Posts by Linda Baker51

And now, something completely different… I don't think a single day goes by where I don't read through your posts. Sometimes I start writing, sometimes I get halfway through, and other times I can’t even finish a single sentence before giving up. Most of you don't actually know "our story"—it started so long ago that even I can barely recall the beginning. I know I'm exhausted. Truly, bone-tired. I've had my fill of waiting, of that sudden spike of fear whenever the phone rings at some ungodly hour. I simply cannot handle the uncertainty anymore; I just can't. I am weary of everything—the fears, the hopes, the constant state of anticipation. I just want to live without this weight. I want to exist without seeing sick people or listening to the sounds of pain. It sounds dark, I know, but there are moments when I find myself wishing I didn't have to live at all, just to finally feel some peace and tranquility. I want to devote myself to my own life again. You probably think I'm being selfish, but honestly, after eight years, I feel I have earned the right to feel this way. To want my own life back, to reclaim my best years that are slipping away irrevocably. I don't feel the need to give of myself anymore, not like this. I want my youth back. Is that so terrible? Is it abnormal to want that? I want to spend my afternoons and weekends on myself, with my friends, doing things that actually bring me joy, and finding the kind of love that hasn't been part of my life since this illness arrived. I just want it all to be over, one way or another. I simply can't do it anymore. I can't carry this burden alone; I just can't. Everything feels repulsive to me now. I feel like a half-deflated balloon, lacking even the strength required to pop. And here is my biggest confession: I've started to resent her for being sick. Yes, that's it. I've even allowed myself to feel that. I know, I'm a horrible person, but I can't help it. And please, don't lecture me about how she isn't to blame, or tell me I have to stay strong. I know all of that. I am fully aware of it all, but I'm just done. I don't even have the energy to care anymore. Can you imagine?

graniteridge5 said:Could someone please suggest what actually works for a cough? My mom occasionally struggles to catch her breath because of it... I've been making her bay leaf tea with a bit of honey, but honestly, it doesn't seem to be doing much.

For my mom, simple marshmallow root tea did the trick.

vividsailor7 said:It would be best to list all of Mom's diagnoses and her current medications, along with any recent test results—specifically things like her echocardiogram, creatinine, urea, uric acid, glucose, liver enzymes (ALT, AST, GGT), electrolytes like potassium and sodium, CK, CRP, chest X-rays, or an EKG.
Also, mention specific symptoms, such as whether she needs extra pillows to sleep, if there’s any swelling in her limbs, chest discomfort, shortness of breath, and so on.

Thanks for the advice. I’ll put together a full list of her medical history and tests as soon as I have a moment.

She hasn't shown any swelling or chest pains. There is some shortness of breath, but compared to how she was before being admitted to the hospital, it seems quite minimal.

My heart goes out to everyone who has lost someone. It’s truly heartbreaking when a battle isn't won. My own mother is still fighting, though we've hit some difficult hurdles. Her oncologist hasn't moved forward with chemotherapy because her heart isn't strong enough to handle it yet. There’s a silver lining somewhere, I suppose... but honestly, we've been struggling with a persistent issue following her mastectomy and lymph node removal. Her arm is swelling again. I know lymphedema is common after those types of surgeries, but the frustrating part is that none of her doctors seem to be taking it seriously. I’m reaching out here to see if anyone has advice on how we should proceed. As part of her treatment, she’s taking John Smith to help manage fluid retention from when she was hospitalized with pulmonary edema. While the swelling in her arm subsided back then, I can see it starting to swell and redden once more. Her primary care physician hasn't offered much guidance, so we feel like we're navigating this entirely on our own. She's hesitant to take the John Smith because it causes her blood pressure to drop, which creates a real struggle since her heart medication tends to push her pressure up—it's a constant balancing act. Last year, she was referred for specialized therapies and hand massages in a Small Town, USA, but unfortunately, we didn't see much improvement. Does anyone have any suggestions?

mistybadger55 said:My mother passed away today at 5:20 PM. It was peaceful, quiet, and she didn't seem to be in much pain. I held her hand for the last two hours, though I can't say for certain if she was aware of me being there.😢😢😢

😢 I am so incredibly sorry...

Chloe Gray5 said:... We're all standing by him. I'm trying my best to be strong for Mom, but I'm only 20, and honestly, this all feels way too heavy and far too early for me to be carrying. Still, I have my faith and my hope—I have to.
Thank you for the kind words; these days have been incredibly difficult for us.

🙂 stay brave ...

Angela Wright said:And honestly, that’s really the flaw with her primary care physician, even though she actually has some truly wonderful and caring family doctors. I can't help but wonder if physicians were compensated and treated more fairly by the system (and, let's be honest, by certain patients) the way they might be "out there," maybe they’d be better motivated. That would naturally trickle down to the quality of care provided.

