Posts by Benjamin Grant6

Kate Doyle45 said:Thank God my sister is doing a bit better... she’s started eating soup and yogurt again... just spoonful by spoonful, but progress is being made. Her sugar levels have been running quite high, so chocolate cereals, fruit smoothies, juices, or cocoa are strictly off the table for now. She had her first follow-up appointment, and the doctors believe things are finally looking up... though we aren't daring to hope for anything else yet. To undergo 14 surgeries in less than three years is an unimaginable burden, and through all of this, she has proven to be far stronger than any of us... a true fighter.
I wish you all God's grace and good health! ...and of course, I wish every family out there immense strength and optimism... stay strong!

Small steps lead to great triumphs. It is vital to maintain the belief that things will improve, but even more important is that everyone remains steadfast in the struggle—especially her...
She has truly experienced the reality of this fight, and she will fight for everything she can! With that kind of resolve, she will surely emerge victorious over these hardships! Hang in there!

Sam Murphy33 said:Thank you... she’s home today. She’s scheduled for surgery this Sunday; they let her come home over the weekend... I feel like I'm at my breaking point, completely mentally exhausted, and barely able to stay on my feet even though I'm managing all the daily chores. She actually seems to be doing better than me. Even though I've read mountains of literature about the importance of positive thinking, I can't seem to apply any of it right now, even though I know I should... perhaps things will improve, but for now, there is only fear and uncertainty...

You'll feel better the moment you realize that this is simply part of life—that fighting for every single day means something more for her, for you, and for everyone in your household.

The initial shock is always the hardest part. I remember having conversations with my mother as if we were watching a final movie performance, feeling like we had to make up for lost time. Even now, two years and a few months later, I wake up every morning wondering if everything is okay, and every night I wonder if she's sleeping soundly. The worst thing is being asked, "Is she okay now?" because there really isn't an answer. It's always the same—whether before she was sick or during this current struggle, they don't feel any real change just because you're doing everything in your power. The only noticeable changes are the fatigue, a certain numbness, and what I'd call a sense of being elsewhere... but I noticed all those same things after the first round of chemo too.

In any case, try to find some strength... and if you already know that you're struggling more than she is, perhaps take on even more responsibilities or tasks, just to prevent those negative thoughts from looping endlessly inside you and magnifying your fear...

It’s Sunday now, and I imagine you saw her off to the hospital after a pleasant weekend together! Once the surgery is behind you and you start to see her recovery taking hold, things will feel lighter. Hang in there...

Sam Murphy33 said:My mom is heading into the hospital tomorrow... thank you all for the replies... I intend to be her pillar of strength... this is incredibly difficult for me

No matter how heavy this feels, try to remain steady and keep the faith. Find some inner strength for your own sake first, and then for hers... so that instead of showing her tears, you can offer her a smile...

When you are confronted with an illness like this, perhaps the only positive perspective to help navigate the acceptance is realizing that this, too, is simply a chapter of life...

For me, the weight of it hasn't lightened; it feels just as heavy now, even when things seem stable, as it did the very first moment I learned what my mother was facing. Sometimes, without even realizing it, I find myself calling out her name just to hear a voice... just to confirm she is still "there"...

Please, let us know how the surgery goes... stay strong...

Casey Palmer5 said:Folks, I went diving in a cave today. My crew set up some occupational therapy for me, and honestly, I can say it beats any standard treatment out there...

I am truly glad to hear that!

feralridge3 said:Lately, I’ve been wondering what I did to deserve this ordeal... 🤷
and why I wasn't granted the privilege of having everything wrapped up through some sort of expedited process. 🤷
Instead, I'm just putting myself and my family through this endless grind.

I often think about a young man I knew—his brain tumor was diagnosed just two days before mine. Three weeks later, he was gone. He was only 24 or 25, I can't quite recall, and he had a wife and a small child. It was devastating. 😢
Sometimes, I find myself thinking that perhaps he was actually relieved it ended so quickly, spared from the prolonged suffering.

So, I’m with you on this one—to hell with all of it.

