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Posts by cosmicviper76

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"My dad is basically just fading away at this point; he looks weaker every single day, barely eating anything, and can even struggle to sip water through a straw!"

I am so incredibly sorry you're going through this. It’s heartbreaking, but please, don't let hope slip away just yet.
If things do take this turn, just being there by his side is everything. Honestly, that's the most important thing you can do right now.
Hang in there, dear.
frozencobra25 said:My dad lost the hardest fight of his life this morning at 6:10 AM.

Just another wonderful man who was loved by everyone, taken by a glioblastoma that unfairly crashed into our lives on May 9, 2007, changing everything forever.

My father was a hero who fought until his very last breath, and until that final moment, he was surrounded by me and my mother. He finally fell asleep, exhausted and worn out, leaving his struggling body behind. To put it simply—he’s finally free.

Everything still feels a bit surreal. No matter how much I knew how this would end, or how much I mentally prepared myself for this exact moment, it still arrived far too soon.

I am just so incredibly grateful that Mom and I were able to share these past few years living through the most beautiful moments with him. He knew that, too; he was never alone. He was always surrounded by the people he needed most and loved him most.

A massive thank you goes out to Angela Wright, a guide who truly knows how to choose her words, speaking with the empathy of someone who has walked this same difficult path.

Thank you.

My deepest, most sincere condolences.
Like you said, he is finally at peace.
He's up in heaven with the angels now, watching over you all...
Stay strong.
love ya
Nancy Thomas18 said:Hey everyone. I haven't checked in here for a while because my CT scan results were pretty devastating. They're saying there aren't any metastases, but there's fluid in my abdomen and caught between the loops of my small intestine... and honestly, everyone just seems to be shrugging their shoulders at me. My surgeon is pushing for a PET scan, but my oncologist thinks it's unnecessary—or rather, they won't officially recommend it. On top of all that, my stomach is being compressed. I truly don't know what to do... I'm starting to lose heart.

Don't you dare lose heart. You’ve fought this far, so keep pushing forward. You can beat this—we all know it, and we believe in you.
Wishing you nothing but the best.
Melissa Kim45 said:My mother fought an incredibly long, hard battle. She was a winner in her own right—a true champion.

She passed away this morning.

I want to thank you all; I love you guys dearly. Please, keep fighting for us out there—stay brave and give it everything you've got.

I’ll check back in later with more details.

My deepest condolences.
Linda Peterson37 said:I just finished reading an interview in the latest issue of Doctor at Home featuring Nancy Pelosi—she actually dealt with a brain tumor herself...
It truly warms my heart to see people fighting back against these illnesses, and honestly, I wish we saw even more success stories like this.

P.S. I’m currently working on gathering signatures for a petition for the association, and the response has been incredible. People are genuinely engaged; there are so many folks out there struggling with our healthcare system or shelling out massive amounts of money for various medications, and they are thrilled to finally have a chance to push for some meaningful reform in the medical field.

I'm also out here collecting signatures and have managed to gather quite a few already. It feels good knowing we can actually step up and make a difference somehow.
Rachel Brown63 said:If you ask me, I’d start with this first option. Everyone tends to scramble toward alternative treatments only when they're already backed into a corner. By then, most doctors are just looking at surgical options, and honestly, by the time you get there, the body is often too exhausted to even fight back. I’ve seen people on other forums who actually found relief through this. For instance, a girl I know was cured of a brain tumor after the specialists at Salisbury gave her nothing more than a year to live. Even my friend met his current wife because he stepped in and saved her life during a massive case of sepsis when she was literally fading away. Look, I’m not saying anyone is being lifted up to the heavens by divine intervention out of thin air—you still have to listen, follow the protocols, and have a bit of faith. Without that, none of it works.

