Posts by Benjamin Grant6

Amanda Wells75 said:I am so deeply sorry for your loss; it feels as though yet another battle has been lost... Please, try to stay strong and take pride in yourselves, for I am certain you did everything within your power to help your mother. Losses like these cut so deeply and leave me quite tearful. I understand how devastating this is, as I am still struggling myself after losing my own mother this past March to stage IIIc ovarian cancer... it hasn't even been ten full months since her diagnosis, and all I can say is that life is profoundly unfair and merciless. Hang in there, and please accept a large virtual hug from me...

It is incredibly unjust. I am sorry that you weren't afforded the same opportunities we had to gain more time and adjust to the circumstances. And yet, no matter what, it is never truly enough to accept that the one you love is slipping away...

Courage is a virtue. One must find the strength to be brave and continue moving forward, knowing our fighters are still walking beside us, even if they are no longer visible to the eye...

Angela Wright said:Dear Benjamin Grant6, please accept my deepest and most sincere condolences.
Your mother was truly a remarkable woman, a testament to how even when faced with the harshest prognoses and the most daunting diagnoses, a well-coordinated oncological approach can grant precious, quality time... I am certain that over these eight years, you all cherished moments dedicated to life's most vital little things and core values. Every goodbye is difficult, especially one that feels premature, but if we view our existence within the vast context of the universe, we are merely a flicker... and perhaps quality is, in truth, far more significant than quantity.
May she rest in peace, happy, and may you find peace in your heart to move forward with happiness, knowing you did everything possible and she gained so much from it. Honor her memory in peace.
Thank you for reaching out.

Thank you.

It is honestly difficult to weep for such a fighter. On October 9th, we were all together at Avian. It was the first time she spoke about what her doctor had told her—that "medicine has done all it can." Then, on October 19th, she decided to have a nephrostomy placed to prevent kidney atrophy, while simultaneously arranging an exam and a potential surgery at Avian (the very one they hadn't recommended)... She fought in every sense of the word.

She taught us that life can be incredibly difficult, and that one must live it to the absolute fullest. Unfortunately, the diagnosis was aggressive and severe, though she managed to navigate every stage of the illness with grace alongside her doctors, except for the very end...

Angela Wright said:Look, what can I really say... that is simply life. People fall ill, they grow old, we lose those we love... but life is also about navigating these situations which, regardless of how heavy they feel, are fundamentally natural, and we possess our own innate mechanisms to sustain us.
Try to remain rational and, as I mentioned, try not to look further into the future than tomorrow... Obstacles are overcome once you actually encounter them and face them head-on. No one and nothing can truly prepare you for absolutely anything in advance. Still, we carry a strength within ourselves that we aren't even aware of... That is my experience. I have lost much, yet life has compensated me, most notably through my children.
Be brave. It will work out somehow. The important thing is to maintain your composure and peace, because without that, one loses their dignity...

Angela Wright,
because of people like you, and posts like this offering sincere support and a genuine desire to help, I am certain that many find things a little easier to bear...

From the very first day I joined this discussion, your advice has been what kept me going, encouraged me, and helped me through... My mother finally closed her eyes and sought her well-deserved peace after an incredibly grueling eight and a half years of fighting. Her sudden departure—even though we all knew it was coming—was a shock to us and to the medical staff at the Mayo Clinic alike. Ovarian cancer, stage IIIc. She underwent two intense surgeries, and a third wasn't recommended. After eighty-six rounds of chemotherapy, we stopped counting (my father insists she actually endured more than ninety)... It felt as though she were just checking into the hospital routinely, perhaps for a nephrostomy, to bolster her blood counts and prepare her system for another round of chemo. Unfortunately, her condition took a sudden turn for the worse, and that was the point of no return...

No matter how difficult and surreal everything feels right now, I want to share a word of support and strength with everyone here, and urge you all not to give up on your loved ones until the very last moment! They predicted my mother might have six months left of such a life, yet she lived seventeen times longer than that, teaching us all how to live life to the fullest...

