Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Hannah James76 said:Dad isn't reacting anymore; he’s just making little gasping sounds now... ;( ;( ;(

Oh Hannah James76, I am so incredibly sorry. I wish I had some profound wisdom to offer or any way to actually help you through this... 😢
Just hang in there and shower him with kisses. Even if it feels like he’s stopped responding, trust me—he can still hear you and feel everything you're doing...

Angela Wright said:Oh, Hannah James76, my heart just breaks for you. I truly wish I had some profound wisdom to offer or even a small way to help... 😢
Just hang in there—keep showering him with kisses. And please, don't let it fool you if it seems like he isn't responding; he hears everything, and he feels it all deeply...

I know he can hear us. He’s been crying, though he can't find the words to say anything—he just tries to use his hand to show us what he needs... 🙂🙂🙂🙂

Hannah James76 said:I know he can hear us. He was crying, but he couldn't get any words out—he could only try to gesture with his hand to show what he needed... 🙂🙂🙂🙂

🙂😢

Angela Wright said:🙂😢

Today, he somehow mentioned that he can't just sit there and listen anymore—it’s becoming too much to bear. This damn disease... it really takes its toll, doesn't it? 😢

Hannah James76 said:Today he somehow said he can't just hear anymore, it's too much, this damn disease...😢

Hannah James76, he won't be struggling for much longer... hearing is usually one of the last senses to fade.😢
Hang in there. Comfort him. Tell him everything is okay, that it’s all going to be fine, and that he's heading to a beautiful place where those who left before him—those who love him just as much—are waiting...
I remember reading Steve Jobs' final words before he slipped into a coma: "Wow, this is amazing..." And honestly, it probably is, far removed from all the suffering found in this world. Let him go in peace. Tell him he can go, tell him you'll be alright, and he will be alright... and you all will find peace in your souls.
My heart and prayers are with your family and your dad tonight.

Angela Wright said:Hannah James76, you aren't going to be struggling for much longer... hearing is always the very last sense to fade.😢
Please, just stay close to him—comfort him. Tell him that everything is going to be okay, truly. Remind him that he’s heading toward a beautiful place, a peaceful place where those who left before him are already waiting... and they love him just as much as we do.
I was just sitting here thinking about those final words from Steve Jobs—right before he slipped away into that coma—where he supposedly whispered, "wow, this is amazing..." And honestly? It probably was. When you step away from all the noise and the sheer, overwhelming suffering of this world, maybe that’s the only thing left to feel. There is something so profound about the idea of letting go. We spend so much energy clinging, don't we? But what if we just... let him go? What if we tell him it's okay to leave in peace, that we're going to be alright, and that he doesn't need to worry about us anymore? If we could just give him that permission, he would find his peace—and in turn, wouldn't we all finally find a little bit of peace in our own souls, too?
My prayers—truly, with every ounce of my heart—are being directed toward you, your family, and your father tonight.

Thank you so much! 🙂

Hey everyone...
Sadly, I’ve ended up on this heartbreaking thread too... I used to be at all the happy events—weddings, baby showers, celebrating new parents...
Now, just like many of you, my whole world flipped upside down overnight... It’s about my dad... He’s 67... This isn't exactly uncharted territory for him, though...
About two months ago, his stomach started acting up, but we didn't jump on it right away since he's dealt with stomach issues for years, nothing major... until I noticed he was losing weight fast... I scheduled a gastroscopy for him, and they found a massive tumor in his stomach immediately—that was Nov 3rd, and we get the official report on Nov 10th...
On Sunday, Nov 4th, he calls me thinking he has a fever (which he almost never gets)... Monday morning, I call his doctor who knows about the tumor, and she tells me it’s probably just a virus and not to be lazy, so I should take him privately for blood and urine tests to confirm... His CRP was 186 and white blood cell count was high... We went to the infectious disease ward, they suspected sepsis, and by 9 PM, since we live quite far out, I had to drive him over to the Internal Medicine unit at Vinogradska Hospital... They kept him there... The next day they did an ultrasound and were already suspicious of liver metastases... On Wednesday, they begged me to get the gastroscopy results ASAP... I called them, they contacted the lab, and it came through via fax—adenocarcinoma... I wasn't surprised... My heart just sank the day before... I went to the hospital and told Dad he has cancer, just like the doctor and I agreed... I didn't say anything about the metastases... On Friday, they did a CT scan, and the radiology tech told me straight up that it's in his pancreas too... It's just awful... I took him home for the weekend... Of course, he can barely eat, no appetite, just weak... He started having pain on his right side... the liver, I guess... On Tuesday, they did a bowel passage test, and today we should finally know everything—the full results, the prognosis, if he’s even a candidate for surgery or not... In the meantime, I gave him some Imunobran—he took that, and starting today, he's on Beta glucan... Does anyone else have any advice?...
At Vinogradska, the surgeon, Dr. Zovak, is deciding if they'll even attempt surgery... Honestly, words can't describe how I'm feeling right now.....
Anyway, I just wanted to check in because I need to feel like I'm not alone in this... Things aren't great between him and Mom, and my brother lives abroad... So, it's all on me... It's not that it's hard, because my dad is my best friend and I'd stay by his side forever and do anything for him... Just like all of us would for our loved ones... I leave for work at 6 AM, rush to the hospital, stay with him until 7 PM, and then head home to the kids... The other day I ended up at Kvatric and totally blanked... How was I supposed to get to Šalat?? Total mental block....

