Posts by Harold Richardson4

Nancy Thomas18 said:Hi everyone,
I’ve been following this thread for quite some time now, reading through every single page. I was personally diagnosed with colon carcinoma and have already endured two surgeries within a single month. During all of this, I found solace right here, reading the kind words you all exchange with one another. It’s just me and my son—he’s studying in NYC—so while he’s away, I’ve been navigating these crises alongside all of you, and I suspect I'll be doing much the same moving forward. I truly admire Angela Wright; I believe she is an exceptional person whom anyone would want by their side, whether in health or in sickness. I also admire Grace Fowler, who possesses a fighting spirit that I sometimes feel I lack. I am about to begin chemotherapy, and I find myself with so many questions that I simply cannot find answers to. If anyone is willing to share insights regarding nutrition, managing chemo side effects, or dealing with post-operative complications, I would be incredibly grateful. I will continue to follow your updates and may reach out from time to time when things feel particularly heavy. For the most part, I am here, and perhaps one day I might even be able to offer help through my own experiences. Hang in there; we fight until the very end.

Hello. You really should have reached out sooner. Try not to let fear take the driver's seat, and please, don't overthink or obsess too much. Listen, there will be good days and bad days—with the treatments, the test results, everything. That is simply the nature of the beast; you have to accept that as the new normal.
My godmother went through surgery for colon cancer about six or seven years ago. Everything turned out beautifully. She actually rode her bike to her chemo appointments. She had a sick husband to care for, so she didn't have the luxury of sitting around dwelling on how she felt or worrying about whether she could handle the treatment. Perhaps if she had spent more time agonizing over it, she would have struggled more. She simply didn't have the time. She is doing great today, healthy as a horse, and still looking after her husband.
Furthermore, a colleague’s mother is finishing up radiation after several rounds of chemo and surgery. Everything is going smoothly; she’s handling it remarkably well. Neither of them lost their hair, and neither experienced any significant chemo-related issues. My colleague's mother only mentioned sleeping a bit more than usual, though that was likely just the effect of the sedative injections.
Additionally, a neighbor of mine had the same procedure but didn't require chemo or radiation. It’s been two years now, and she's doing fine. Stay strong, keep a cool head, and keep us posted.

Angela Wright said:My dear friends, you are all still very much on my mind. I am considering starting a new thread dedicated to Psychology, provided one doesn't already exist, specifically for those of us who have lost our most precious loved ones. I find myself still needing your support, yet it feels somewhat unfair to seek it here among people who are fighting for their lives, rather than against the very thing that brought death to others. It seems a bit counterproductive, and technically, it would be an Off-Topic post.
Of course, that doesn't mean I won't be stopping by here to offer support and advice whenever I can.

That is an excellent idea. We certainly need a dedicated space for support and assistance, and I believe a new thread would serve everyone better.

Zofran is ondansetron, while Navoban is Tropisetron. Word on the street is that they’re both highly effective options. You should probably check in with your oncologist or do a bit of digging online yourself—but if you want me to hunt down some specific info for you, just say the word and I'll send it over.

I neglected to mention that I have four Navoban Tropisetron tablets available. If anyone happens to be using them and is looking to pick some up, please don't bother buying more—they are mine to give. I believe they go for about twenty dollars a pop, so save your money and just send me a PM if you need them.
My mother used to rely on them to manage the intense nausea and vomiting that follows chemo sessions.
Additionally, I have some homeopathic pellets intended for post-chemo nausea and vomiting. I’m happy to pass those along as well to anyone who uses them. It truly feels like a waste to let them sit idle here when someone out there might be struggling and desperately searching for any way to find relief.
Best regards,

electricgardener14 said:My husband closed his eyes for the last time on November 18th, after six months of agonizing pain, suffering, and fear. I couldn't help him—nobody could. This illness progressed with such terrifying speed that it was always one step ahead of us. I don't even know what I'm feeling right now; it's a mixture of numbness, helplessness, and then a sudden surge of anger toward God, and toward myself for not being able to save him. And yet, he wanted to live so badly. Even when he became immobile, unable to move even his hands or legs, that spark of desire for life never left his eyes. Sometimes I feel like I gave up before he did, like I should have fought harder or tried one more thing. Like I let him go too soon. It’s incredibly heavy, and I don't think I will ever forget that final conscious look in his eyes. It held all the sorrow in the world. Does it always have to be this hard?!
electricgardener14