My mother circles that same question constantly, and sometimes I don't know how to answer her beyond telling her that maybe this had to be an experience for all of us, to realize that aside from the four of us under this roof, there is no other family. The hardest part is explaining to her that she isn't fighting for herself, but for us; not because we need her for some irrational reason, but because we need her as our guide, as the edge that cuts us through the thorns...

Occasionally, I wonder myself if I would have been happier if our struggle had reached a swift conclusion, or if I am truly fortunate that it continues even after two years. Then I remind myself that I cannot afford to be selfish, because she is suffering far more than I am, watching it all unfold from the sidelines.

No matter how exhausting it gets, as long as there is strength left to fight—keep fighting. Family is there to provide that strength and to believe alongside you, simply because that is what love demands.

Casey Palmer5 said:Life is just a mess; precisely when you think everything has finally aligned, someone decides to hit you over the head with a sledgehammer... But I’m making it my mission to fulfill all our shared plans, because I know that is His will.

And God can go straight to hell.

Life is one massive injustice, a constant struggle that some people have to endure in the most brutal sense... but one must find the courage to follow through on what was planned, not necessarily because He wants it, but because you wanted it together.

There is no way to make up for what has been lost, yet there is a way to move forward with the same strength, if you believe that things simply had to be this way... He left you here alone to prove everything you are capable of, and when you meet again, you will be stronger for having endured it together.

God is unfair, truly... perhaps there are valid reasons, I suppose, though I couldn't tell you what they are.

Casey Palmer5 said:Regrettably, the villain proved more powerful.

I fear I shall never encounter such a wonderful soul again; he was truly one of a kind...

I am deeply shaken 😢 In such a brief window of time? It feels profoundly unjust. Please accept my most sincere condolences; try to remain resilient during these difficult days and prepare yourself for the life ahead, for he will continue to accompany you—certainly in spirit, in heart, and in thought...

casualrider21 said:@Susan Diaz91/">@@Susan Diaz91 thanks for the support. I suppose I am just so incredibly optimistic that I feel compelled to share it with you all... though even I can't quite fathom where this level of hope and positivity originates from within me. I am certainly no ally to that wretched disease...🙂

Yes, my father has small cell lung cancer with metastases in the liver and bones.
The doctors had essentially written him off by Christmas...
But... we have our own methods, even if they aren't exactly what the MDs would endorse...😉

He has completed 9 cycles of chemo (each cycle consisting of two administrations).
Up to this point, his blood work has been remarkably strong. He has also been taking various germs and natural juices for quite some time... among many other things... huh...🙂

@mistyridge5/">@@mistyridge5, everything is going to be alright 😉

Hang in there, everyone, and "do not give" those bastards what belongs to you...👍

Stay optimistic and don't let your faith waver! After all, every new day is a fresh start, so just keep pushing forward bravely...

Susan Diaz91 said:Dearly beloved neighbors who are undergoing chemotherapy, I wonder if brief loss of consciousness can be a side effect...
My mother has completed eight rounds of chemo, and yesterday was particularly grueling for her—especially considering she suffers from low blood pressure—and she actually stood up for a moment only to lose consciousness... it was quite brief...

They immediately put her on an IV, and it appears she might be dehydrated, as she struggles to take in enough fluids while managing heart medication meant to prevent exhaustion...

I find myself reflecting on this and felt compelled to ask whether such fainting is a symptom of something deeper, or perhaps merely a reaction to the chemotherapy itself.
Aside from that, she isn't in pain; she is simply overwhelmed by weakness, spending most of her time either sitting or lying down, occasionally moving around the room. There is no fluid in her lungs (thank God), though that doesn't mean it won't develop eventually... because someone mentioned here that Gemzar works, but not indefinitely...😢

I see that brisksurfer wrote something similar before me. As for myself, I am prone to low blood pressure and anemia, and my digestive system has been absolutely revolting lately due to something I ate—forgive my bluntness, but that is the reality—and I must admit I haven't been able to do anything but lie down for two days now; my entire body aches as if I have muscular fiber inflammation, which is inexplicable to me, other than the fact that it hit 95 degrees in my small town at 11 this morning.

