Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

nimblepanther14 said:Question 2: Can the liver actually be operated on? I heard someone mention somewhere that you can't perform surgery on the liver... this is regarding a liver tumor (it's for a friend's father).

It’s certainly possible—either by removing the entire segment affected by the tumor or metastasis, or even the whole lobe—but really, it all boils down to where the tumor is located and just how large it has become.

melloworca6 said:Do you have thyroid cancer? Have you had surgery, or gone through radioactive iodine therapy?

I’ve been doing a bit of reading on thyroid cancers—mostly because someone very dear to me was diagnosed with one, I believe it was follicular—and I remember reading somewhere that it can spread through the bloodstream to other organs.

edit: Okay, found where I read that; it was on the Butterfly Clinic website:

Follicular carcinomas most commonly spread via the bloodstream to the bones, lungs, and liver (hematogenous spread at 15-25%), and less frequently via the lymph system to local lymph nodes (lymphogenous spread at 2-15%). It has a good prognosis, though slightly less favorable than papillary carcinoma. Treatment typically involves surgery and radioactive iodine.

Thanks... I don't actually know what I have yet. Not until my surgery in two months will we know if it's benign (an adenoma) or malignant...

My doctor mentioned that it mostly spreads to the neck... he wasn't trying to scare me, of course. I suppose everyone handles this differently, but personally, I'd rather have the blunt truth thrown at me—no matter how grim—than be kept in the dark. I need to know where I stand, or what I might be facing...
Well... so I have two months of uncertainty ahead of me (and that is precisely what I dislike most...)

wanderingcobra76 said:It’s possible—they could remove the entire affected segment containing the tumor or metastasis, or even an entire lobe—but honestly, it all comes down to where the tumor is sitting and how big it actually is.

That’s good to know, thank you... I suppose we just have to see how much they can manage for now.
The whole situation regarding the tumor is still somewhat up in the air. To be honest, sepsis following the bowel surgery has really slowed everything down—which is understandable, of course—so the doctors' primary focus right now is just managing the infection.

restlessowl3 said:Hey everyone... I have a few questions regarding radiation for a brain tumor. My mom has already undergone two surgeries, and her latest MRI isn't looking good. It doesn't seem practical to go through a third surgery, so she’s heading to see Dr. Radic for a consultation in a few days. If they decide radiation is the way to go, how often would she need to go in, and what kind of side effects should we be bracing for?

What kind of tumor are we talking about here, and what treatments has she had so far?
Look, if she has already been through radiation and hit the maximum dose—I believe that's around 20Gy for the brain—then further radiation isn't an option. At that point, you'd likely be looking at a different line of chemotherapy instead.

nimblepanther14
If my sister is fully conscious, she has the absolute right to make her own calls. None of you have any business trying to second-guess her. Honestly, if I were in her shoes, I’d probably be making the exact same choice. You can drain pleural effusions, sure, but every time you puncture that area, you're just clearing space for more fluid to rush back in. It might buy her a couple of weeks, but at what cost? You can't live a life with zero quality left. This is her deeply personal, incredibly heavy decision to make. Respect it. It breaks my heart—it’s just fundamentally unfair that such a young woman has to deal with this.

Regarding the liver metastases, surgery is an option only if there are just one or two well-placed spots. Unfortunately, liver mets usually spread like Swiss cheese; they pop up everywhere, making it impossible to cut them out without essentially destroying the liver itself.

Thirdly, they say thyroid malignancies are actually the best kind of "bad news" to get. They rarely metastasize and the prognosis is significantly better than almost any other form of cancer.

Angela Wright Asks:
nimblepanther14
Since the sister is fully conscious, she has every right to make her own decisions—period. None of you have any business disputing that. To be perfectly honest, if I were in her shoes, I’d likely come to the exact same conclusion. The pleural effusions can be drained through aspiration, but there’s always the issue that every single puncture just creates more room for even more fluid to accumulate—it’s a bit of a cycle, really. You might buy her a few extra weeks of time that way, but at what cost? It wouldn't be life; it would just be existing without any semblance of quality. This is her deeply personal, incredibly difficult, and profoundly intimate decision to make. Please, just respect that. My heart truly goes out to her—it feels so fundamentally unfair that such a young woman has to navigate something this heavy.