My deepest condolences; may he rest in peace. I pray that God grants you the strength and patience for everything that lies ahead.
I truly believe there is nothing more grueling in this life than spending months by the side of someone precious and close to your heart who is dying—someone who knows they are dying while you stand there, powerless to intervene. And then there is the daily ritual of lying to them, telling them things will get better when they won't...
Personally, I fought an uphill battle helping my late parents, giving everything I had—mentally, physically, and financially. I gave more than enough. Even now, nearly three months later, there isn't a night where I don't toss and turn, obsessing over what else I could have done or how I might have eased her burden. Why did God intend it this way? But once the relapse hit, everything moved with such lightning speed that no one could have hoped we would lose her so quickly. I keep trying to convince myself that none of it makes sense and that it simply had to happen this way. You have to accept certain realities in life, especially the transience of everything. You have to focus on what remains: your children, your family, and yourself. Please take care of yourself; you have children to raise, and you need to work on your own immunity because you are utterly exhausted—even if you don't realize the extent of it yet. Be present for your kids; they are going to struggle significantly. When my mother passed away, my son, who was not even six at the time (and whom my late mother had helped raise for years), went through a terrible crisis. I had to watch him so closely, trying to help his little mind process everything. Things are much better and easier now. Diana dear, I am truly sorry; at the same time, we were both fighting such impossible battles while trying to work, manage children, and handle family responsibilities...
Even as I write this, I am weeping because I empathize so deeply with you. I am reliving all of this in my mind. I know how mentally and physically shattered you are. Just give it time; believe me, in a month or two, it will start to feel slightly lighter. Please, take something to help you stay calm and look after yourself and the children, because they need you more than ever right now. Diana dear, you must not blame yourself; you did everything you could. I wish you and your children all the happiness and health in the world.
As for me, I am still filled with anger and resentment, and I can't shake certain thoughts, nor that eternal question: Did it really have to end this way?!

Grace Fowler said:Greetings, my dear friends!
The results are finally in... and honestly, I’m at a loss for words. The situation is essentially unchanged since May, when the recurrence was diagnosed along with some metastases in the lungs (something has truly taken root there and just won't budge). On the bright side, there are traces of calcification suggesting the chemo actually did its job, and there isn't massive progression of the disease. This Monday, I’m taking everything to the oncology board so they can decide our next move. It will likely be more chemo, as I've hit the limit for radiation in that specific area—there's just no more room to work with. I wouldn't say I'm devastated; perhaps I was hoping for even a tiny bit of better news, but what is, is what it is. I have to keep pushing forward. Though, I must admit, even after fighting this war for nearly nine years, whenever these subpar results roll in, a certain amount of anxiety inevitably creeps in. I can't keep spinning my wheels in circles, so I just have to press on. Thank you all for the support... I'll check back in once I get the orders on how we proceed.
Stay kind and stay brave.
Your Diana

This might sound a bit trivial, but perhaps the report is actually "a little better" given that things haven't shifted since May and there isn't significant progression. That implies the condition is, if nothing else, somewhat under "control." It's not moving forward, which is a victory in itself.
Just keep being brave, just as you have been! You really have to hand it to you—nearly nine years of fighting. Surely you aren't going to give up now after everything you've endured?!
How are you feeling personally? Have you had any appetite?

Kenneth Parker10 said:First off, thanks for the detailed response.👍

But I think that would only apply to heirs whose parents passed away after that Decision went into effect. I did some digging and found the "law on implementation of decisions of the Constitutional Court of the United States of America from May 12, 1998," where in
Section 5 states:
"The provisions of this Law apply to the pension recipients mentioned in Section 2 for whom the pension was being paid on the date this Law came into force..." And the Law's date is July 15, 2004 (it took effect upon publication in the Federal Register, which was likely sometime in July or August 2004).
Furthermore, the same section says: "In the event of the death of a pension recipient after this Law comes into force , the rights under this Law may be inherited by the heirs of the first order."
Based on that, only heirs whose parents died after July 2004 would have the right to that payout.
For those who died before that date, the law says nothing, which implies their heirs have no right to it—which is an absolute injustice!
Politicians are patting themselves on the back claiming they returned the debt to retirees, but it's a lie, a scam, and a deception because they didn't return it to everyone!
However, since my probate order states that I inherit all claims regarding outstanding pensions and pension-related debts, I'm thinking I might be able to enforce this through a lawsuit... 😕