I haven't actually noticed my mother losing consciousness; rather, it manifests as periods where she simply drifts away, becoming irritable when we remind her that we've already asked her the same question ten times. I must confess, it isn't easy to keep repeating ourselves, and we are all feeling incredibly tense given this heat and the general circumstances...

Still, one must try to remain stoic, and I truly hope that her lucidity returns to normal in time...

Therefore, I sincerely hope that your mother's fainting is tied to the temperatures and the current environment, and nothing more serious than that... Hang in there!

Casey Palmer5 said:I try to stay positive because I am still breathing, because I am still alive... 🙂))))

Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any harder—back when nothing seemed to be going my way, though I hadn't yet faced anything as heavy as a serious illness or my mother's current health struggles—my mom sent me a CD with that specific song and told me there was simply no way not to maintain a positive outlook...

Many of you have already shared some truly excellent advice here, so I suppose all that remains for me to do is join the chorus and say—just stay brave...

restlessseal92 said:Dear fellow forum members...
The reason I am joining this forum is due to a devastating illness that invaded our family about two years ago. Back in May 2007, my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It was clearly at an advanced stage; her tumor markers were soaring above 15,000, there was significant fluid buildup in her body, and the sheer volume of the tumor was quite visible... Following the diagnosis and a fluid aspiration, she underwent four rounds of chemotherapy following the standard protocol, which yielded positive results almost immediately. This was followed by surgery and another four rounds of chemo. My mother handled the treatment relatively well; while nausea and low white blood cell counts were constant companions, we always managed to get her back on her feet using various supplements—some from the garden, some from the pharmacy, and others sourced from abroad... After her final round of chemotherapy, we entered a period of regular checkups where her marker levels remained nearly perfect for months. Then, everything fell apart in January 2009. She began complaining of abdominal pain and intense crises, with rib pain that became increasingly unbearable with each passing day. The tests she underwent at the hospital made it painfully clear that the disease had returned in full force. With a marker level of 460, a 10cm tumor, and 5 liters of fluid in her abdomen, we had every reason to be terrified. We found ourselves back in the same cycle: fluid aspiration followed by carboplatin chemotherapy (without any additives). However, after just two treatments, she has become so debilitated that further therapy isn't even being considered due to severe anemia; she has lost her appetite and suffers from periodic vomiting. Worst of all, the doctors at the Mayo Clinic told us that the treatment simply isn't working, because after only two doses, her marker jumped from 600 to 3,000. Furthermore, they refused to admit her because her hemoglobin dropped below 70 and her red blood cell count fell below two; the medical staff felt that giving her a transfusion might actually do more harm than good... At this point, we are starting to seriously question the clinical decisions being made. Her most recent blood work from Thursday, May 21, 2009, showed a hemoglobin level of 54, indicating a transfusion was absolutely necessary, yet twenty-four hours later, my mother was discharged from the hospital. She was left in such a frail, hollow state, with no prospect of undergoing further treatment. They suggested that if anything were needed, we could go to a facility in a nearby suburb... I am asking for an objective assessment of these medical decisions. Is it truly possible, or even remotely normal, for doctors to look at a single diagnostic result—a marker that is undeniably an indicator of disease progression—and essentially wash their hands of a patient? To just say "that's it" without offering further testing or alternative suggestions... To reiterate, she was on her second line of treatment with carboplatin, which failed to show any efficacy, causing her marker to spike from 600 to 3,000 after only two sessions. Is it conceivable that there is no alternative therapy, or perhaps no way to stabilize her enough just to walk like a human being again, so that we might then attempt something else?... Incidentally, she was finally given a prescription for Prosera a week ago, after we had been buying it for her out-of-pocket for weeks, but she cannot tolerate it at all. I would be endlessly grateful for any advice, as we are all in a state of total shock over this decision. Who should we turn to...
My thanks to you all for the time and effort spent wading through this endless, rambling post...

Hello, restlessseal92...
It is honestly quite difficult to even stomach reading this kind of thing, especially when the reality hits so close to home... knowing that my own mother struggled through these exact same issues with this very same illness during those same periods...