I agree; you really have to believe in things. Miracles happen every single day.
Rachel Brown63 said:I’ve heard that Dr. Sasha Tešić treats cancer patients. He operates based on the principles of New Medicine (if you want to dig deeper, just Google "Dr. Hamer" or "New Medicine"); his primary focus is tackling the cancer itself before moving on to anything else. He completed his studies in Japan and I believe in China as well. Quite a few people I know have consulted him, so he seems like a decent guy—he won't fleece you if the treatment isn't working. He mostly works from CT scans, provided they are on a CD or film, and he can read everything from them without error. He practices in a Suburban neighborhood. It is absolutely vital that conventional medicine hasn't messed with the patient yet, because sometimes they end up doing more harm than good. Plus, the patient really needs to believe the treatment will work; if you lack that faith, you won't get anywhere. You can find similar ideas here: http://www.grombol.com/pregled1.asp?...edicina&id=648
it covers things like metastases and chemotherapy too. For anyone suffering or for their loved ones, I’d highly recommend the book "You Can Heal Your Life" by Louise Hay. She dealt with cancer herself and recovered, and she explains exactly how that happened in her writing. Whether it's with Dr. Hamer or Louise Hay, the whole concept centers on the psyche and the brain, which then manifests in the organs. That’s why mainstream medicine struggles so much with cancer—they are busy treating the symptoms rather than the root cause, and the root cause lies within you. I hope this helps someone out.

Well, thanks for the info. Someone will probably find this helpful, and honestly, you should try everything possible—at least you can say you gave it every shot.
Basically, if anyone has any information at all, please post it. Every little bit of insight is more than welcome.
Amanda Hernandez6 said:Hi there! First off, major respect to everyone here fighting against these devastating diseases.

I’m not quite sure how I can be of help, but I wanted to ask you all something. To give you a bit of context, my mom has been sick for six years now. She has breast cancer that has metastasized to her bones. Initially, she had surgery followed by Taxol treatment, then radiation once her hair started falling out. About four years ago, she went through chemotherapy again—I wasn't really following the specifics at the time—but she lost her hair during that round too. Exactly one year ago today, they discovered metastases. She was on Herceptin combined with Tykerb, which actually seemed to work at first; her markers dropped significantly. But then, after a while, they started climbing again.
Lately, she’s been seeing a filipinac in a Suburban neighborhood. She claims she feels better every time she finishes a session, but when we checked her markers recently, they had tripled. Now she’s heading back onto Taxol, so we’ll just have to wait and see.

I wanted to ask if anyone here has any experience with filipincs? We found out about this because my dad met someone who had lung cancer and didn't even attempt traditional chemotherapy; apparently, after a long course of treatments with a filipinac, he was cured and is back to working normally today. If you know anyone who has gone through this, please share your stories. And please, I beg you, don't just jump in and tell me it's a scam or something similar.

To be honest, this is the first I've heard of it, but you've definitely piqued my interest.
How much does it cost?
How do you go about getting treatment?
Where exactly is it located?
I would actually consider taking my dad there.
rapidseal49 said:Thanks for all the kind words, everyone, but honestly? I think it might already be too late.

I’ve tried everything in my power, but the real issue is his own denial. He isn't taking this seriously; he doesn't truly grasp the gravity of what he's fighting, and frankly, he's too terrified to even admit it to himself.
Then there's the family dynamic, which isn't helping either. His parents are shielding him from the reality of the situation and aren't even managing his nutrition properly... it's just a mess, all of it.
In a way, the illness itself is almost the "minor" issue here. If people actually understood the stakes, so much more could have been done. The real tragedy is how little people seem to take this seriously—whether that stems from pure fear, sheer panic, or just plain old ignorance, I haven't the slightest clue.

At the end of the day, he's been pulled from the treatment plan, and that's that. Now comes the hardest part: watching him suffer through this.

Unfortunately, you hit the nail on the head. The worst part is when people refuse to face reality. They try to play games with cancer, acting as if they can outsmart it, but you can't defeat an enemy you refuse to acknowledge exists. You have to accept it before you can fight it.
Regardless, I’m holding onto hope that things improve, because at the very least, hope is the last thing to flicker out.
Wishing you nothing but the best.
rapidseal49 said:Well, I wrote this quite a while ago, so I'm basically just quoting my own past self here...

The agony just keeps dragging on...