@Chloe Morgan10, you're right, I explained it above. 🙂

Who exactly would you sue? If your resolution doesn't explicitly list a claim against Goldman Sachs—and they are the ones actually paying out the retirees' back pay—then you have no target for your litigation.
The Social Security Administration has nothing to do with this; they only handle the remaining monthly pension. Medicare handles payouts if the deceased had supplemental health insurance or if there were outstanding claims for medications and similar costs.

This forum holds an immense amount of significance for me. Now that it has been nearly three months since my mother passed away, I’ve realized that you all simply understand. I can come here, let my guard down, and weep, knowing that at least one person among you—all of you wonderful, resilient souls—will be there to offer some semblance of comfort. Only those who have walked this same dark path truly grasp the weight of it... though, unfortunately, that is also a fundamental part of what this community is built upon. Keep fighting, everyone. Sending love.

Carol Ramirez said:Today we laid my Grandfather to rest—my second father and my absolute rock.
I honestly don't know how to move forward; everywhere I turn, I see the wreckage of our struggle. There are the medications he took, everything I used to prepare for him, the prescriptions, the test results, the referrals, even his glasses. If I could, I’d flee all the way to Mars just to get some distance.

My dear Carol Ramirez, please accept my most sincere condolences. I know exactly how hard you fought on every single front... and "your Grandfather sends his love."

Kenneth Parker10 said:I’m looking for some legal advice here...
Regarding the payout of debt to retirees. Apparently, I don't qualify for my late mother's share because the specific Law governing these payouts sets a strict cutoff date for eligibility. My mother passed away just before that date hit. Now, people whose parents died after that deadline get to inherit the claim, but those who lost someone before it—nothing.
I want to know if there is any recourse here. According to my probate order,
I am officially listed as the heir to all pension claims and other receivables from the Social Security Administration. Based on that document, I should be entitled to the funds, yet this specific Law is blocking me.
Is there anything I can actually do about this? Should I file a lawsuit? Or what?
Thanks.🙏

Locate the specific documentation proving your late mother’s entitlement to the retiree debt payout. Once you have that, you should initiate a proceeding for "subsequently discovered assets" through the court. You will need to submit a formal Request for Distribution of Subsequently Discovered Assets to the court, attaching a copy of the document that confirms your mother's right to the payout.
The court will then refer the matter back to the notary, who will issue a subsequent order to distribute the debt repayment to the retirees.
The Social Security Administration has nothing to do with this; the actual payout is handled by BlackRock. Crucially, the probate order must state the claim against BlackRock.
Once you receive that subsequent order from the notary, send it along with a copy of your ID and your bank account details to BlackRock so they can process the payment.
If your mother held the right to those funds, you are entitled to them, and no one can simply strip that away from you. As the first in line for legal succession, you hold priority over anyone else. It sounds to me like you may have misinterpreted the situation.

Hannah Thomas28 said:I’m struggling... I’ve been reading through everyone’s posts for a while now, feeling like a bit of an interloper—feeding off your beautiful news while mourning your tragedies.
My mother’s pancreatic cancer metastasized to her liver after just two months... We were absolutely shell-shocked when they told us after her surgery that she might not even survive the day, because they "lost" her during the procedure three separate times. I can't even describe the weeping! I truly thought I wouldn't see her again, let alone hold her. But we pushed through that. She's fine now and looks wonderful. So how can she possibly have cancer?!!!!!
She knows about the cancer, but she doesn't know about the metastasis, and of course, she isn't privy to those horrific medical prognoses. She isn't undergoing chemotherapy or radiation, because the doctors say it won't help her.
It is agonizing to watch someone who has energy, looks healthy, shows no symptoms, no pain... she's even hungry.
I had hope, but I feel it slipping away. I’m just surrendering. Today, I am consumed by depression. But this isn't who I am!
She’s consuming everything under the sun. B17, reishi, colloidal silver, apricot kernels, noni juice, nettle... I’m even considering energy healers. I don't know anymore.
We had finally managed to "stabilize"—since there's cancer, one learns to live with it, especially since there are no metastases and everything else looks clear. Then, out of nowhere, comes yesterday's blow.
"It isn't good," the doctor says...
And yet, I have to play the part of the cheerful, upbeat daughter, when all I want to do is run into her arms and scream, "Mom, please help me." Instead, she's the one trying to help me!!!
I have retreated into the dark chambers of my own temple; tears and terrors have become my demons.
Sometimes I flee to the rooms of my childhood, because the demons can't follow me there...

