Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Angela Wright said:ivona, I just can't help but soften up vividsailor7's typical blunt, doctor-style response a little bit (vividsailor7, don't get mad at me, but it really is true 🙂 ). His directness, whether he realizes it or not, tends to dismiss people rather than offering any shred of hope—which is exactly what patients are desperately searching for when they talk to a physician.

Look, yes, lung Carcinoma is incredibly nasty. Statistically speaking, the prognosis looks pretty grim, especially once you're dealing with metastases... BUT...

it doesn't always work out that way, even when there are metastases present.

When we look at statistics—especially for something as common as lung Carcinoma—those numbers are pulled from massive patient pools. That statistical curve has a median, sure, but it also has two distinct ends. On the left side, you have those who succumb quite early, and on the right side, you have those who are still fighting. That group on the right might be much smaller than the average, but they are absolutely not negligible. Nobody can say with 100% certainty that someone won't end up on that right side of the curve. And that is precisely why we treat metastatic disease! You have to push forward, fight, and aim for that right-hand side of the graph!

Everything you wrote is valid, I just prefer to call it reality. Of course, any outcome is possible.
That being said, I actually think that direct approach is best. Obviously, you shouldn't just walk in and say, "Good morning, your father has liver cancer," and then immediately bolt out of the room. Empathy is vital, obviously, but everything has its limits.

Greetings.
I am looking for some perspective regarding the prognosis when colorectal carcinoma, following an initial surgery, a stoma, and several rounds of chemotherapy, has progressed to metastasize in the lungs and liver.
This concerns my father-in-law. I don't have his specific lab results on hand, but this is the gist of the situation based on a recent PET scan. He currently lives near a small town in the Midwest and has been receiving treatment at a local regional hospital, but his oncologist is now referring him to Dubrava to consult with a surgeon to determine if those metastases can be surgically addressed.
Beyond the outlook itself, I am also wondering why Dubrava was specifically recommended—is such a referral truly justified in a case like this?
Many thanks.

Kimberly Edwards38 said:Hi there.
I’m looking for some insight regarding prognosis. We’re dealing with colorectal carcinoma. He’s already undergone surgery, had a colostomy, and finished several rounds of chemo, but now it’s metastasized to the lungs and liver.
It’s my father-in-law. I don't have his medical reports right in front of me, but this is the gist of what we learned from the PET scan. He lives near Baton Rouge and was being treated at a local hospital, but now his oncologist is referring him to Dubrava to see a surgeon about whether they can operate on those metastases.
Beyond just the outlook, I want to know why Dubrava was specifically recommended—is that actually the right move?
Thanks so much.

Look, to give you any kind of meaningful answer, we need a hell of a lot more data than this.

vividsailor7 said:Everything you said holds water; I just prefer to call it reality. Obviously, anything can happen.
Personally, I think being direct is the best way to handle it. You obviously shouldn't just walk in and say, "Hey, your dad has liver cancer," and then bolt out of the room. You need empathy, sure, but there’s such a thing as going too far.

vividsailor7, I'm convinced your colleagues said the exact same things you did. People come to places like this because they want that slightly expanded narrative—the one that offers a glimmer of hope. You have to admit, it isn't unrealistic or impossible regardless of what the statistics say; it fundamentally shifts the psychological landscape, which is what ultimately drives the whole situation.

Kimberly Edwards38 said:Hey there.
I'm looking for some insight here—what kind of prognosis are we talking about when someone deals with colon cancer that has already spread to the lungs and liver, even after they've gone through surgery, had a stoma placed, and finished a few rounds of chemo?
So, here’s the deal with my father-in-law. I don't have his lab results handy right now, but I can give you the gist of what's happening following his PET scan. He lives out near Slidell, Louisiana, and has been receiving treatment at the local hospital there, but now his oncologist is referring him to the Mayo Clinic to see a surgeon. They need to determine if they can move forward with surgery to address those metastases.
Beyond just the prognosis, I'm trying to wrap my head around why Dubrava was specifically recommended. Is there actually a solid reason behind that choice, or is it just one of those things?
Thanks a lot.