After months of enduring chemotherapy and dealing with its absolutely brutal side effects—we're talking constant vomiting, pounding headaches, and most frequently, diarrhea that hit up to ten times a day—
things have only spiraled downward.
He’s dropped nearly 110 pounds, he's incredibly weak, and he’s even relying on crutches to get around now.

I have to be brutally honest and admit that, at no point, did he actually follow the dietary guidelines his doctor laid out.
It was poor nutrition that led to him developing that Chronov disease back in his teens, and it was poor nutrition that contributed to the cancer (since he was strictly forbidden from drinking alcohol, eating meat, and so on), yet he didn't follow those rules even one percent of the time. Because of that poor diet... he isn't going to recover.

I realize that illness is an evil force that strips everything away, but if you ask me—and it’s easy to play the expert after the fact—I think there was a lot more that could have been done.
I kept bringing him books about nutrition; I tried talking to him about macrobiotics and all that sort of thing (since I tend to eat very healthily myself and stay active... so I know a thing or two about it), but none of it made a dent.

He just went through the motions of the chemo sessions and called it a day...

And today... his doctor pulled the plug on the treatment entirely.
I think everyone here understands exactly what that implies............................😢

Sometimes a person just gives up the fight and doesn't know how to move forward.
Maybe you all could try to encourage him in some way? Talking to him might actually achieve something; maybe you can stir some will left in him. At the very least, you have nothing to lose by looking at the big picture—you might just be able to offer him some support.
Wishing you all the best.
Chloe Alvarez said:I’ve reached the point where my Google searches aren't cutting it anymore, so I figured I’d just ask you all... maybe someone here has dealt with this?

I don't really know anyone else facing hearing issues this early in life, so I'm feeling a bit lost. I wanted to see if there's actually an operation out there that can restore hearing to a normal level. From what I understand—though doctors seem to change their story every time I visit—it’s nerve damage, specifically about 53% loss. Is that permanent, or is there some kind of procedure available, even outside the States, regardless of the cost? It would be such a relief to know there's a solution out there rather than just watching things get worse year after year.

p.s. Does anyone here belong to, or know anyone involved with, the National Association of the Deaf?

In my experience, whether or not you can regain hearing depends entirely on which part of the auditory system is damaged.
As for the deaf community organizations, I have a few acquaintances, but they're all based in Washington, D.C.
dustyranger11 said:My father passed away today. For him, at least, the struggle is finally over.
I want to thank everyone here who helped me out through this forum.
I still have a bit of insurance and some remaining paperwork to sort through, so if anyone needs anything, just reach out.
Now I’m just facing this massive void and those heavy, hollow days ahead without him.

Please accept my deepest, most sincere condolences.
Nancy Thomas18 said:Thanks everyone for the kind words... but honestly, what can you do? That "yellow minute" always finds its way to you eventually. I’m heading in for an abdominal CT scan in two weeks... keep your fingers crossed for my poor little liver. 🙂

I'll be keeping my fingers crossed too, 👍 and I know everything is going to turn out okay.
We're all thinking of you.
:( title in Psychology ·
Andrew Ramos10 said:Ugh, I honestly don't know... I'm in such a foul mood right now that I just want to binge on chocolate until I feel sick and aggressively squeeze every single pimple on my face
and then just pass out
I am seriously so incredibly frustrated with myself right now...

I totally get that. Whenever my mood hits absolute zero, I tend to polish off an entire bar of chocolate too—it’s like some sort of weird survival mechanism, feeding that emotional void, I guess.
So honestly? Just go for it. Eat whatever makes you feel even a little bit better. If it helps calm the storm, don't you dare deprive yourself of that comfort.
The bottom line is just feeling a bit more human at the end of the day.
Sending love
Karen Torres17 said:The test results are back, and unfortunately, the CT scan regarding the liver basically says this:
-pathological foci, essentially "seedlings," are visible in both the left and right lobes, and there's mention of
some kind of thickening, though it notes the bile ducts aren't dilated.

Nobody actually explained anything to us, other than the fact that the situation is BAD.

The other organs in the abdomen and the lungs look okay. The heart is healthy.

So, what I can say now is that both lobes of the liver are affected.

We’re still waiting on the biopsy results from the intestine and the liver, but even without
those, the diagnosis is pretty much clear.