Based on those specific markers, it wouldn't make sense to just throw in the towel... I suspect any decision made by the doctors is rooted in her overall physical condition, and honestly, your mother really needs to undergo immunotherapy...

Please, don't hesitate for a second... as Amanda Miller69 mentioned earlier, you should really seek out a second opinion at a clinic on Petrov or wherever else you feel comfortable going to get another perspective...

What strikes me as truly baffling is the sheer speed at which such a significant recurrence developed within her body; a ten-centimeter mass is certainly nothing to dismiss lightly... It suggests there may have been a lapse somewhere along the line, though that shouldn't imply any reason to surrender now, as there are still avenues available for your mother to continue her fight. Her markers are likely climbing because there is still an underlying imbalance present in her system, presumably originating from a site distinct from where the initial removal took place.

In any event—do not lose heart, and make every possible effort to restore her appetite. Prepare goat broth or hearty vegetable soups, and perhaps craft fresh fruit and vegetable juices (specifically blends of beet, carrot, apple, and lemon)... offer her purees to help build her strength, bananas, hard cheeses, or grapes... you might even start by keeping a tally of how many nourishing soups or small glasses of juice she consumes; we adopted a similar approach, and once my own mother realized she had managed two nutritious soups in just two days, she became much more diligent about her intake...

It is genuinely difficult for me to provide more specific guidance since I am not an expert in this field, but I sincerely hope things begin to take a turn for the better for your family... Please, do not forget to hold onto positivity and faith, and keep fighting...

Kate Doyle45 said:Honey, you have our sympathy... it feels quite grim to say "welcome to this thread," as one would prefer the numbers here to remain as small as possible, but we are all here to lean on one another. Last night, I learned that my sister's tumor has spread to her palate... despite ten previous surgeries, they never even touched the palate area... I am terrified it might move into the sinuses... though I won't even let myself go there. Through all of this, she is the one trying to comfort us.
So please, focus on being strength for your loved one, while we provide yours. Good luck.

I managed to watch a segment of the Face of the Nation, and the reality is that the number of people affected is steadily climbing 😢 which is perhaps the least comforting realization one can face.

I suspect your sister provides such comfort because those facing this struggle see the world through a different lens—she is far braver than those of us who spend too much time overthinking everything... 😢

Casey Palmer5 As stated by:
So, here I am again... essentially living life on pause...

It is difficult to find the right words when someone is hurting, because, honestly, the only real comfort you can offer is being there for one another... You have goals and dreams—and please, don't fall into the trap of saying "we had plans"—so just hold onto the belief that you will reach them. Perhaps everything will be delayed or shifted around, but you will get there... strongly, and together...

Fate—or whatever else we choose to call it when we need a little comfort... My mother was admitted to the hospital for the very first time right on her birthday. Then, exactly six months later, just as my father was celebrating his, he woke up in the middle of a pre-heart attack episode and tried to tell her things were looking grim, only for her to snap back, "Why are you bothering me now? I know it's your birthday," before it finally dawned on her that he wasn't joking and they needed to get to the emergency room immediately. Whether that was destiny or something else entirely, I simply cannot say...

What I am trying to say is that you all possess such incredible energy and vitality, judging by the way you write—certainly more than most of us who bother to show up here... so, regardless of whatever "fate" might have in store, keep planning those next summits and pushing toward the top. Hang in there...

Kate Doyle45 said:Nancy Hernandez43, thank you for those kind words and all that positivity... I wish nothing but strength in this fight for all of you and your families, along with what matters most in this life—health and love. Please, stay strong, everyone...

I can only speak to what this illness has meant for my own little family based on our experience. Just two years ago, things were unimaginable, yet now, we can actually spend several days in a row walking and talking together as a group of four... My mother often asks herself why this had to happen to her, but the truth is, perhaps Providence intended for this to occur just so we could become a true "all for one and one for all" kind of family...

No matter how well everything seems to be going right now—believe me, I feel that same paralyzing fear I felt the night I first learned she was sick, though I never let it show—I find myself applying ointments to her skin to distract her from her thoughts, and instead of offering soft comforts, I sometimes find myself being quite blunt, almost critical, just to spur her into being more resilient...