Dealing with metastatic disease is a massive hurdle in its own right. When things reach this stage, the prognosis naturally takes a hit because you're no longer just fighting a single localized issue—you're facing a much more complex, systemic battle that’s inherently harder to manage.

In the US, we've actually rolled out targeted therapy options for treating metastatic colorectal cancer. Avastin i/ili Erbitux If the K-RAS test on the tumor tissue comes back as wild type—meaning that specific mutation isn't present and the drug actually has something to target—which one is indicated?

I need to point out one crucial moment.It’s happened quite a few times where people who had their metastases surgically removed were flat-out denied these medications. In my opinion, it comes down to pure, cold-blooded bureaucracy—just a way for insurance companies to save a buck because of some loophole in the regulations. The rules state these drugs are intended for metastatic diseases, but they fail to specify whether that applies to patients who have already had those metastases successfully cleared through surgery. From a strictly medical standpoint, though... These people are dealing with metastatic disease. Both of these drugs are incredibly pricey, yet they sit right there on the hospital formulary. It’s exactly why they cut corners on patient care—it's unjustifiable.
Keep this in mind: when you're looking into treatment options, make sure they run a K-RAS test before starting anything like Erbitux. It’s non-negotiable.

Sam Johnson7 said:Dear Sanja...

We all know about ginger—we’ve been drinking it since the very first round of chemo. In fact, the staff at our oncology ward were actually the ones who suggested we start using it right away.
I'll definitely give the rest a listen.

I am so sorry you're going through this; it really isn't easy. I’m doing my absolute best to stay by her side and be the strong one for her, but what happened yesterday was just heartbreaking to witness. I didn't let her see how much it affected me—I just held her hand through the whole thing—but man, it was unexpected. We were warned about nausea, but nothing prepared us for this.
I suppose that was actually to be expected.

Angela Wright said:Crushed flaxseeds soaked in warm water for half an hour (I just drink the strained liquid), some air-popped popcorn—you can pick up those little machines pretty cheap—and a Coca-Cola.
.

Alright, looks like we’re on the right track then. He's sipping on some ginger tea, snacking on popcorn, and even having a couple of sips of Coke. As for the oil—it's noted! Thanks. 🙂

She's been taking Reglan up until now, but honestly, it hasn't been doing much for her. Now, they've recommended Ondansetron—I think that's how you spell it, anyway.
Normabel is taking her meds, and she took some Peptoran yesterday, which really helped settle things down. She took it a bit earlier this evening, and thankfully, we didn't see a repeat of yesterday's struggle. She did do a little vomiting, but she's sleeping soundly now and everything seems fine.

vividsailor7 said:What kind of treatment is being administered?
As a first step, you can ask your primary care physician for a prescription for Regan.

She finished four cycles of the AC protocol as part of her adjuvant treatment. We met with the oncologist today to go over the latest tumor marker results. Her CEA was at 5.32 before chemo started, but after the fourth cycle, it has risen to 6.36.
My CA 15-3 went from 11.07 up to 15.3.

Based on these latest results—specifically the heart damage flagged by the ultrasound—and all that nausea he's been dealing with, his oncologist suggested switching from the AC protocol to an ACT protocol using Taxol. It’s not a done deal yet, though.

vividsailor7 said:To provide any meaningful insight, I would require a significantly more robust set of data points.

I am fully aware of that, but I was asking purely for informational purposes. I don't have the lab results on hand right now—if I did, I certainly would have attached them. He is scheduled to visit his surgeon in New York next week, so I will attempt to get copies of those reports and then follow up with a more informed question.
In any case, thank you.

Angela Wright said:Metastatic disease is an inherently difficult circumstance; in that regard, the prognosis worsens because the condition has become more complex and increasingly harder to manage.

For metastatic colorectal carcinomas here in the States, we utilize targeted therapies involving Avastin and/or Erbitux. The latter is indicated specifically if the K-RAS testing of the tumor tissue reveals a wild-type cell structure, which is where this drug has demonstrated its efficacy.