He was discharged to go home while they wait for the medical board to meet and get back to us... it’s all just
pretty overwhelming.

However, since cases like this aren't really treated at the local hospital near the Cross
because oncology is handled over at Firul, we jumped straight to action—even before that board meeting.
We somehow managed to track down a surgeon from Firul (trying to get the cell number for a surgeon
who seemed to be on vacation felt like an impossible mission, but a mix of sheer persistence,
desperation, being well-informed, and a little bit of luck finally paid off). We ran the
results by him and scheduled surgery for ten days from now.

Naturally, before that happens, we’re going to visit the head oncologist in the city over at Firul
to have him review the findings, suggest a treatment plan, and give us his take on whether the surgery
is absolutely necessary...

In the middle of all this chaos and shock, dealing with vague information and grim prognoses,
something inside us flipped. It turned into a fierce drive to fight, to hunt down info
from every possible source, and to find the most competent doctors available.

I don't truly know what lies ahead for us, but it suddenly became
crystal clear that we can't afford to sit around waiting for anyone. We have to dive in headfirst
and fight tooth and nail for everything modern medicine
can possibly offer right now.

That's all for now. I'll check back in later. Sorry for the long rant; I just needed to
get all of this out of my system.

Hang in there, everyone! Stay strong!!!

I totally understand how you feel and what you're going through.
It was the exact same thing for me, and the results were identical. The doctors weren't giving any good news either.
My dad just got home from the hospital yesterday; he finished his first round of chemo and is holding up well.
Once those liver biopsy results come in, they'll tell you if they're operating on just the colon or the liver too.
Just make sure you stay by his side—that's what matters most. It isn't all doom and gloom.
It was incredibly hard for me at first, but seeing him fight like this makes me so proud.
You two need to fight this together.
And keep the faith.
Carol Long28 said:Hello and good evening, everyone...

I’ve been quietly following the posts on this thread for about a month now, having started just a day after my father’s last hospital stay.

To make a long story short, I want to share our family's journey, which has been an uphill battle for the last ten months...

After nearly two months of tests, doctors discovered a very well-hidden pancreatic cancer that had already metastasized to his liver and small intestine, so he went straight into surgery. Chemotherapy didn't yield much, even though he felt surprisingly okay at the time. His CT scan results after chemo were grim; the doctors told us that in 99% of cases involving this kind of illness, chemotherapy simply isn't successful. But we weren't ready to give up. We decided to try the Bressov method, and honestly, it seemed to work wonders initially! The lesions on the liver stopped spreading, his lymph nodes shrank, and there were no signs of that monster anywhere else. For four months, they were the happiest months of my life... Of course, things couldn't stay perfect. A stubborn bacteria he'd been carrying since the surgery—which had stayed dormant during the Bressov treatment—suddenly flared up and blocked his bile ducts. That led to brutal fevers and chills, leaving us with no choice but to head back to Rib to treat the infection that was causing sepsis, where they had to install a drainage system in St. Louis... Sadly, just when everything seemed to be going right, that bastard returned and began tearing through everything in its path with terrifying speed. We never saw this coming. We believed in Bressov; we studied the methods, followed the plan to a T, and everything was looking up until just a week ago... Did we make a mistake somewhere? Only God knows, and frankly, I’ve struggled to find my faith in Him lately. My father is at Rib now, struggling with fluid buildup in his abdomen; he’s feeling worse by the day, and I can only pray he comes home soon...

What hurts the most is that we’ve successfully conquered so many massive life challenges together. We built our private lives and our businesses, constantly pushing forward with everything we had. Now, just when he and my mother should finally be enjoying their retirement, we have to face defeat against this tiny little thing that has completely destroyed us.

I have so much respect for the people on this forum. Reading your stories has given me the strength and the will to keep going, because for a while, I truly thought I was alone in this. I’m only 24, and I have to step up to run our family business and take care of my mother. It won't be easy, but reading these stories of courage from such brave people makes everything feel a bit more manageable.

Thank you... Let’s keep supporting one another.