(p.s. I will continue to follow along here from time to time)

Brenda Johnson13 said:Hello everyone. I’ve been reading this community for quite a while now because I am personally battling breast cancer, but I am posting today regarding my sister-in-law. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer over a year ago, stage IIIc. She had surgery to remove her uterus and ovaries and completed chemotherapy, after which things seemed to be looking fairly positive. However, just a few months later, the cancer began spreading again. They moved her to a second line of chemotherapy—she went through three cycles, and they didn't help at all. An MRI revealed that the cancer has spread extensively throughout her abdomen, involving the intestines and the peritoneal lining, though nowhere else yet. In the meantime, she started vomiting constantly, grew extremely weak, and ended up hospitalized. They said the tumor is pressing against her bowels, so they operated on her yesterday. Apparently, her condition is dire and considered inoperable (I am relaying this somewhat secondhand, as I am hearing it through my brother, who is absolutely devastated).

It feels to me like the end is approaching... My sister-in-law is simply too weak to attempt anything further (perhaps another round of chemo to shrink it enough for surgery?), but since she can't keep anything down, I don't see how she could ever regain any strength. Consequently, we have mostly come to terms with the fact that she is dying. But how can we make this easier for her? It seems likely that once she recovers slightly from the surgery, they will send her home. And then what? Will she just vomit everything she tries to eat or drink because it can't pass through her intestines, eventually dying from hunger and thirst? The thought is horrifying. If anyone knows if there is anything at all we can do to provide some relief...

It breaks my heart to hear that you have already accepted that she will pass away. Perhaps that is the first step toward finding peace for everyone: find your own strength so that you may try to sustain her spirit as well. : d

Regarding stage IIIc, we are talking about an advanced progression of ovarian cancer. Treatment usually begins with surgery followed by a chemo protocol, and unfortunately, it isn't uncommon for "remnants" or a recurrence to be discovered. Based on how much it affects the abdomen, doctors generally follow specific classifications and apply certain rules for each group. I would like to offer some comfort by saying that if the ovarian cancer hasn't "escaped" the abdomen, doctors often view that as a relatively better sign...

From everything you've described, your sister-in-law has fallen into a very critical state. You mentioned she underwent surgery, yet now it is being called inoperable?

We have been fighting a stage IIIc ovarian cancer diagnosis for eight and a half years (two major surgeries and roughly 84 rounds of chemotherapy). These last two months look exactly like what your sister-in-law is going through, and it is a terrible feeling when you don't know how to ease the suffering of someone you love. Just... please, don't give up! Encourage her with every single sip of water or tea. Once the vomiting subsides, try offering light, fat-free broths... just take it one day at a time. Once she regains some strength, the doctors will surely offer more chemotherapy, and she will receive it as long as her body can tolerate it. It sounds impossible, but do not lose hope, because one's mental state is almost everything... Ultimately, perhaps she will recover better at home, in her own peace (and I truly, deeply hope she does).

For me, every single day is a constant hum of the same anxiety, grief, and helplessness. We have been through so much, and my mother has endured so much, yet every new development hits just as hard.
Hang in there!

slyviper4 said:They found three malignant tumors in him, all caught in the early stages. They’ve managed to surgically remove all three, and since nothing has metastasized, he'll just need regular follow-ups now. I am currently gathering as much information as possible because I want to support him in every way imaginable; I simply refuse to let us find ourselves in this position ever again.

I have been reading quite extensively about the acidity of the body—apparently, a German scientist was even awarded a Nobel Prize for discoveries in that realm. You can read more regarding that here:

Is there any actual truth to this, and what has been your experience? A physician I know suggested this approach to me, explaining how we might purge the "monster" from his system, though he warned there is a risk of recurrence if the body's pH isn't normalized by consuming alkaline foods rather than acidic ones...