You know as well as I do that when you look at someone suffering, you desperately want to shoulder at least a portion of their pain; you know that when you see them ill, you long to promise them a full recovery; and you know all too well the weight of helplessness, because while you cannot guarantee those things, you can ensure that life moves forward along a slightly more meaningful and brighter path... by helping to ease the heavy thoughts and anxiety, and if you can manage to mix a bit of humor with a dose of honesty, you might actually bolster her hope and faith... A healthy person has endless desires, but a sick person has only one... and they simply cannot afford to lose it...

Hang in there...

Amanda Miller69 said:Tonight on ABC at 10:20 PM, the program "Faces of the Nation" will be discussing the prevention and treatment of severe oncological and cardiovascular diseases here in America, so if anyone happens to be interested...

Thanks for the heads-up. We won't be able to tune in because of my mother—she’s still having a difficult time processing everything—so if there happens to be a way to watch it online later, please let me know where!

The truth is, a topic like this really should capture our attention, and we all ought to be more proactive about it... but it is what it is. Not everyone possesses the same level of courage or energy...

Kate Doyle45 said:They might even prescribe her some Methotrexate. We truly try our best to maintain a positive outlook, but when we hear she has to go under the knife again—as if the sky were falling upon us—it triggers this cycle of mutual consolation and reassurances that everything will be fine, which carries on for three years straight... It is quite a blessing that she has such a wonderful partner by her side, someone who isn't bothered by the fact that so many of her teeth had to be removed or that she can barely speak. We all tend to think the best, unable to let ourselves imagine for even a single second that things could get any worse. Thanks for your kind words... this is a page I have read frequently, though I never imagined I would one day be using it to unburden my soul. My thanks to you for this space, and for everything you do for other patients, even if, sadly, you lost your own battle.

Angela Wright has essentially written everything I would have said myself. It is difficult to accept that this situation is repeating itself, and the fear feels even more heavy than it did at the beginning, yet with courage and this shared sense of love and care, you can all look back and say how much you have already overcome, and that the most important thing is simply to keep fighting.

In truth, battles aren't even truly lost once a person realizes just how much weight they were actually carrying...

By some miracle, my mother fought through it, and her results are currently good. Yesterday, she entered the hospital for the twentieth time, and the fear and bitterness were visibly more intense than they were at the very start of her journey when the diagnosis was still uncertain. Sometimes it is hard enough to face one's own illnesses, but it is even harder when you see others suffering in the hallways, especially when those people are young.

Walking through the hospital alongside her, I found myself feeling different. I looked into the eyes of every patient, silently wishing they would believe and fight, and when I shook the hands of the doctors and nurses and saw that despite every lost battle—which takes its toll on them too—they remained bright, smiling, and spoke with a pleasant sense of humor, saying things like "we hope we don't see you quite this often" or "just stay cheerful," I realized that while death is inevitable, one should strive to manage their days and their life with cheerfulness in every moment.

Do not be despondent, but rather, find your courage! There is no reason to give up, and regardless of how long the recovery takes, the most important thing is that your sister recovers after every surgery.

brisksurfer said:Thank you! 😘 I’m feeling a bit better today... I managed to pull myself together somewhat. Yesterday, I couldn't stop crying all day—I was still trying to maintain my pride by not breaking down in front of Dad, but when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror earlier 😲... He definitely noticed I wasn't myself.😢 Though, I suspect that depressing rain didn't help matters either...
In truth, it always gets to me whenever I start browsing online and see how many people are fighting cancer...

I am walking through those exact same things—the same grief, the same despair, the same restlessness. There was a day when I felt completely leveled, partly because of the weather and partly because of a radio program I heard. It seems I have this stretch of decent days, only for one single day to arrive where everything just falls apart. So, don't mention it; unfortunately, we are in the same boat, and one simply has to endure it.

Regarding the waiting periods and the doctors—even out here, the wait times are much like they are back home; it isn't exactly fast, though perhaps marginally more efficient. My specialists are located in Avian, which isn't exactly a short drive from Washington, D.C. (230 miles), but so far, every cent and every mile driven has been worth it.

