Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Once the pathology report on the removed tissue comes back, she'll finally have a clear roadmap for what happens next. My guess is that her current diagnosis is just based on the initial needle biopsy, which can often be a different story once they actually get a look at the physical tissue under a microscope. You definitely have every right to expect some real answers.

replying to Edward Thompson11: Seriously, ask the doctor about alternatives! When my mom was going through this, she wasn't even allowed to touch green tea or certain citrus fruits. Multiple myeloma isn't exactly a common type of "beast," so most people don't know the first thing about it. They'll likely put her on Dexamethasone, which is a corticosteroid that usually helps, but man, the side effects can be wild—swelling is a big one. My mom’s face got so swollen at one point that her lips looked almost dark; it looks pretty strange, but it wasn't dangerous. The bigger issue with long-term steroid use, though, is how much it spikes your blood sugar levels. A bit of friendly advice: if you don't trust your primary care physician, switch doctors. Keep looking until you find someone that both you and, more importantly, your mom actually feel comfortable with. (I know I probably sound a bit too "big city" about this—we have tons of GPs to choose from here in Washington, D.C.—but seriously, try it.) As for infections, they're a constant side effect of Multiple myeloma, especially urinary tract infections. My mom was basically living on Klavocin: she’d take one round, the tests would come back clear, and then a month later, the bacteria would be right back in her bladder. I'm wishing you so much strength. And please, believe me when I say you aren't alone in this mess—there were four of us dealing with it, and even now, nearly a year after my mom passed, I'm only just starting to process everything.
I sent you a private message

Hey there, it's me again 🙂

So, we just had our second CT scan, and it turns out things are regressing even further. Honestly, the doctor is pretty stoked about it. We're looking at a partial remission right now, but we'll be doing a PET scan in three weeks to see if we can officially call it a complete remission. Fingers crossed, I guess!

Angela Wright said:Once the pathology report on the excised tissue comes back, they'll finally know exactly what they're dealing with and how to proceed. I assume this initial diagnosis was just based on the biopsy, and we all know how often those can differ from the actual surgical pathology. You certainly have every right to expect some clarity.

My mother didn't mention anything about a biopsy. 🤷
It sounds promising over the phone. My congestion cleared up and my throat stopped hurting, so I’m planning to go see her this Sunday.

Edward Thompson11 said:She’s been diagnosed with multiple myeloma... About 40 days ago, she ended up in the hospital because of a pathological fracture in her spine. She’s had five rounds of radiation and started chemo this Monday, which should run for three cycles before they move on to a stem cell transplant. She’s stuck in bed the whole time, can't even move, since the tumor basically wrecked her vertebrae. The public hospital wouldn't agree to surgery, so I found a private clinic where they might be able to do spinal surgery in about ten days just so she can walk again, though it's a massive undertaking given where the tumor is located. They might discharge her from the state facility the day after tomorrow. Mom is hanging in there. I don't want to talk about prognoses, but they say you can live with this for decades... Mom is 59.

People keep pushing alternative stuff on me, but I just don't feel like I can take on that kind of responsibility. Some friends are insisting she needs to boost her system with homeopathic remedies and immune support. The doctors at the hospital aren't having any of it—they actually said it could interfere with the chemo. I'm lost. It feels like the logical move to just trust the doctors, especially now that the chemo has already kicked off. But honestly, some days they're willing to chat, and other days they act like you're invisible. Today is one of those "invisible" days and it sucks. Anyone got any actual, sensible advice? Thanks, guys.

Just hang tight until the chemo and radiation are done.
Once both of those are out of the way, things should start looking up.
Honestly, just listen to the doctors and tell everyone else to shove their unsolicited advice. It's easy for people to play expert when they aren't the ones dealing with the mess.

totally natural chestnut honey and honey-based products like honey blends,

Dexamethasone, like tanja5555 mentioned, spikes blood sugar, so she really needs to watch the honey intake.
Other stories regarding this illness on this forum.

Edward Thompson11 said:she just finished five rounds of radiation and starts chemo this Monday. That’s supposed to be three cycles total before she moves on to a stem cell transplant.

Since you brought up the stem cell thing, you better make sure Mom gets her dental work checked out and fixes any bad teeth while there's still time.
Once they prep her for the transplant, if those teeth aren't sorted, the doctors at the Mayo Clinic are just gonna pull anything that looks sketchy.