Hang in there, we’ve got your back. You've already survived the initial shock, and once you find your footing, everything will eventually settle into place. Once you have more clarity on the situation, reach out and check in on the forums. We have Dr. Radić over there, and she’s actually quite brilliant and might be able to offer some insight. Right now, the priority is pinpointing the root cause—whether it started in the stomach, the pancreas, or maybe the gallbladder... it'll become clear. That step is absolutely critical because the treatment path changes entirely depending on where the primary issue originated.
The tricky part here is that there are metastases involved, which complicates things right from the jump, but it doesn't mean it's an impossible fight.
It's a real shame he didn't pay attention to those stomach issues earlier. So many people just push through the pain, often ignoring a Helicobacter pylori infection. If you let that thing linger long enough, it can absolutely wreck your stomach and esophagus.

Angela Wright said:Hang in there, we're all right here with you. The initial shock is over, and once you catch your breath, things will start to settle... somehow. Once you have more info, check out those medical forums. We have Dr. Radić over there who might be able to give you some actual smart advice. First thing is figuring out where this all started—maybe the stomach, thyroid, gallbladder... it'll show up. That part is huge because treatment changes completely depending on what the root cause is.
The tough part is dealing with the metastases, which makes starting treatment a bit more complicated, but it’s definitely doable.
It’s such a shame he didn't pay attention to his stomach issues earlier. So many people just push through it, and if you've got a Helicobacter pylori infection lingering for too long, it can really mess things up in your stomach and esophagus.

Yeah, exactly that... we were just waiting, thinking it was just an old ache... I had a tumor surgery eight years ago and didn't feel a thing, so we fell into that trap of thinking if it doesn't hurt, it's "ugly"... we actually tried to comfort ourselves by thinking it was a good sign that it *did* hurt...
Thanks so much for reaching out, it really means a lot... and thanks for the tip about Dr. Radić... unfortunately, you guys are the ones who really get it...

Everything changed this morning when the emergency responders arrived for my father—it was all so sudden—and they rushed him off to the hospital... He was insistent, almost desperate, about seeing a doctor immediately. He had been vomiting blood, 😢

I guess I have to join the massive crowd of people watching their loved ones suffer through something terrible. Even though the initial shock has worn off, I know there’s more heartache ahead. My dad is 56. Back on October 31st, his first lung scan showed signs of cancer. He was admitted to the hospital on November 7th, and now he can't even breathe without medication. He was always the healthiest, most energetic one among us, so this is hard. The doctors say it's small cell lung cancer—really aggressive and nasty. It doubled in size in just 14 days. There are already metastases in his kidney, adrenal glands, and brain... all in just two weeks. I honestly dread thinking about what the next 14 days will bring. They started radiation and chemotherapy today... maybe that helps a little. I don't really trust anything anymore. One day you're here, and the next, you're gone. That's just how it is, I suppose. To make things harder, I have a 5-month-old baby, and I'm noticing my milk supply is dropping, which is just devastating. My mom is also on disability and quite ill; I can't even begin to list all her diagnoses. Plus, my other child just started first grade. I feel completely torn because I have to head back to work in two months or I'll lose my job. It's just awful. A total nightmare. I realize our time on this earth is short and we all face an end, but I really didn't expect it to happen this fast. I'm trying not to cry all day long, and I still try to smile when I visit him because they won't let me show emotion because of the baby. He looks at me, just waiting for a reaction, while I secretly want to scream and cry at the top of my lungs. But I can't... it's just awful.🙂