I have completely purged his diet of junk food—no more canned meats, hot dogs, or processed spreads, nor ketchup, mayo, chocolate, ice cream, or those sugary fruit yogurts. I swapped out Gouda for fresh, local farmhouse cheese, replaced blue fish with white fish, and switched beef for chicken, though I am trying to keep meat intake to an absolute minimum. I’ve traded acidic foods for alkaline options, used honey instead of sugar, apple cider vinegar instead of wine vinegar, yogurt instead of milk, sunflower oil instead of olive oil, and wild rice instead of plain white rice. I am pushing fruits, vegetables, and that morning ritual of warm water with lemon... All in all, I find myself wondering if any of this actually makes sense, and if it does, why doctors treating cancer patients don't speak of it more openly...

Of course it makes sense. Generally speaking, eating whole, unprocessed foods benefits everyone. Doctors don't just say things without reason, either; their primary mandate is medical treatment, not lifestyle coaching. Ultimately, there is no universal rulebook... sometimes, one simply has to trust their intuition...

My own mother eats whatever she pleases, and I tend to look the other way when she indulges in fries, mayo, or whatever nonsense she feels like at the moment. But, she doesn't do it that often...

Hang in there, and continue being a pillar of strength for him...

The chemotherapy has left her feeling incredibly weak, especially with this profound muscle fatigue... Does anyone have any advice to offer? My mother was already somewhat frail to begin with, and I am genuinely concerned that being confined to bed will only accelerate her decline... I wonder if applying a topical cream might help alleviate some of this muscle pain? Thank you.

We are doing alright. Mom actually escaped the hospital and decided to head home on her own responsibility. Apparently, being at home has already "improved" her condition... though the conditions at our local hospital were clearly taking a toll on her. She’s eating well now, keeping up with her antibiotics, and seems to have regained some strength. Our only real issue is this swelling—large patches on her joints, which I suspect is a side effect of the antibiotics. She’s been drinking nettle tea, and while I’ve read about using essential oils for joint discomfort, she isn't really up for that right now. I haven't quite delved into an intensive internet search yet, but if anyone here has dealt with something similar and found a specific cream that actually works... I would truly appreciate a recommendation. Thank you.

Amanda Miller69 said:It’s over... my father-in-law passed away about an hour and a half ago... :-(

Losing someone close to you is always a heavy burden, and no matter how hard we try to find the strength to accept that their suffering has finally come to an end, there simply aren't any words that can truly ease the grief... I am sincerely sorry that Fiona has to endure another loss, and honestly, it feels like a defeat in the struggle against life itself... It’s just unfair. They say that no one truly dies as long as we carry them in our hearts and minds...

Hang in there...

Amanda Miller69 said:One more thing; a friend just mentioned that visiting hospitals while pregnant isn't exactly a great idea, especially places like palliative care, just so I don't pick up some nasty infection or something...
It actually occurred to me this past Saturday that it might not be the healthiest move either. They’re planning to head back next weekend, so I'm wondering if my husband should just go with his mother instead? I really don't want to risk the baby, and as much as I adore my father-in-law, my child comes first and is the absolute priority...

It’s risky for anyone, but when you're pregnant, you aren't just worrying about germs—you have to consider the stress as well. You can enter and exit the hospital with sanitized hands and wear a gown if they provide one... but there is never any real guarantee that you won't catch something...

Around here, we’ve been dealing with a sudden wave of stress and low morale after a single night where four patients on the ward passed away. As for my mother, there hasn't been much progress, other than all of us trying to get her to eat and drink on her own. We're taking it day by day, hoping she'll be home by the end of the week...

Amanda Miller69 said:Go straight to the head nurse, demand an audience with the clinic director, and start threatening them with the local news and major networks. That is exactly what my sister-in-law did when they essentially "ignored" my father-in-law following his surgery. Suddenly, everyone became incredibly attentive, and he received every bit of care he required...
He hasn't been able to eat or drink anything either...

It isn't E. coli. They suspect it might be gallstones, perhaps an atrophied kidney, a hernia pressing against the stomach, or even just the reaction to her previous therapy versus what she is receiving now. She has decided to manage her own hydration, since the hospital's offerings of toast and tea simply don't agree with her. She is acting quite manic...🙏 though I suppose anyone would be if they were suffering from such intense hunger...