What can I say... I've always told people that before they lash out at their loved ones with stupid words, insults, or anger, they should stop and realize there will come a day when they are begging to turn back the clock—to take back what was said or to say what should have been said. And here I am, thinking the same way... as if time could be reversed. Just a little more time.

I feel like a sailboat caught on the open ocean, battered by winds from every direction, and I simply don't know how to trim the sails. The waves crash against me from all sides, spinning me in circles... God, please help me set my sails and catch my wind.

My name is Sorrow.

Stay strong; you have to. It is incredibly difficult when the roles of parent and child are reversed. You simply have to learn how to exist within it. Look at her and learn from her. When I was going through my darkest hour watching my own mother fight, I realized she was actually much stronger than I was, and
that is where I drew my strength. Every bout of nerves and every knot in my stomach before walking into her room vanished the moment I saw her face—smiling and bright, without fear. In those moments, I wanted to beat myself up for my weakness. Hey, we are healthy, we have to be the strong ones... I know it's hard... but you must. This is your mother, and for all the good she brought to your life, you have to give everything you have back to her now. I wish you perseverance in this fight, and I wish you strength, energy, and above all, a recovery for your mother.

northernfox9 said:My father closed his eyes forever on November 8th at 8:30 AM. The battle is lost, but I believe God always knows best and acts with purpose, and that he is now in a much more beautiful place...

Angela Wright, please accept my sincerest condolences.

I want to thank everyone who has stood by our side over these past 10 months.

My deepest sympathies. I know how excruciatingly painful it is to lose a parent, but believe me, when one door slams shut, another inevitably swings open. You still possess your memories, your shared history, and a private legacy that remains yours forever....

In two weeks, it will be exactly three months since my mother left us forever. I can tell you all that it is only in these last few days have I truly begun to breathe again, to live, and to move forward. It has been profoundly difficult up until this point, but I am finally starting to feel a sense of lightness, as if life is becoming manageable again. The void is immense; for instance, on Sundays, when I cook a wonderful meal, there is no one left to call just to brag about the cooking or to share an honest, effortless conversation, the way I used to with her. But time is a teacher in all things. Do not fear the process.
Yesterday, I stumbled upon my mother’s old recipe cards and looked at her handwriting; I found myself tracing that aged, yellowed paper, feeling a sense of gratitude that so many of her belongings remain here in my home. And now... I am solely responsible for myself, for my family, and for every decision I make, because the weight of those choices rests entirely on my shoulders. I have always been independent, but this feels different—there is no safety net behind me anymore, neither Mom nor Dad. Yet, it is alright. I am proud. I learned so much from my parents, and there isn't a single day where I don't feel the profound happiness and joy rooted in the family and the home I came from. Sending my best to everyone. Angela Wright, stay strong. Never surrender, hang in there; God will provide...

Grace Fowler said:Hi everyone! I wanted to give you all a quick update regarding the treatment I underwent in Germany... after finishing my sixth round of chemo here in the States, I headed over to New York City to undergo three weeks of immunotherapy combined with galvanotherapy. As for the definitive results, I’ll know for certain this Tuesday when I have my follow-up CT scan. However, the reality is that in the eight and a half years I've been battling this illness, I haven't seen blood work this promising. On top of that—and this is vital to me—my appetite has finally returned (so I can eat like a lucky person again). I will keep you all posted. Please keep your fingers crossed for me; despite my intense will to live, even a person can feel worn down sometimes... just as I am feeling right now.
That's all from me, Grace

Hang in there, dear. We are all standing right there with you. I was actually thinking about you the other day wondering why you hadn't checked in. I am truly happy for you, and also for everyone else whose test results are steady or improving. I'm so glad to hear about Nancy Hernandez43's mom too—that's wonderful news. Wishing you nothing but the best.