I must highlight one critical point—there have been instances where patients who underwent surgery to remove metastases were denied these specific medications. In my personal opinion, this happens due to purely pragmatic, bureaucratic reasons aimed at cutting costs. There appears to be a loophole in the regulations stating these drugs are for "metastatic disease," yet it isn't clearly defined whether that applies to patients whose metastases have already been surgically removed—even though, from a strictly medical standpoint, those individuals still have metastatic disease. Both drugs are incredibly expensive items on the hospital formulary, and consequently, they cut corners on people, which is entirely unjustifiable.
Keep this in mind and fight for the therapy; ensure that a K-RAS test is performed to qualify for Erbitux!

Thank you very much for the response, even though I realize I haven't provided any concrete data. I will absolutely pass along the information regarding the drug testing.
It hasn't even been decided yet if he will proceed with surgery. They are supposed to make that determination at the Mayo Clinic next week.
Though... does the surgery even make sense at this stage?
Mr. Zapavo hasn't changed his behavior or his diet one bit since he fell ill, despite my attempts to suggest things based on medical literature. However, they simply stick to whatever the doctor dictates... he goes to chemo, and that's that. Actually, they have actually suspended his treatment momentarily until they see what the specialists in New York decide.

Kimberly Edwards38 said:z

I really appreciate the response, even though I know I don't have any hard data to work with right now. I'll definitely pass along what you said regarding the drug testing.
It’s still up in the air whether he'll undergo surgery or not. They're supposed to make that call at Mayo Clinic next week.
But honestly... does the surgery even make sense?
Mr. Zapavo hasn't changed his habits or his diet one bit since getting sick, despite my attempts to suggest things I've read in the literature. They just stick strictly to whatever the doctor dictates—he goes for chemo, and that's the end of it. Actually, they've actually paused his treatment for the moment until we see what the specialists in New York decide.

Surgery absolutely makes sense if there's actually something physical that can be removed. Regardless of the outcome, continuing oncological treatment is non-negotiable; the real question is whether they'll go with Avastin and/or Erbitux, or if they take a more pragmatic, bureaucratic approach—assuming surgery happens—and opt for a different therapy altogether.
As for lifestyle changes and attitudes, that's a deeply personal matter. From what I've seen, blindly following every single command from a doctor isn't always the best path, but if someone chooses to live their life a certain way, you have to accept that choice and respect it.

Angela Wright said:Surgery makes perfect sense, provided there is actually something tangible that can be surgically removed. Regardless of the outcome, continuing oncological treatment is non-negotiable; the only variable is whether they proceed with Avastin and/or Erbitux, or if they adopt a more pragmatic, bureaucratic stance by opting for an alternative therapy instead.
As for lifestyle changes and personal attitudes, we are talking about something deeply intimate. From my experience, blindly following every single instruction a doctor hands down is rarely the best path, but if these shifts are a matter of personal choice for the patient, then we have to respect that autonomy.

Ultimately, how much someone engages with their own illness is entirely up to them. I respect his decision-making process.
If surgery is recommended, he will undoubtedly accept it. At that point, my only advice would be to insist that his oncologist performs the necessary testing and considers these specific medications.

Mom came back from the city last night after her chemo session. Looking at her medical history, I see they added Setronon via IV alongside the TH, though she’s still taking her regular Reglan three times a day before meals. She uses Tramadol for the pain, too. It looks like they swapped Zypantola for Nexium? I called her oncologist, and he mentioned she needs to come in for a "full workup" at the end of the month, so we'll just have to see what happens then (her records show they want another abdominal ultrasound and a chest X-ray). Honestly, she seemed to be struggling a bit more with her breathing this morning, so I guess I'm worried she might be retaining fluid again...

vividsailor7 said:Everything you said is true, though I suppose I’d just call it reality. Of course, any outcome is possible.
I guess the best way is a direct approach, but obviously you shouldn't just walk in and say, "Hi, your father has liver cancer," and then bolt out of the room. You need empathy, I guess, but there has to be a limit.