goldenorca9 said:Well, unfortunately, I suppose I have to join this massive army of people whose loved ones are truly, deeply suffering. Even though I’ve moved past that initial paralyzing shock, I know there is still so much ugliness ahead of us. My father is 56. On October 31st, the first lung scan showed the initial signs of lung cancer. He was admitted to the hospital on November 7th, and today—just like that—he can barely breathe without medication. He was always the healthiest one among us, the most vital, the one who looked the best. Now, the doctors are calling it small cell lung carcinoma; it's incredibly aggressive and malicious. In just 14 days, it has essentially doubled in size. Metastases have already appeared in his kidney, adrenal glands, and brain... all in a mere 14 days. I am terrified to even think about what the next 14 days might bring. They started him on radiation and chemotherapy today... at least if it provides some small measure of relief. I find myself losing faith in everything. You are here today, and tomorrow, you're gone. That is the stark, heavy truth of it. To make matters more overwhelming, I have a five-month-old baby, and I'm noticing my milk supply is steadily dropping—which is devastating. Meanwhile, my mother is on disability and is quite ill; I can't even begin to list all her diagnoses. Then there's my other child, who just started first grade. I feel completely torn because I have to return to work in two months, otherwise, I'll lose my job. It's horrific. Just total horror. I understand that our time on this earth is brief and that an end awaits us all, but I truly never expected it to strike this quickly. The only reason I'm not weeping all day long is that I try to smile when I visit him, mostly because they won't let me stay too long because of the baby. He looks at me, just waiting for my reaction. And honestly? I just want to scream and cry at the top of my lungs. But I can't... It's just awful.🙂

I know how incredibly hard this is for you, but please, try to hang in there 🙂. We all have to stay strong and be there for them; that's what they need most right now. I actually went through a similar thing with my milk supply—or at least it feels that way—where I can barely pump anything, and it hits me so hard. But since my little one is a year old now, I tell myself it's okay, at least I managed to nurse for that first year...

Oh, Hannah James76, he’s only 5 months old... he won't even get to meet his grandpa. That really hurts my heart. And honestly, I think the worst part is just feeling so helpless. It’s such a terrible feeling. 🙂 Of course I'm staying right by his side; I don't really have any other choice, I guess.

goldenorca9 said:Oh, Hannah James76... she’s only five months old. She won't even get the chance to know her grandfather. It truly breaks my heart—it really does. And if I'm being honest? What hurts most is this overwhelming sense of helplessness. That crushing, absolute feeling of powerlessness... it's just devastating. 🙂 Of course I am staying by his side—honestly, what else is there left for me to do?

I know the feeling all too well... We’re going through a very similar situation over here. 😢I’m sitting here looking at this photo from my dad’s birthday back on June 2nd—we were all just so happy then, weren't we? There wasn't a single thought in our minds about the darkness waiting around the corner. It’s hard to wrap my head around how quickly things shift... just a few short months later, and my dad is already nearing the end. 😢

Hannah James76 said:I think I know how that feels... We're dealing with something pretty similar over here. 😢I’m looking at this photo from my dad's birthday back on June 2nd. We were all so happy then, and I guess we had no idea what was coming our way. It's hard to believe that just a few months later, my dad is nearing the end. 😢

I'm so sorry... I really do understand what you're going through. I'm dealing with all of this myself right now. I don't have much to offer, but I guess I'll just send some positive vibes and good luck your way.

Oh, Hannah James76 and goldenorca9... I am just so incredibly sorry. I truly get where you're coming from and can only imagine what you're going through right now... I guess I have this one little silver lining, that my little one is 3.8 years old, so they actually have some real memories of Grandpa...
goldenorca9, look, I know it’s easy for me to say, but seriously, just let the baby nurse whenever they want... let them latch onto the breast whenever they feel like it... as soon as you get a chance, just put the baby to feed, even if it's for three hours straight if that's what it takes... honestly, it'll help you feel better too...

We just got our test results back yesterday... they sent Dad home, and there's basically no chance at surgery. He’s scheduled to start chemo on November 28th (he's losing his mind right now because, seriously, what is he supposed to do for the next ten days? Just sit around and do nothing??)...
It breaks my heart to hear him in so much pain under his right ribcage... I stayed up listening to him moaning in the middle of the night...

My mother is no longer with us 🙂.

Hannah James76 said:My dad is gone 🙂

I'm sorry. 😢

🙂

Hannah James76 said:My dad passed away 🙂

Man, I'm so sorry. My condolences. 😢 😘

Hannah James76 said:My dad is gone 🙂

Hannah James76, please accept my deepest condolences😢. May God have mercy on him, dear. Since his fate was already written, take some small comfort in knowing his struggle didn't drag on forever like it does for so many others.
What can we even say, honey? Our bodies are fragile and vulnerable; sometimes we pull through, and sometimes the light just goes out. His soul is free now and in a beautiful place—right where my mom is. They’re waiting for us when our time eventually comes, watching over us until then.
Be proud of yourself; you did everything you could. Hang in there, sweetie, and let him rest in peace now.
Sending you a huge hug.🙂