Day after day... 🙂

Amanda Miller69 said:Go straight to the Head Nurse, demand to see the Chief of Medicine, and start threatening them with calls to the local news and major networks. That is exactly what my sister-in-law did when they essentially "neglected" my father-in-law following his surgery. Suddenly, everyone was scrambling to be helpful, and he finally received the care he deserved.
He wasn't even able to eat or drink anything...

I will certainly try. However, I feel I must let my father handle things the way he sees fit, given that he has managed everything on his own up until now without much issue. My mother’s oncologist returns this Monday, and I am certain the treatment plan will be adjusted then...

In this particular facility, making threats won't achieve much. I attempted that last year, and the reaction was nothing short of terrible...

Angela Wright said:One could simply be candid and explain that they have this specific condition and that issue, and then there is that other concern... there is no need to tell someone they are facing mortality, but rather to say, "Here is where we stand; we will do everything possible to aid your recovery, you will receive care here that would be impossible to coordinate at home, and our goal is to restore your quality of life, provided you have patience and time."
All of this can be communicated in a manner that is both normal and acceptable to everyone...

It seems as though our doctors and nurses spend their days practicing how to be even more discourteous, as if finding a shred of empathy were an insurmountable task for them...😠

I was reading an article the other day regarding the proper way to inform someone that they are facing a difficult illness and what lies ahead. Studies suggest that patients respond much better when a physician takes the time to provide an introduction, explaining which tests have been completed and which are pending, before finally delivering the actual news after thirty or forty minutes have passed...

My mother is practically vomiting every time she tries to speak, and it is not just the illness; it is the fact that she isn't even provided with a basin to vomit into, yet the nurse actually becomes angry with us simply for asking for one!?! I find myself wondering if this level of service is standard across all hospitals in the country...🤔

As of today, my mother still hasn't received her antibiotics. The doctor instructed her to take them in capsule form, but she is unable to do so due to the vomiting. They haven't even administered intravenous nutrition, despite the fact that > suggested it...

I am feeling a slow, simmering rage because, for the second time in the last year, we are enduring these exact same struggles and battles to try and make things easier for our loved ones...

Amanda Miller69 said:Our healthcare system is absolutely useless...

I was terrified to death just now; they called from Cliffside, and I was already bracing myself for them to tell me it was all over, but by some stroke of luck, my sister called to ask if anyone from the family would be coming in to speak with the doctor to discuss the current status. They seem to want the patient to somehow understand how things stand, and I simply told them that you cannot just tell a man he is finished, that he is dying—it isn't humane...
For the moment, they have "packaged" the news so that once he recovers slightly, he will undergo surgery, which is presumably the little shred of hope keeping him going. If they were to tell him the truth, I suspect he would just give up and pass away...
Do they actually have the right to say such things to a patient, even if they attempt to frame it in a "gentle" way?

How am I supposed to endure all of this on Saturday while being pregnant? I don't want to end up giving birth prematurely due to the stress, God forbid, or jeopardize my baby and my pregnancy...

Our doctors aren't exactly trained in tact. The physicians at Aviano are much more discreet. There was only one occasion where a doctor was being blunt, and his father had to remind him to try not to discuss outcomes in such a coarse manner, because ultimately, we could all board a plane tomorrow and perish...

Around here, it is exclusively the mother who communicates with the doctors, and personally, I feel that a patient should never be told absolutely everything, especially if they are approaching the end :-/

The stress is Terrible; please take care of yourself and your little one! That tiny life needs your help too...

I find myself quite scattered, making a steady stream of mistakes throughout the day—particularly at work...

Amanda Miller69 said:Benjamin Grant6, you have to fight for the medication, shout, make demands... A mother's life is paramount, and I truly hope you manage to secure the same outcome.
It is arguably better for her to be under hospital supervision, at least they can react promptly if things take a turn for the worse...