I had a similar experience with her doctor in Miami. She basically told me right at the door: "Your mother's tumor markers are extremely high, she has a 7x4 cm malignant tumor in her right lung, we're waiting on the CT scan to see if it spread to the bone, then I'll let you know if she's heading to Mayo Clinic for surgery or chemo, I have to go, I'm in a huge rush!" And then she just left me standing there in total shock... Thank Bog that not all doctors are like that!!!

I’ve mentioned before that my dad has small cell lung cancer. So far, he’s gone through two rounds of chemo—which he handled pretty well—plus 25 radiation sessions. On the very last day of radiation, he noticed something, I guess. He felt a lump on his neck, so they did a biopsy immediately and confirmed it was a lymph node metastasis. After that, he started a third, more aggressive round of chemo. He struggled with this one a bit more; by the second day, he was vomiting and couldn't keep any food or water down. By the third day, things seemed okay again.
Now, about that metastasis... Honestly, I'm pretty angry. He spent a month and a half at a facility in Jordanovac, and yet he was the one who actually found the lump himself. It makes me worry—who knows if that's the only spot? They haven't sent him for any extensive follow-up testing. I wonder if a PET scan would help pinpoint exactly where everything has spread. It just doesn't make sense to me that they'd just leave it alone after finding a metastasis. He’s heading back to the city in three weeks for more tests and his fourth round of chemo.
There's also the matter that, up until now, the doctor has been really positive. Everything seemed to be going great. After the first round of chemo, it didn't seem to be spreading anymore, and after the second round and about ten radiation sessions, when they re-checked everything, she even told us it had shrunk slightly. So how does this happen all of a sudden? I mean, I realize with small cell it can change overnight, but this really caught us off guard. Does this metastasis mean it's headed toward the brain, or is there some way to stop it or at least slow it down?

Nancy Lee said:I’ve already mentioned that my dad has small cell. So far, he’s finished two rounds of chemo—which he handled pretty well—and 25 radiation sessions. On the very last day of radiation, he actually felt something; he noticed a lump on his neck, and they immediately did a biopsy and confirmed it was a lymph node metastasis. After that, he started a third, more aggressive round of chemo. He struggled with this one a bit more—he was vomiting and couldn't eat or drink anything on the second day—but by the third day, he was doing okay again.
Now, about this metastasis... I'm honestly furious. He spent a month and a half bedridden at a clinic in Jordanovac, and in the end, he was the one who actually caught the lump himself. Now I’m spiraling, wondering if that's the only spot. They haven't sent him off for any extensive follow-up imaging. Would a PET scan help pinpoint exactly how much and where it has spread? It makes no sense to me that they just left things as they were after discovering a metastasis. He’s heading back to the city in three weeks for more tests and his fourth round of chemo.
And another thing: up until now, the doctor has been incredibly positive. Everything seemed to be going so well. After the first chemo, there was no further spread, and after the second round and about ten sessions of radiation, when they re-checked everything, she even told me things had shrunk a little. So how does this happen out of nowhere? I know with small cell everything can change in an instant, but this has completely blindsided us. Does this metastasis mean it's heading toward his brain, or can we still somehow stop it or at least slow it down?

Hang in there, Lili. With this diagnosis, things usually just slow down rather than stop entirely.😢
I don't even know what else to tell you; you pretty much see the whole picture yourself. There is a standard treatment protocol, and since this new site—this new metastasis—has appeared, they decided the previous therapy resulted in a relapse. Consequently, they've moved him to a second line of treatment. Even if they had done a PET scan and found more spots, their move would likely be the same; he would have received this same continuation of therapy regardless.
That said, please sit down and talk everything through with the doctor, including those scans and what specifically they might reveal.
As for this idea of it "heading" toward the brain, it doesn't really work like that. Cancer cells are circulating in the bloodstream, so a metastasis can pop up anywhere. It doesn't travel like a bus hitting specific stops along a route. This is a systemic issue happening at a cellular level throughout the entire body.
Let's just hope this new approach yields better results and that things can stabilize and stay quiet for as long as possible.