I truly hope you find a way to expedite everything! Hang in there! 👍

brisksurfer said:I suppose I celebrated far too early... 😢
Another medical blunder has occurred... apparently, when my dad went in for his follow-up CT last week, it didn't just confirm the lung cancer was still there, but showed it had grown from 2.5cm to 5cm. His bronchi seem fine now, likely thanks to the antibiotics. He went back to the hospital in Washington, D.C. today, and the doctor expressed confusion over why they only performed a bronchoscopy last time, given that it wasn't sufficient—they really should have done a biopsy as well. We have to wait until May 21st for the next round of tests, at which point he’ll be admitted to the hospital. This means it will have been six months since they first noticed changes in his lungs...
I honestly don't know what to do... this has left me in a state of absolute despair... 🙂

Every path seems to lead toward despair, yet if there is any way to avoid it, you simply shouldn't succumb to it; please, try not to let yourself fall apart. First and foremost, tears won't solve anything, and while you might try to hide them, people will see the reflection on your face, and worst of all, your father will feel it too; for a patient, having a stable emotional anchor and a sense of positivity is vital, as your own grief could easily manifest as restlessness for him...

I can only imagine how devastating it feels to wait that long for testing, but time tends to move quickly; before you know it, May 21st will be upon you...

My mother scheduled her marker tests and CT scan just seven days ago, only to be told, "Oh, ma'am, we can't get you in until May 5th." She played the hero this time, just smiling and replying, "Ah, right, well, at least I can come back a week later then." It always feels like a cycle of waiting, anticipation, and preparing for more results... unfortunately, this is the reality of life alongside someone fighting cancer, and one must accept these circumstances, however difficult they may be. Hang in there...

gentletiger46 said:Personally, despite my name, I’m not really interested in debating—however, I truly cannot stomach those who profit from the most critically ill by selling snake oil using the exact same tired methods... half-truths and twisted data used to mimic expertise, yet they possess no actual counterarguments when faced with concrete questions or logic. I apologize if my sharp tone has offended anyone, but I consider such individuals to be just as criminal as murderers. Anyway, enough of that.

Here is a little bit of good news from my side—it has been one week since my first round of chemo (I have Hodgkin lymphoma) and I feel quite wonderful. No mouth sores, my hair is still firmly on my head, and I am working while thinking very little about the illness. In fact, that intense pain in my breastbone that plagued me these last few weeks—a result of a large growth in my mediastinum—has almost entirely vanished! Perhaps the mass is shrinking and suffering... I can only hope it is squirming and screaming in agony; I find a certain enjoyment in imagining it as some sort of giant rotisserie chicken over the flames of chemotherapy...

I am tracking my veins with Heparin cream in the hopes of preventing them from hardening. I am taking beta-glucans and various vitamins, eating healthily (plenty of fish rich in omega-3s, vegetables, fruit, pineapple...), and so on. I picked up a lovely green and white tea from a Green tea house (a little shop in Washington, D.C., near the Hunting horn) which smells divine and even contains bits of real fruit. My mother tells me they also carry mint—which was incredibly soothing for my nausea—and ginger. I plan to try them next week during my treatment and will let you all know how it goes...

holloweagle6—that sounds great, they seem quite proactive. Take your mother and yourself for a nice stroll along the coast, then grab some ice cream on the waterfront to help you both forget about all this. But do try to persuade your mother to go privately if the wait for surgery is long (though, I don't quite understand what there would be to wait for, given it isn't major surgery under general anesthesia—everything is outpatient, after all; my husband had two large moles removed at once in just thirty minutes!). Melanomas are incredibly fast and aggressive, and any delay with them is extremely dangerous. It is better to be overly cautious and rush than to wait...

casualrider21 — best of luck.