I spoke with my mother-in-law yesterday, and the situation was even more dire than I had anticipated. My husband was woken up in the middle of the night because he heard his father coughing, gasping, and moaning; he woke my wife, and they called an ambulance, which rushed him to the hospital in Springfield. The poor man was struggling just to breathe through all that congestion...
The doctor also informed them to prepare for the worst, suggesting there might be no way to help...
He is currently at Cliffside, and I will be driving my mother-in-law there this Saturday, though the very thought of it fills me with dread, as it brings back such painful memories of my own mother, and my father-in-law is like a second father to me...
I am terrified of exposing my baby to this much stress—which I know I shouldn't, and perhaps shouldn't even do—but I suppose I am simply wired to help people...
My husband returns to NYC on Saturday for work; otherwise, he would be the one driving her...
We are all feeling rather wretched right now, and unfortunately, we are just waiting for the end...

Zachary Howard2, I believe what you are going through is absolutely harrowing... Last year around this time, I lost my grandmother, and fighting for her rights within the hospital system completely exhausted us. It makes it so much harder to accept that Mom is in that very same facility now...
I know this may sound harsh, but when it came to Dad's medication, the hospital staff essentially brushed us off, and we actually had to go out and find information from a major pharmaceutical wholesaler ourselves just to understand why the medication was stuck, and whether there would even be a chance for him to continue receiving it once he started... It is difficult enough for us, but I cannot begin to imagine how it feels for those whom our blunt healthcare system gives false hope...
Right now, our sole focus is on his recovery, and I trust that by Monday, we will receive word that the oncologist is adjusting the therapy... We are prepared to do whatever it takes, and just as before, our financial resources are entirely dedicated to ensuring she receives adequate treatment...

Amanda Miller69 said:Keep an eye out for any signs of bowel obstruction, particularly if she starts experiencing intense pain... it happened to my mother, and had they not performed surgery, things would have taken a very dark turn within three days.

They are going to hospitalize her against her will. She’s already dealt with E. coli in her urine twice this year alone, and since she hasn't been on her medication for twenty days now, everything has just sort of... unraveled. I am quite stunned, considering everything seemed perfectly normal just fifteen days ago.

Once she is under hospital supervision, I am certain she will begin to recover properly 👍and it will be significantly easier for us to coordinate with the medical staff, given that she has insisted on handling all her doctor appointments entirely on her own all these years (I will make sure to ask about the intestinal issues when I can, so thank you for the heads-up, Zachary Howard2).

Naturally, there hasn't been even a whisper regarding her medication 😠and regardless, she wouldn't even be able to take it at this stage anyway...

We continue to push forward 🙂with everything we have...👍

Douglas Ward9 said:She would be better off sticking to some mint tea; honestly, soda is probably the absolute worst thing she could be consuming while feeling this nauseous...

I assume he’s likely tried suggesting it herself as well, and I find myself agreeing with the sentiment... though I suppose I must allow her the autonomy to decide what she can actually stomach. Thank you for the suggestion, I will certainly pass along the idea of trying mint...

Amanda Miller69 said:I asked to have my mother-in-law driven to the hospital in Pakrac today, and she stayed there... She was coughing heavily and struggling to breathe. From there, they plan to transfer her to Strmac.
My husband mentioned that his mother was perhaps a bit too harsh with him yesterday—it felt like a sudden blow out of nowhere... though she had already lost her patience with him. My husband thought yesterday he might still be able to stay home, but today we realized the situation is far more serious than we imagined.
The palliative care nurse called me today to say they will accept him at Strmec, so he will be moved there either today or by next week at the latest... if he makes it that far.

At least now we know he is under medical supervision, and they will do everything possible to ensure he can pass with dignity...

I truly hope for a recovery! 🙂

Does anyone here have experience with patients who vomit or suffer from diarrhea regardless of what they eat or drink? Mom says she is hungry, yet she has been unable to keep anything down for seven days straight... She managed to keep a little Coca-Cola down today, but obviously, that isn't a solution.

wanderingtinker81 said:I am so sorry about your mother... 😢

Thank you; I have been reading up on his surgeries, and they sound rather radical, so I am uncertain how she would receive them... I will have to sit down and talk with her.