Hey there,

Until a few days ago, I didn't even know my actual diagnosis, so I've been obsessively reading everything I can get my hands on. I think I saw a post once—maybe on some patient advocacy forum, I can't find it anymore—about someone with an inoperable lung tumor where the reason it couldn't be operated on was because of adrenal metastases. I can't find that thread now, so I'm just typing this out from memory while my head is spinning with all this info. Anyway, I remember seeing a doctor mention that those things might not actually be metastases, but honestly, I can't recall exactly what he said or how that case ended up turning out.

Long story short, I have non-small cell carcinoma that’s considered inoperable due to an adrenal metastasis. This thing was flagged based on a CT scan, but they haven't done a biopsy or any cytological confirmation yet.

Looking at that first story and this:

"Adrenal gland metastases are relatively common (about 33%) in patients with lung cancer. Any suspicious tumor mass found during diagnostics should be checked via biopsy to rule out the frequent possibility of a benign growth."
taken from http://webmd.com/lung-cancer-guide...non-small-cell/

I'm wondering, what are the odds that this is actually a benign growth instead of a metastasis? And who should I even talk to about getting this verified—should I push my pulmonologist, or is this something my oncologist will handle once I finally see them?

vividdriver26 said:Respectful greetings, everyone.

Until a few days ago, I didn't have a concrete diagnosis, so I’ve been frantically reading everything under the sun. I remember seeing something—somewhere on an American patient advocacy forum, though I can't track down the specific thread now—about a case where someone was told they had an inoperable lung tumor because of metastases in the adrenal glands. As I said, I can't find that exact post, so I'm writing this from memory while my head is spinning with all this information. However, I did come across a doctor who suggested those might not actually be metastases. Honestly, my mind is such a blur right now that I can't even recall exactly what the doctor proposed as an alternative, nor how that specific case turned out.

The bottom line is this: I have non-small cell carcinoma, which is considered inoperable due to what is being called an adrenal metastasis. This "metastasis" was identified based on a CT scan, but no biopsy or cytological confirmation has been performed yet.

Given that first story and this:

"Adrenal gland metastases are relatively common (33%) in patients with lung cancer. Any suspicious tumor mass identified during diagnostic procedures should undergo a biopsy to rule out the frequent possibility of a benign growth."
sourced from http://webmd.com/lung-cancer-guide...non-small-cell/

What I really want to know is: what are the actual odds that this is just a benign growth rather than a metastasis? And more importantly, who should I be pushing to get this verified? Should I be badgering my pulmonologist, or is this strictly the responsibility of the oncologist I'm scheduled to see next?

First and foremost, you need to determine if those masses are showing any hormonal activity.
Either an oncologist or an endocrinologist can handle that.

Hey everyone—it’s been a minute since I last posted, but luckily I’ve got some awesome news to share 🙂. My dad is finally turning a corner. After everything with the two amputations and all that radiation, he's getting stronger by the day. The cancer is in remission, his blood clotting levels have finally stabilized, and he’s actually starting to eat again. His pressure sores and wounds are almost healed up too—once they close, he can head back in to get those clots cleared out from his other leg. Once that's sorted, it’ll just be the usual grind of rehab, exercises, and getting used to walking with a walker.
I’m honestly just so relieved that things are finally clicking into place and that he pulled through despite what the doctors said would happen.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to hold onto hope even when everyone else says it’s over. You really have to believe in our loved ones—they can surprise you when you least expect it.
Sending so much strength and courage to all of you. 🙂

Chloe Gray5 said:Hey everyone, I haven't posted in a while, but luckily I have some great news to share 🙂. My dad is recovering; after two amputations and daily radiation, he's getting better every single day. The cancer has retreated, his prothrombin time is finally stabilizing, he's eating again, and he's getting stronger by the hour. His pressure sores and wounds are almost closed, and once they heal, they'll go in to clear out those clots in his other leg. Once that's settled, it's just pure recovery ahead—physical therapy and getting him back on his feet with a walker.
I am just so incredibly happy that everything is finally falling into place and that he survived everything they said he wouldn't.