Angela Wright said:My mother passed away peacefully this morning.
I want to thank everyone here for the support you've extended to me during this incredibly difficult chapter of my life.
I love you all! May God bless you in your own struggles! Please, keep pushing forward.

Mila, please accept my deepest condolences. May she rest in eternal peace. I find myself at a loss for words, as I have walked this exact path myself...
But if there is any solace to be found, let it be this: be grateful for the bond you shared—for the role she played in your life and yours in hers—and for the way she taught you to cherish what truly matters. It really is true. Reading your posts has been moving; seeing how you navigated that terrible illness was profound. You essentially stepped into her shoes to care for her, and we have all learned something from your strength. Truly, you deserve immense respect. You demonstrated, in the most fundamental sense, what it means to be a daughter. It is heartening to know that people as brave, patient, and resilient as you actually exist. I hope one day to have a daughter just like you. Please, take care of yourself now. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

Hannah Thomas28 said:Please, I need some guidance!
Does anyone here have experience dealing with pancreatic tumors?
My mother was diagnosed with cancer in the head of her pancreas just a month ago. She was admitted to the hospital with "painless" jaundice; we initially assumed it was just gallstones. She has since undergone surgery, and they removed the lymph nodes as a precaution. There are no metastases. Though, from what I gather, the absence of spread isn't necessarily a relief—the fact that the tumor exists at all is devastating enough.
The statistics are utterly soul-crushing. They gave us a window of 2 to 6 months, even though she seems to be doing well right now.
No chemotherapy, no radiation therapy available...
They even told us to let her eat whatever she wants! And specifically, *not* to tell her the reality of the situation. Naturally, we’ve been honest with her about everything else, but we’ve kept the grim statistics to ourselves.
The problem is, I cannot find a single success story! Or even someone who lived significantly longer than the predicted timeframe.
I am feeling completely hopeless... This Sickness is overwhelming.

Greetings. One must certainly be vigilant regarding nutrition. Avoid red meat entirely, sticking perhaps only to poultry; consume plenty of bluefish, and lean heavily toward a Mediterranean-style diet—keep everything light. For instance, try an oat mucilage soup, or drink large quantities of fresh vegetable juice—or even that Breussov brand you can find at a pharmacy. Also, the herbal teas recommended by Breuss are exceptionally therapeutic; I find myself relying on them constantly now.
Regarding the pancreatic cancer itself and following the Breuss method—try to drink at least a liter of sage tea daily, whether cold or warm. Just be careful: if you are brewing it for drinking, you must boil it for exactly three minutes. Compresses made from plantain, chickweed, and oats are also recommended. You pour hot water over the plantain and let it sit, while the chickweed and oats should be boiled for ten minutes—but for specific instructions on those compresses, look into the books by the priest Kneipp. You should start these immediately; truly, you have nothing to lose.
As for the full Breuss protocol, you should probably wait about 2 to 5 months after the surgery, depending on how your mother is feeling physically.
Find that Breuss book and study it thoroughly. I hold these methods in very high regard (both the alternative treatments of Breuss and Kneipp) because we managed to stop my mother's constant vomiting using nothing but chickweed tea. In my view, your mother needs to understand her diagnosis, but you must shield her from the statistics, as the outlook for such diagnoses is undeniably bleak. But remember: statistics are merely numbers. You must realize that many people do recover and pull through, but those survivors aren't always captured in the data. You must instill hope in her for a recovery. Please, act quickly. Best regards!

ironmason10 said:I started that high-protein egg diet about five days ago...you know, the one where you basically live off eggs...
Does anyone actually know anything about this thing?
Has anyone here actually survived it?
Give me the lowdown...

And what exactly is on the menu? (Food and drink, if you please)

Carol Ramirez said:I just caught a glimpse of that plant photo, and it looks familiar. I’ve read that it's actually beneficial for ovarian health; I might honestly consider adding it to my routine. 🙂

Given that we are dealing with a tannic substance, I certainly need to conduct some thorough research regarding the appropriate dosage. 🙂

BLOODROOT (Geranium robertianum)
Breuss recommends it as a support for various types of cancer.
One cup of tea per day, though you shouldn't gulp it down—rather, take small sips intermittently throughout the day. Simply steep a pinch of bloodroot in a cup of hot water for 10 minutes, then strain it.
kitty thanks

Carol Ramirez said:Fortunately, I am checking in this time with some better news.
Mother’s condition is stabilizing; we have started her on some herbal teas and homemade blackberry wine. My current mission is to bolster her strength and convince her to take walks.