It is truly a pleasure to read such positive news! I hope we continue to see updates like this... stay brave and keep remaining this strong!👍

Drew Allen said:Angela WrightEver since I first surfaced on this forum, you have maintained such a consistently hostile attitude toward me... First of all, perhaps you could try being a bit more civil and refrain from the insults...
If you insist on clinging so tightly to your own rules and being strictly "on-topic," you might find it more efficient to use English terms rather than constantly reaching for words from your own language... As for your comment about "trolling," I honestly don't follow your meaning at all. Perhaps you could translate that into a language that actually makes sense to me...
I have already laid out my situation, but since you are being so incredibly stubborn and refuse to actually listen or show even a shred of empathy, that is quite frankly YOUR problem... It seems like you’ve adopted this rigid mindset where it’s either "go to the doctor or die," or perhaps "go to some herbalist and you're doomed." As if you couldn't possibly care if someone actually finds healing through an alternative path... I am completely open to every perspective and every possible method of recovery, yet you have simply retreated into your little shell and refused to budge...
I have seen right through your little performance here... You are desperately trying to convince people of something you aren't even certain of yourself. And as for my posts being deleted, let’s be clear: they are being removed because you are rushing the process, not because I insulted anyone. No one is actually interested in deleting your messages, but since you have 5,500 posts, your word carries more weight than mine simply by virtue of volume...
Have you ever paused to consider whether your presence here might be irritating those who read your posts without feeling the need to participate? It seems unlikely that you have, given the self-centered assumption that you possess all the answers... though I suspect you ought to realize there is quite a lot you still don't know...
It is truly a massive tragedy that we have allowed ourselves to become so fractured by certain individuals in this community—split between those who put their absolute faith in doctors and those who refuse to trust them... if only we could set aside these petty divisions and join forces instead, working with every ounce of strength we possess to find a cure for cancer, regardless of which side of the aisle it comes from...

Let’s lower the tension just a little bit, because frankly, there is no need for all this... after all, we all want the exact same thing, which is simply to help one another...

First of all, if it weren't for Angela Wright, this thread probably wouldn't have even been started, and many people likely would have never shared their stories, voiced their struggles, or sought out advice... If you had actually taken the time to read through everything from the very first post to this final page, you would realize how few people here were actually advocating for alternative medicine or claiming to have been cured by nothing but alternative methods alone...

One really ought to step into the shoes of people like Angela Wright, slyseal28, or Blaise... along with all the other fighters who have been present since the very beginning and have endured the absolute worst of it. Don't take this the wrong way, but there is a profound difference between being a comrade-in-arms and being a husband, a wife, a mother, a father, a brother, or a sister... and it is infinitely more difficult to witness the struggle when it is someone you live with, someone whose pain and suffering you face every single day...

When you find yourself spiraling into that realization where you see that your supposed friends are actually just adversaries, that you have to practically drag your doctors along by the sleeve just to get them to listen, and that when you’re desperate for simple, honest advice there isn't a single soul worth asking... that is when the truth finally hits home. You realize that if you don't take matters into your own hands, absolutely no one is coming to save you. This is what cancer truly is—it is a relentless battle, and it brings to life that old, tired cliché that "to live is to fight"... Once you experience that sense of injustice firsthand, you understand that no one can ever convince you of anything other than what you have discovered through your own struggle...

Therefore, those of you posting here, myself included, aren't actually split into two opposing camps; rather, most of us seem to share the same sobering realization that alternative medicine offers no real solution... It wasn't just a single opinion from Angela Wright that convinced me, but unfortunately, my own lived experience and observations. When my grandfather was passing away, they kept me at a distance, and only during those final two weeks—at both his and my insistence—was I allowed to see him, leaving me with images I shall never forget... In a relatively short span of time, a professor also insisted that I examine lung cell slides, ranging from healthy tissue to terminal stages of cancer, knowing full well that my grandfather had died from lung cancer. When you look at those slides and then recall the sight of a man slowly wasting away, you finally understand that there are no miracle cures or magic drops... once cellular destruction begins, nothing exists but actual medicine...

What this forum has truly transformed for me is the fact that when I was at my absolute lowest, Angela Wright encouraged me through her posts... and reading everything shared here has opened my eyes, teaching me to be less self-centered and giving me the confidence that my mother is fighting this the right way. Believe me, it isn’t easy watching her grow weaker by the day, even if her current test results look good. Still, no one and nothing could ever convince me that some herbal tea would help her now. Besides, she wouldn't touch it herself, as she categorically refuses anything that her conscience doesn't deem right...