And I also wanted to say that you have to keep believing and holding onto hope, even when everyone else is telling you it's over! You have to believe in our loved ones because they can truly surprise us when we least expect it.
Sending strength, courage, and faith to all of you. 🙂

Man, I was actually wondering how you guys were doing, but I didn't want to be intrusive and ask. I am seriously so glad to hear things are looking up. Your dad is a total warrior 🙂 He’ll be around for a long time and will probably spend that time driving you crazy just like always 😉

Hey everyone!
So, here’s the deal: I’ve been dealing with malignant melanoma, specifically Clark / Breslow III. They cut out the mole, then had to go back in for a second surgery to widen the margins, taking out quite a bit of tissue along with two lymph nodes under my armpit. So far, the results look okay—no radiation or chemo yet. It feels like I might have dodged a bullet, but hey, only time will tell. I’m just hoping for the best. Overall, I feel pretty solid, both physically and mentally, and I’m actually back at work now. What’s eating at me, though, is the environment. There are certain people at the office who constantly remind me of my illness on a daily basis. I’ve tuned most of them out, but there’s this one high-ranking person who is obsessively fixated on my health. She jumps at every single chance to lecture me about every tiny detail of my condition. Look, I’m a fighter, and I’m a person of faith. I know Bog has been watching over me from the start, because honestly, it’s a total mystery to me how I’m handling all of this with such insane ease. Thank Him for that.
But seriously, this person’s constant "soul-searching" and meddling is starting to get under my skin. She’s basically poking at my wounds by involving herself in something that is absolutely none of her business. I’ve realized lately how much it’s messing with my head; after her little monologues, I’m just totally scattered. It’s time for me to push back a bit more firmly and politely tell her to "back off." It’s a tricky situation because I used to report directly to her before I got sick, and I actually requested a transfer because my old role was way too stressful—something I definitely can't handle while dealing with this illness. Plus, once I’m fully recovered, there’s a real chance I might end up back in that same position. So, how do I pull off this "maneuver" without making it messy or unprofessional?
Thanks for any advice,
Best, Chloe Nguyen3.

Chloe Nguyen3 said:Hey everyone!
Here’s the short version: I’m dealing with malignant melanoma, Clark / Breslow III. They removed the mole, then had to go back in for a second surgery to widen the margins and clear out more tissue, including taking two lymph nodes from under my armpit. So far, the results look okay—I haven't had radiation or chemo yet. It seems like I pulled through, but only time will tell. I’m hoping for the best. All in all, I feel physically and mentally stable. I’ve even headed back to work. What’s actually eating at me is the environment—specifically, certain people at the office who remind me of my illness on a daily basis. I’ve tuned out most of them, but there’s this one high-ranking individual who is obsessed with my health status. She jumps at every single opportunity to lecture me about every tiny detail of my medical condition. Look, I’m a fighter, and I’m a person of faith; I know God has been protecting me from the very start, because honestly, it’s a mystery to me how I’m navigating all of this with such incredible ease. Thank Him.
But seriously, I’m starting to get fed up with this person’s "soul-searching" interference, where she constantly tries to "wound" me by meddling in things that aren't her business. I’ve realized it’s really starting to get to me, and after her monologues, I find myself feeling totally scattered. It’s time to push back a little harder and politely tell her to "back off." It’s a delicate situation because this is someone I used to report to before I got sick, and since I took an extended medical leave, I requested a transfer because that specific role was incredibly stressful—something that definitely doesn't help while fighting this disease. This means there's a real possibility that once I'm fully recovered, I might end up back in that same position. So, how do I perform this "surgery" without making a mess or being unnecessarily harsh?
Thanks for any suggestions,
Best, Chloe Nguyen3.

Stay classy. Next time she starts up, just explain that you’re doing well now and that your doctor’s advice is to focus on living life rather than dwelling on the past, because extra stress is literally bad for your recovery. Thank her sincerely for her support and concern, then ask for her understanding and express a desire to move on to more positive topics. Frame it as a lesson learned from your own experience: that it’s vital to live every day to the fullest and enjoy the little things in life.

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?