I completely understand how you feel, and I know how incredibly hard this is for you.
My dad started his first round of chemo today. I keep reading accounts about how the liver can be resistant to chemo, but I’m holding onto hope and believing it will work, because it's really all we have left.
So please, keep hoping and keep believing; try to find some comfort and hope in that.
Stay by your father's side as much as you possibly can. Your support is what matters most—giving him that faith and the strength to believe in a better tomorrow.
Tomorrow is a new day, and hopefully, it brings something new. Let's stay positive.
Hang in there!
Karen Torres17 said:My initial gut feeling also points toward the Rib, but we absolutely need to
get a look at the detailed test results from the hospital in Split.

I’ll definitely check back in later;
this morning's news was a total bombshell.

I can only imagine how much of a shock it was.
It hit us just as hard, especially since Dad wasn't even feeling anything—he was just going in for a routine checkup when they suddenly noticed it.
Just hang in there and stay right by his side; in moments like this, that's truly everything.
Taylor Kelly9 said:Hi there,
I’m new to this forum, and honestly, I'm just here desperately hunting for some direction. Here’s the mess we’re dealing with: about two months ago, my mom was found to have a tumorous mass on her lungs. Her primary care doctor sent her over to Jordan to get checked out. There, they diagnosed it as lymphoma and sent samples off for consultation. Three different institutions reviewed those samples, and all three came back with the same verdict: it’s non-Hodgkin lymphoma. So, the next logical step was hematology. They ran every test imaginable, only to turn around and tell us she *doesn't* have lymphoma because their pathologist "can't confirm it," essentially claiming she's perfectly healthy. Now, we're sitting here wondering who's actually losing their mind—the doctors or us. She has an 8.5 x 5.5 cm tumor on her lung, she’s running fevers, she’s exhausted, and she has zero energy. To make matters worse, the pulmonologists say she isn't a respiratory patient, while the hematologists claim she isn't a hematology patient. Well, if it's neither, then whose problem is it? And just to be clear, the cytology results explicitly showed malignant cells.
We are completely lost on what to do next. Should we just keep bouncing from one hospital to another, or should we look into private specialists? Does anyone have any advice? Please, help!

You’ve got to go from doctor to doctor, door to door. If you have to hit up private clinics to get actual answers, do it. But the most important thing is that you absolutely have to understand exactly what you're dealing with. Whatever you do, do not give up.
At the end of the day, someone has to figure out what is actually happening to her.
Karen Torres17 said:cosmicviper76, thanks for getting back to me,
but they haven't actually given us the specifics yet—meaning,
the test results we need to make sense of this
aren't even in yet (there’s a CT scan scheduled for tomorrow).

I'll post a more detailed update once I have
a bit more information to work with.

Also, if anyone could send me a private message with
recommendations for hospitals and specialists
in New York City who specialize in
this specific type of carcinoma, I'd really appreciate it.

I honestly don't know who I'd suggest to you. My dad had surgery over at Mercury, and frankly, we weren't exactly thrilled with the doctor handling everything, so I don't feel comfortable giving out a specific recommendation. That said, word on the street is that Rib is a better option than Mercury, so it might be worth looking into them instead.
Once you get those detailed results back, please do share; there are plenty of us here, and we'll all do our best to support you however we can.
Until then, hang in there and take care.
Karen Torres17 said:We’re dealing with a close family member here;
colorectal cancer with liver metastases
was confirmed this morning.

The initial testing was done at the Cross facility in Split
(that former military hospital).
Tomorrow we have the CT scan, and then we'll have the full details....

Since I live in New York City, and this involves
my stepfather, I would really love for his
treatment to take place here in New York City.

So, I am asking anyone who might have some
advice regarding choosing a hospital or a specialist
here in New York City for cases like this
(feel free to send me a private message).

It would also mean a lot to hear from someone
who has dealt with this specific type of cancer within their own family.

Thanks in advance.

My father is battling colorectal cancer with liver metastases.
I assume my stepfather will need surgery.
If the metastasis has taken hold of both lobes of the liver, surgery might not be an option; in that case, you'd likely just focus on managing it through chemotherapy.
Having more detailed results would definitely help—the big question is whether it has affected both lobes.