I couldn't agree more. It’s all just one vicious cycle built on shaky foundations. Much like other poorly managed sectors—be it education or the economy—it’s frustrating, except in this instance, we're talking about human health, which gives the whole issue a much heavier weight. Regardless, thank you once again for responding to our questions with such patience and warmth.

Angela Wright said:As I mentioned before, it can actually dampen the effectiveness of chemotherapy because it binds to those harmful free radicals produced by the drugs—the very things meant to target and destroy malignant cells. Plus, there’s always that uncertainty regarding potential contraindications or dangerous interactions when those elements collide with the chemo. To be honest, based on my own experience, I don't think the three items you listed should pose too much of an issue since they are just dietary supplements.

Thanks for getting back to me. I follow your logic regarding how these products impact chemotherapy. Just to clarify, I wasn't the author of the previous post; I was simply curious about the professional medical consensus on these types of supplements.

I started posting in this thread because my mother has been diagnosed with cancer three times since 2004. I've been living in this reality for a long time now, which means I spend a great deal of time researching and reflecting. You hit the nail on the head regarding doctors; they rarely offer nutritional advice unless specifically asked. It feels as though the entire system is laser-focused on chemotherapy, cytotoxic drugs, and radiation. While I certainly don't dispute that those are the heavy hitters, I truly believe we should be looking at the body as a whole system and paying much closer attention to the immune system. I understand if you say that isn't strictly an oncologist's job, but that's exactly what's missing: genuine collaboration. I'm not talking about a formal medical board, but rather a better dialogue between primary care physicians and specialists.

In all these years, no one ever suggested to my mother, "Let's check your bloodwork to see where you stand with vitamins and minerals." Not during treatment, not after surgery, not even following radiation. There was never a suggestion to help detoxify the system or even to address her weight management. I have immense respect for our doctors, but I can't help feeling that a holistic approach to the patient is sorely lacking. You really notice the difference when you encounter a physician who spent part of their career practicing abroad. You can sense that different philosophy—that genuine focus on the person as a whole. They always seem to have the time to talk through everything, including nutrition.

vividsailor7 said:As for point number two, I wouldn't recommend applying that approach.

Could you please elaborate on why you feel that way?

I find myself reading through these posts every single day... and every time, I’m genuinely struck by the sheer strength and resilience that people carry within them. I just wanted to stop by and say hello to 🙂

Laura Campbell said:... Please, I need advice, perspectives—what comes next? Will she be able to withstand two surgeries, not to mention the chemotherapy? Thank you all so much on behalf of our entire family!!! We wish you all the very best and plenty of health and strength in your own ongoing battles!!!

🙂 I’m certainly no doctor, but isn't it reasonable to assume this second cancer is the primary one? I mean, the one that didn't originate as a metastasis from the lungs. In my wife's case, during her third diagnosis, they identified a secondary cancer in the abdominal area and a primary one in the ovaries and bladder.

Oh goodness, dear ones, I honestly don't know what to tell you. I don't even know what I could say to myself anymore and still maintain my sanity. I've reached a point where I'm not even sure where to draw my energy from.

Regarding the surgery and chemo—I don't think anyone can give you a definitive answer. But truthfully, I find myself wrestling with the same questions: why do we take patients who are already so weakened and subject them to more cutting and then blast them with chemicals and radiation? 🤷

Hang in there...

Angela Wright said:I’d also suggest taking Mom straight to an emergency oncology clinic. They can evaluate her there and will likely hospitalize her, because that pleural effusion needs to be drained via puncture, and she really needs oxygen therapy. Normally, that would fall under the oncologist's purview, but you’ll probably end up waiting forever for some "multidisciplinary team" to reach a consensus at 😳, so it might be better to bypass the bureaucracy. Be assertive, be direct with what you need, and don't back down even an inch!

Thanks for the input. Mom has actually already gone through hospitalization, the puncture, and having the fluid measured. On top of the medications she’s been on for years to manage her cancer and diabetes, she’s now taking daily diuretics, heart medication, and blood pressure pills. It’s becoming painfully clear that every subsequent round of chemo seems to do more harm than good. I honestly don't understand a medical process where they deliberately compromise a patient's overall stability with treatments that aren't even effective anymore. Fortunately, she isn't in pain, and as long as we hold off on the treatments, she’s actually living a relatively "normal" life. Sometimes I get the feeling they're using her case as a research project.

Could someone please tell me what happens if a patient decides to refuse chemotherapy? Does their oncologist continue to manage their care, or does all medical supervision simply stop?