Hey everyone...
I really don't want cancer to be the only thing happening in my life, so I finally decided to get brave at fifty and sign up for this forum..
If I mess anything up, just blame my youth, alright?🙂
Honestly, I’m looking forward to the connection—the laughs, the rage, and the tears. It's a pretty solid combination if you ask me.

Hey everyone, my dear friends,

My mom is in the hospital right now dealing with liver cirrhosis, but things just took a really scary turn because she had some abdominal bleeding, and honestly, she’s in pretty critical condition... I mean, the doctors aren't even giving her much of a chance at this point. It's just hitting me so hard, you know? I don't even know how I'm supposed to process any of this or keep my head above water... I can barely even function.
Please, if you could just keep us in your thoughts or send some strength our way, I'd really appreciate it. 😢

Amy Torres4 said:Listen up, everyone.

My mother is in the hospital right now dealing with liver cirrhosis, and things just took a devastating turn—she’s had abdominal bleeding and her condition is critical. To be blunt, the doctors aren't exactly giving her much of a fighting chance. It’s hitting me incredibly hard; I honestly don't know how to process this or even how to keep my head above water. I can barely function.
I need some help here. Please. 😢

Get it together. Look, I know things aren't exactly being handled by the best people in the business right now, but they are doing everything within their power to keep this thing afloat. You need to have some faith. Don't go making your own life harder than it already is—just deal with the situation as it unfolds. There will be plenty of time for tears if things hit the fan, God forbid. For now, what's happened has happened, and we just have to handle it however we can.
🙂

Amy Torres4, it’s time to whip up that legendary lemonade whenever life decides to hand you a basket of lemons...
Look, I’m a mother, and yeah, I’m dealing with my own health issues right now, but honestly? I’m content. I'm actually feeling pretty grateful because, even with everything going on, there are two major headaches I don't have to deal with anymore. My kids are healthy and they're right here by my side. That's what matters.
As long as things stay this way—no matter how much it hurts—it's okay. Just trust me when I say your mom would be right there agreeing with me.
Just dig deep, find whatever strength you have left, and give it everything you've got.
I was a total wreck just yesterday morning, truly broken... but today feels different. I owe Angela Wright a huge thank you for everything she's done.

Angela Wright said:You really need to pull yourself together, okay? Even if things aren't exactly in the best possible hands right now, they're doing everything humanly possible to save her. You just have to keep the faith. Don't make things harder on yourself by spiraling; just take it one step at a time as things unfold. There’ll be plenty of time to cry if—God forbid—things take a turn for the worse. What’s happening is happening, and we'll just have to deal with it however we can.
🙂

Thank you so much for saying that, it really means a lot... but honestly, I don't even know if going to church to pray would actually help or what else I could do? I manage to keep my head on straight while I'm at work, but once that wave of sadness and anxiety hits me, I just feel completely helpless. And when I go to visit her at the hospital, I try so hard to play it tough and keep everything bottled up, even though I feel like I'm about to snap at any second...😢She was doing somewhat okay yesterday, but today she seems a bit lost, like she's having some hallucinations..😢Oh man, please God, help us...

ruggedpuma47 said:Jane Doe, it’s time to whip up that famous lemonade whenever life decides to hand you a bunch of lemons...
I'm dealing with some health issues myself, but honestly? I'm feeling pretty content and just thankful that even when things go wrong, there's always a silver lining out there somewhere... my kids are healthy and they're right here by my side, which is everything...
As long as things stay this way, no matter how heavy it feels, it's going to be okay, and please believe me when I say your mom would totally agree with me on that...
Just dig deep, find that strength, and give it everything you've got...
Seriously, just yesterday morning I was a complete wreck, but today feels different... thanks to Ivana Peci for everything.

Thanks, ruggedpuma47, but man, it is just so incredibly hard seeing her feel like she might actually leave me and my sister behind, and seeing those tears in her eyes... Honestly, if I had to go through that, I think I'd just drop dead right then and there...😢

Amy Torres4 said:Thanks, ruggedpuma47, but honestly? It’s just gut-wrenching. Seeing her actually feel like she might have to leave me and my sister behind... seeing those tears... it's too much. I swear, I think my heart would just stop right then and there.😢

Amy Torres4, honey, life is looking up now that you and your sister are finally on the right track... and honestly? That’s exactly how things ought to be.

