outcome, but you absolutely cannot surrender! Hang in there. Stay strong and be there for your father. 🙂
Thank you so much for the support... I'm keeping my fingers crossed for your husband!
What specific type of carcinoma is your husband fighting?
I really didn't want to post anything like this on this thread, but I find myself having to write it out... my dear father passed away yesterday. 🙂
He fought for his life until his very last breath. Those final hours were absolutely horrific... much worse than anything I could have ever imagined. We stayed by his side for twelve straight hours because I wanted to be there until the very end, just holding his hand. But then, around 1:00 AM, they told us we couldn't stay at the hospital anymore. 😢 Just three hours after they made us leave, he was gone. Honestly, I think he might not have even been able to let go while we were still sitting right there beside him... it’s like he wouldn't leave us. 😢😢 😢
The grief is massive. It's overwhelming. But I feel a sense of peace because I truly believe he's in a better place now and is watching over us. 😍 Maybe, after everything that happened, it hasn't even fully sunk in yet that he's actually gone. 😢
I want to say thank you to everyone on this thread who helped me with such precious advice. :*
The doctors over at Mayo Clinic told us today that Dad can’t stay in the hospital anymore. Now we’re stuck making this huge decision: do we bring him home, or do we find a long-term care facility that can actually take him in permanently?😢
None of us have the heart to just let him go, so it’s looking like he’ll be coming home... Mom heard somewhere that you can actually rent one of those medical beds with the adjustable headrest. I wanted to see if anyone here knows where we could possibly score one of those, and if that's even a realistic option?
On a brighter note, Dad was actually doing much better this afternoon, so I’m feeling pretty happy about that. 🙂
Casey Palmer5 said:If we're talking about accumulated mucus, there's quite a bit I can achieve with certain physiotherapy techniques—things like postural drainage, specific coughing techniques, and positioning. If those don't cut it, then we move to endotracheal aspiration (mostly when the patient isn't conscious). That means suctioning, which a doctor doesn't necessarily have to specifically order; depending on the facility—at least where I was trained, it isn't required, you just do it based on clinical indication—a technician, nurse, or physical therapist can get it done in a minute. Doing that at home is incredibly difficult.
I am so sorry you’re going through this.
Thank you so much for the response!
It seems like the issue is mucus that builds up constantly because Dad just can't clear it himself. Since he had another terrible coughing fit on Friday followed by vomiting (honestly, my stomach turns just thinking about him coughing like that), we had to take him back to Mayo Clinic. I asked the nurses there if the same thing happens in the hospital and they said no... but yesterday I was visiting Dad right when he started coughing like that again. A nurse came in with a suction machine and cleared all that phlegm out, and everything was sorted in three minutes. We tried to do the same thing at home, but they push that tube way deeper into the throat than I would ever dare to, so they managed to get everything out instantly... at home, it took six agonizing hours and he suffered terribly. The nurse told me that the mucus stays stuck in his throat, and he's choking because he can't get it out.😢 To be honest, that nurse yesterday went a bit too far; she pushed the tube in so deep that his eyes were bloodshot by the end and he didn't even want to open his mouth anymore... the head nurse told me that isn't allowed—meaning they are only supposed to insert the tube as far as the patient permits.
It is just devastatingly sad to watch your own father suffer like this, even though he is so brave and never once complains about being in pain. 😢😢😢
Thanks for getting back to me. I’m really trying to figure out if there is actually anything out there—any specific protocol or treatment—that can be used to try and stop a tumor from spreading any further.