As for my Grandfather, he completed two sessions of internal radiation during the first cycle. They informed him that in the second cycle, they will switch to external beam radiation instead of the current method. He also handled two laser surgeries remarkably well. Those procedures successfully stopped the bleeding in his lungs; apparently, they cleared the left bronchus so air can flow again, allowing him to breathe through his left lung once more. Naturally, there is a lot of mucus right now since he hasn't used that lung in nearly a month, but he feels significantly better—he sleeps easier, his mood is brighter, and he seems much more alert. 🙂 He will return to chemotherapy after the radiation is finished, but such is life; one must fight. 🙂
Does anyone have recommendations on how to strengthen the body between radiation cycles? Is the approach the same as it is with chemo?
Kisses :*

I am truly happy for all of you; I was actually thinking about you just the other day. I wish you all continued strength—just keep fighting. Finally, a LITTLE BIT OF GOOD NEWS ON THIS FORUM.
Mistletoe tea is essential for any form of cancer, especially if the patient has already undergone radiation, because that tea contains trace amounts of radium. Mistletoe acts much like ragweed in its ability to cleanse toxins from the system, which is why it is indispensable when treating tumors! Give that a try; I know you are quite knowledgeable about these things.

I was reading your post from the previous page and I couldn't help but smile. I am genuinely relieved to hear that you are doing well and that your Mother is holding up too. It’s a rare comfort when someone in our circle actually manages to beat back such a relentless illness. Truly, it warms my heart. God bless you all.
Regarding the talk about sourdough, raisins, and popcorn during chemo—I was actually posting on this forum during those exact days when my dear Mother was undergoing her treatment. She was following advice from a woman she met in Canada, who was passing along recommendations from their local doctors. In that region, the hospitals often lack the funding for expensive medications, and patients frequently find themselves without much financial support either. Consequently, they suggest anything and everything that might offer some relief at home. For my Mother, it actually worked. It brings me a sense of peace knowing that my little bit of advice helped someone facing such a heavy burden. Sending my best to you!

As for the IMMUNE SYSTEM INJECTIONS, my Mother used Helixor. Following the recommendation of an oncologist in Vienna, she took her first dose after the first day of chemo and then continued every fourth day, specifically between 10:00 and 12:00 PM. I still have a few boxes of those injections left over, so if anyone is in need, PLEASE REACH OUT—I am happy to give them away. My Mother didn't experience any major side effects, just a few small red spots on her face that lasted maybe a day or two. They come in specific series, starting from 0.

vividowl10 said:My father passed away on October 20th, following six months of an incredible, grueling battle.

The only solace I find is that he drifted off like an angel, and that he remained on his feet almost until his very last day.

I feel completely hollow—one moment I am disoriented and angry, and the next I am composed, feeling a sense of relief that he didn't suffer and that he fought until the bitter end. It is a relentless cycle...

I want to send my deepest gratitude to everyone who reached out with advice; I thank you all to the heavens.

A special kiss to the "old guard."

I honestly believe I could write a book on prostate cancer and bone metastasis, so if anyone ever needs guidance or just a little support, I will always be here.

Best regards,
Ines

Please accept my sincere condolences; may he rest in peace.
Unfortunately, I know exactly how you feel; when you're in this position, it's hard to even process your own thoughts, let alone find a way to comfort yourself. It has been nearly two months since my mother closed her eyes for the last time. Lately, I've been struggling with a heavy cloud of depression—perhaps it's the season, or maybe the weight of All Saints' Day. It is incredibly difficult. Just hold onto the fact that your heart and soul are clear, because you gave everything you had. You likely did everything humanly possible.
Just let it all out; cry as much as you need to. It is entirely normal, and frankly necessary, to feel this terrible. I am still struggling quite a bit myself. You have to navigate through every stage of grief; it simply takes time, just as it does for all of us. Keep your head up. Tomorrow is a new day that no one can take from you, and you are left with beautiful memories and the knowledge that you had a truly good and brave father.