To give some context, after years of fighting this—dealing with three different carcinomas and undergoing 24 rounds of chemo plus months of radiation since 2004—my mother’s heart has started to fail, and she's dealing with fluid buildup in her lungs. She has become incredibly frail. She never fully recovered from her last round of chemo, yet her oncologist is still pushing for more treatment. When my mother voiced her opposition, the oncologist mentioned that the medical board would make the final call. Interestingly, after her last cycle ended, they didn't even bother following up with scans or tumor markers. My mother ended up hospitalized due to her heart condition, and her results show significant damage and shadows. Despite all of this, the medical board has still decided to proceed with the treatments.

dustybadger81 said:I haven't been active on this forum for a while... but I wanted to reach out and let you know that my second mother lost her battle after a month and a half of fighting, and she passed away last week. The shock hasn't worn off yet; I have thousands of questions without answers, and what scares me most are the ones that will surface later, once the reality truly sinks in that she's gone. I don't quite know how to put it into words, other than: it was too sudden, too fast, just way too fast.....

This is absolutely devastating. I am so, so incredibly sorry... there aren't enough words to express how much my heart goes out to you... I'm just shaken by the news.

dustybadger81 said:I just want to know if there's anything we can actually do. Is there even any reason to hope? My mom is still relatively young, only in her early forties, and it breaks my heart to see her like this when I feel so helpless to help her.

Your post really struck a chord with me, and not in a good way. I wish I could offer you some profound insight or a silver lining, but honestly, there isn't one. All I can tell you is what I suspect you've already heard a thousand times: you have to stay strong, keep your head up, and try to ease your mother's burden through your presence and your love.

electricwolf19 said:.... Perhaps the Easter break and the arrival of spring might help her feel a bit better.

I wasn't sure if you mentioned whether your mom is losing weight, but I can see she looks incredibly frail. My own mother was put on Glucerna, which is a complete nutritional supplement specifically designed for people managing high blood sugar levels. It’s produced by Abbott, and I noticed they actually offer nutritional options for those without diabetes as well. It might be worth asking her doctor about a prescription for something similar to help strengthen her system. Wishing you all the best...

electricwolf19 said:She completed five cycles of chemotherapy and 25 radiation treatments. She lost quite a bit of weight in the process, but she’s managed to stabilize her weight now and has a very healthy appetite. After each of the first four chemo cycles, she would bounce back within a week and return to her normal routine. However, after this fifth (final) cycle, she just hasn't been able to recover. It’s already been six weeks since the therapy ended, and she’s still stuck in bed. She’s constantly exhausted, sleepy, and finds walking incredibly difficult. It feels like her legs simply won't support her; she’s currently using a walker and has to grab onto walls and doorframes just to get around because she tires out so quickly. Despite everything, her appetite is good (though nothing seems to be sticking), and she can sleep at any time. We were told it takes about six weeks for the cytostatic drugs to clear the system, and that the best thing we can do right now is focus on nutrition—just eating, eating, and eating. Since that last round of chemo, she’s also having trouble with her balance, which makes me wonder if the radiation played a role, even though they only targeted the remaining lymph nodes near the stomach and armpit area.

Dear electricwolf19, I read your post and wanted to reach out because my mother is going through a very similar situation. This is actually the third time in eight years that she’s been diagnosed with cancer. Back in 2005, it was one breast; she went through 12 rounds of chemo and two months of radiation. Then in 2009, it was the other breast, involving 6 rounds of chemo and two months of radiation.

Last spring, she started losing weight rapidly and began experiencing incontinence. After being admitted to the hospital, tests revealed both primary and secondary carcinomas in the ovarian and bladder areas, as well as the abdomen.

She underwent five cycles of chemotherapy, which she actually tolerated much better than her previous surgeries, vomiting, and nausea. With this specific round, she didn't suffer from nausea and would usually recover within two or three days. However, that sixth and final cycle really took its toll on her. She just hasn't been able to pull herself out of it. She struggles to breathe, can't walk, and is perpetually exhausted. The doctors didn't seem to react much at first; they just kept sending her for more scans and tests. It wasn't until I had to physically lead her into the doctor's office because she couldn't walk on her own that I finally explained the severity of what was happening. Only then did they prescribe antibiotics, which honestly left me speechless. Later, they sent her for lung imaging because I pointed out that she sounded like she had bronchitis and was breathing at half capacity. After the lung scan, they saw fluid buildup in the lower section, so they performed a puncture. Fortunately, they didn't find malignant cells—they drained about a quart of fluid.

But since she still isn't recovering, they are now sending her for bone scans because they suspect metastasis might have spread to the bones. They aren't entirely certain yet, as the imaging shows a fissure in the spine that could be from osteoporosis or metastases. It’s frustrating that no one thought to focus on rebuilding her immune system or providing nutritional supplements during her recovery. But I'm not here to critique our medical system or the doctors. I just wanted to share our story in case it offers you some perspective.

stormynomad20 said:My mother passed away today. Even though I’ve never been much of a believer, I truly hope her soul has found some peace.

Dear stormynomad20, how are you holding up?

This is easily one of my all-time favorites. I’ve always had a soft spot for fairy tales—the kind meant for adults, of course. The production design and costume work are just breathtakingly good. And the little girl? She is simply... darling...

To put it simply: absolutely NOT.