My grandmother used to say, "No matter how old you get, once your mother passes away, you're an orphan." Honestly... there’s nothing more to be said than that. It’s just the truth.

Whatever you think might help, just go out there and do it. Pray, cry, scream at the top of your lungs—I don't care. Just do something.
Stick by her side for as long as you can. Just remember—when she’s looking at you, she’s really just staring at the life she wants to lead.
It honestly breaks my heart to see you going through this... seeing how much weight you're carrying and just how much it hurts. But look, you've got to just do what you can, with everything you've got. There isn't exactly a handbook for life's heavy hitters like this one; you can't prepare yourself for these kinds of hits in advance. All we can really do is try to understand one another, offer some advice, lean on each other, and... well, just try our best to provide some comfort when things get dark.

P.S. On my very first day in the recovery room after the lung cancer surgery, they let my kids come by my bedside. I couldn't even get a word out... I just sat there with tears streaming down my face. Later on, my kids told me how incredibly hard it was for them to see me like that. It just breaks your heart.
I couldn't even find the words back then. I just sat there, unable to say a single thing, while the tears kept coming. It wasn't because I was sad, though—it was because I was just so, so incredibly proud of them. Honestly, seeing who they've become... it hits you hard. I felt this overwhelming wave of happiness knowing that they are mine. My kids. Truly mine.

ruggedpuma47 said:Oh honey, you and your sister have a whole lifetime ahead of you... and honestly, that’s exactly how it should be.

My grandmother used to always tell me, "No matter how old you get, once you lose your mother, you're an orphan again"... and I really don't think there's anything more to say than that.

Whatever you feel like you need to do to get through this, just do it... pray, cry, scream your lungs out if you have to...
Just stay by her side as much as you possibly can, because when she looks at you, she's looking at her own life story unfolding right there.
It breaks my heart seeing how much you're hurting and how heavy this weight is on you, but please, just do the best you can with everything you've got... there's just no way to prepare yourself for a situation like this in advance, is there? All we can really do is try to understand one another, offer some advice, comfort each other, and... well, just try our hardest to provide some solace.

P.S. On my first day in the ICU after having surgery for lung cancer, they let my kids come to my bedside, and I couldn't even find the words—I just sat there with tears streaming down my face... later on, my kids told me how incredibly hard it was for them to see me crying like that.
I couldn't say a single thing back then, but I was weeping because I was just so, so, so proud of them and so incredibly happy that they were mine.

Thank you so much for trying to comfort me... but I think this whole thing still needs to settle in both me and my sister, since it all happened this past Monday... you know, one moment your entire world flips upside down, and suddenly all you can think about is her. She’s always been the strong one, the funny one, the light of the room... and now, watching her lie there so helpless, you just can't help but wonder what she's feeling, what's going through her mind, if she's in pain, or if she's ready to let go or wants to fight to stay... it's just too much. Every single time I head to the hospital, I'm gripped by this fear of what state I'll find her in today, or if she'll even recognize me... I just don't want her to suffer, no matter what happens... will she ever make it home? You just sit there wondering. 😢

Amy Torres4 said:Thanks so much for trying to comfort me... but clearly, my sister and I just need more time to process this. It all happened on Monday. It only takes one single moment to flip your entire life upside down, and suddenly, she's the only thing on your mind. She’s always been the strong one—cheerful, funny, the light of the room—but now you look at her lying there, completely helpless, and you can't help but wonder what she's feeling, what she's thinking, if she's in pain, or if she's even fighting to stay or wanting to let go... it's just too much. Every single time I drive to the hospital, I'm terrified. I'm scared of what state I'll find her in today, or if she'll even recognize me... I just don't want her to suffer, no matter how things turn out. You just sit there wondering... will she ever come home? 😢

Everything you're feeling right now is perfectly natural; it's just part of the process. I went through this twice with my own mother, and during the second time, everyone told me it was hopeless. I spent my days sitting at home, crying while obsessively sewing a button onto a garment in the specific section of the cemetery where she wanted to be laid to rest. I must have sewn that button on and ripped it off three times; no matter how carefully I measured, I’d somehow stitch it on crookedly. I couldn't understand why I was failing so badly until my phone rang and my dad told me they were actually going to proceed with the surgery—even though they had initially been dead-set against it and it felt like there was zero chance they'd change their minds. That's when it hit me: when you finally throw your hands up and give up, God only needs to point a finger to make things happen. Even when the end finally came a year later, nothing went the way I had imagined it would. It was hard, sure, but it wasn't nearly as devastating as the version I had built up in my head. That's the mercy of God you have to lean on. So, just let go for a moment. Breathe. Whatever happens, it will happen in the way it's meant to, and in a way you can ultimately handle. You have every right to hold onto hope for the best.