If anyone else happens to have any advice or recommendations, please feel free to share.

One always assumes such terrible things only happen to others, until you realize that no one is truly immune... My mother is only 50, and genetics didn't even play a role here.

You always think these tragedies strike someone else, but when they hit home, you learn so much about the people you love and those who love you...

My mother was 56 when the diagnosis of Stage IIIc ovarian cancer struck us... She lacked strength following the surgery, and it seemed as though the prognosis was destined to worsen. At that time, her oncologist told her, "Life is like a meter with 100 centimeters. You were destined for 100 years, so how could you give up now at just 56, having barely passed the halfway mark?" That single sentence was the turning point that drove her to defy the odds and endure for eight and a half years...

Today, we are facing exactly what we feared—the necessary medication is unavailable, her physical strength has plummeted, and she can find no will to even get out of bed for her children... She is helpless, and we are helpless, yet as always, we face it all together. Unfortunately, there is no real advice to offer other than listening, believing, and hoping that things might improve...🙂 One shouldn't cry too much or dwell excessively on the illness... psychologically, it only weakens her.

Every oncology patient is a unique case... My mother hardly ever used supplements or alternative methods. In fact, she still maintains a lifestyle where a cigarette serves as a substitute for breakfast... Most people don't even realize what kind of battle is being fought, even in a small community like ours.

I am currently spending my time reflecting and scouring forums to figure out how to approach her and provide strength... because some ruthless, unfeeling bureaucracy isn't going to stop us. This is the third week without the medication, and the latest update is that a new form was filed this morning, meaning my mother’s documentation is headed back to the medical board for review. They are playing a game of bureaucratic ping-pong, using every tactic available just to stall the compassionate import process which, if it ever actually happens, still requires approval from the Department of Health...

Amanda Miller69 said:Benjamin Grant6, I still remember when my own mother was fighting this same cancer... though unfortunately, she lost that battle after two years.
I find myself back here again because my father-in-law has reached the terminal stage of esophageal cancer, and we are left wondering how much time he truly has left.

I truly admire your mother for everything she managed to achieve; her resilience is remarkable, and I sincerely hope she continues to hold her ground...

I am so sorry to hear that you are facing such a grueling battle once again. Regardless of the outcome, one must fight until the very end.

You learn so much about yourself and those around you when someone close falls ill... it certainly teaches you to cherish every single day.

Angela Wright said:I suspect the issue lies in the fact that he’s completed his primary treatment and now finds himself in this limbo where nothing more can be done, yet he isn't quite ready to claim victory either. It seems to be draining him... you know that feeling of endless waiting in a trench, never knowing when the enemy will fire again, or if you'll even survive if they send you into no man's land.
He really needs to find some way to engage with his health—boosting his immunity, perhaps some light physical activity... anything to restore that sense of agency and control over his own situation.

Well, Mom is a lioness. I clearly remember when you all traveled to Aviano. She truly endured everything. Until now, the only one I knew who could withstand such intense Chemotherapy was the late Vedran, and she has actually managed even more than he did. She is exceptional and serves as an inspiration to others, much as you do through your unwavering support.

Hemoglobin levels in oncology patients are most effectively raised via transfusion.

Thank you, Angela Wright! We are acutely aware of it all, and it reminds me of something a professor once told me back in college: "You remember every single day of the struggle; you know exactly where you stood at any given hour."

It is a stroke of luck that Mom experienced medical care abroad, which felt more like a luxury getaway compared to the reality here in Pula. She met fighters of all ages there and absorbed some of the energy that keeps them going. She has been receiving Chemotherapy in Pula for a while now, and I can tell she’s reaching her limit; her body is exhausted, even if her spirit refuses to surrender. She is currently on an IV drip. I’m not entirely sure of the specific medication, but it provides her with strength. The latest news is that the import of the medication has been approved, so we are hoping she can begin that regimen very soon.