Angela Wright said:Everything you’re feeling right now is just completely natural, okay? It's part of the process. I went through this exact same thing twice with my own mom, and during that second time, everyone kept telling me there was absolutely no hope left. I remember just sitting there at home, crying my eyes out while trying to sew a button onto the specific outfit she wanted to be buried in. I swear, I tried sewing that button on three different times, ripping it off and starting over, and even though I thought I was measuring everything perfectly, it would just come out crooked somehow—I couldn't make sense of it! And then, suddenly, my phone rings and my dad tells me they actually decided to go ahead with her surgery, even though they were totally against it before and it felt like we had zero chance of changing their minds... and that's when it hit me: once you finally let go and stop trying to control everything, God only needs to point a finger to make things happen. Even when the end finally came a year after all that, nothing happened at all the way I had imagined it would. It was incredibly hard, sure, but honestly? It was so much easier than the nightmare I had built up in my head. That's the kind of grace from God you just have to lean into, so please, just let it all go and find some peace; whatever happens, it will happen in the way it's meant to, in a way you can actually handle. You truly have every right to hold onto hope for the best.

Thank you so much, sweetie, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and may God bless you for helping me through this... seriously, today the nurse told me that Mom managed to walk a little bit again with the help of her physical therapist, and she’s actually wanting to eat... so... it's something, right? Just a tiny bit of progress. I’m clinging to that immediately because it gives me this little spark of hope, even if she was acting a bit "lost" yesterday and today, just talking nonsense sometimes... but I’m going to keep praying to our Lord that this passes too, and that she gets her strength back and comes back to me...
I'm actually at work today, and I'm even functioning... I guess it'll probably be like this for a few days...
Thanks again... I'll check in here whenever I can, if I'm not being too much of a bother... but honestly, reading this is such a huge comfort and helps me so much.
Love ya

Amy Torres4 said:Thank you so much, truly, and may God bless you for helping me through this... My nurse told me today that mom was able to walk a little bit again with the help of her physical therapist, and she’s actually showing some interest in eating... so it's something. I'm clinging to that right now; it gives me this tiny spark of hope. Even though she’s been acting a bit confused and talking nonsense yesterday and today, I'm just praying to God that this passes too, and that she regains her strength and comes back to me...
I'm at work today, actually managing to function... hopefully, I'll be back to my usual self in a few days...
Thanks again... I'll check back in here if I'm not being a nuisance... this has been such a huge comfort and help.
XOXO

They're almost certainly giving mom something for sedation or pain management, which would definitely explain why she seems "lost" or confused. Listen, what she went through is a massive trauma, but the fact that she got up and walked is an absolutely incredible sign!

ruggedpuma47, I am genuinely relieved to hear your mom was up and walking. It’s a huge win, just like what the folks over at Mayo Clinic always emphasize regarding recovery
Just hang in there and take it one single step at a time... you have to..

I spent half my day stuck in traffic heading toward Austin today, but I'm finally feeling stable enough. On Monday, I actually start my first round of chemo
Life is such a strange, unpredictable thing... we’re actually looking at this as a positive since it means the treatment is finally starting..🙂 🙂

ruggedpuma47 said:Amy Torres4, I am seriously so happy to hear your mom is up and walking again—it really is such a huge win, just like that lady mentioned earlier.
Hang in there and just take it one single step at a time, okay?

I spent half the day over at the local Mayo Clinic today, and I’m finally feeling steady enough to actually start my first round of chemo this coming Monday.
Life is just so wild and unpredictable sometimes... but honestly, we’re actually feeling hopeful because starting treatment means we're finally taking action.🙂 🙂

I am truly, deeply happy for you guys, mommyclear, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. May God bless you all with strength and health. I’m heading over to see my own mom right now, so please, please pray to God that she starts feeling better and that I can find the strength to get through everything ahead of us.