I know, I truly am aware... and honestly, who’s to say? Perhaps this really is the best decision for her. Disease doesn't care about age—it just strikes. She isn't exactly a spring chicken at 50, though she certainly had plenty of life left to live. Now, it feels like I’m just sitting here, waiting for that phone call—that dreaded, heavy news—to drop any given day.😢

Angela Wright said:Regarding liver metastases—it’s technically possible to go in and surgically remove them if you're dealing with just one or maybe two well-placed spots. But, unfortunately, that's rarely how it plays out. Most of the time, liver metastases tend to spread quite aggressively—they pop up everywhere, much like those holes in a block of Emmental cheese. At that stage, it simply becomes impossible to cut them out without destroying the liver itself.

I honestly can't say for certain if we're looking at liver metastases... all that has been confirmed is that "something" showed up on the scan. No one is truly sure what it is—it could be a metastasis, or it could just be some imaging artifact from the scan itself, though I suppose one can never be entirely sure in these situations. Right now, the doctors are laser-focused on managing the infection and getting the sepsis under control—that's the immediate priority—so the liver issue is being pushed to the side for the moment. It makes me wonder—why isn't our medical system structured differently? You’d think an oncologist would be looped in immediately to start prep work or run diagnostic tests right away, rather than waiting until the crisis passes. It feels like a missed opportunity for proactive care.

Angela Wright said:Some people say that if you’re going to be dealt a diagnosis like this, thyroid malignancies are actually the "best" kind to get—if such a thing even exists. They claim they rarely metastasize and generally carry a much more favorable prognosis compared to other types of neoplasms. It’s a strange thought, really—finding a silver lining in a medical crisis—but I suppose there is some logic to it.

I, too, am holding onto the hope that things will turn out that way...

Thank you so much... your post really means a lot to me.
It’s difficult for me to really open up about this with anyone—mostly because nobody I know seems to be fighting all three "fronts" at once, if you catch my drift...

nimblepanther14 said:Thanks... I don't really know what I'm dealing with yet. Until I have surgery in two months, there's no way to tell if it's benign (an adenoma) or malignant..

My doctor told me it usually spreads to the neck... he wasn't trying to scare me off. I don't know about everyone else, but I'd rather have someone "shoot me in the head" with the truth than deal with uncertainty, no matter how grim it is. I need to know where I stand and what might happen next...
So... I've got two months of pure limbo (which I absolutely hate).

You know the saying: if cancer has to pick a spot, let it be the thyroid (though nowhere is better, obviously). First off, most people catch it early because the thyroid starts acting up, prompting doctors to start digging with tests. Second, once it's out, you go with radioactive iodine and that's often the end of it. Third, it was good of your doctor to be upfront; it typically metastasizes locally to the neck first.

Based on what I read in the quote, you could have gathered that there's actually a small chance of it spreading through the blood (around 15-25%) or to nearby lymph nodes (2-15%).

From what I gather, there are four types of thyroid cancer. Papillary is the easiest one to handle, and yours is right behind it. Usually, surgery, radioactive iodine therapy, and regular checkups do the trick. I personally know people who had thyroid cancer and turned out fine—they just had the thyroid removed, took hormone replacement (like Euthyrox, which I take myself since my own thyroid is underactive), did the iodine treatment, and they were good to go.

edit: Gordon, take a quick look at this page: , it explains everything clearly—the different types of cancer, symptoms, treatments, and so on. It's actually a really solid read. 🙂

Thanks, melloworca6

I’m choosing to believe everything is going to turn out just fine for me.

Fortunately—and I suppose this is one of those small mercies—I've always stayed pretty fit, so hopefully that gives me a bit of an edge when it comes to handling the upcoming treatments.

Gordana, look, sepsis is a heavy hitter. When you're fighting an infection like that, oncology treatments aren't even on the table because they can be absolutely fatal in this state. Plus, what they spotted on the scan might just be nothing—it doesn't necessarily mean we're looking at a malignant lesion. If we could pin down exactly what it is right now, we would, but it’s clearly not the time or the place for that kind of certainty.

Greetings.

I am looking for some assistance, perhaps a bit of comfort, or just some perspective.
My mother is 58. Over the last few months, she’s been dealing with abdominal bloating and general discomfort. It wasn't really an issue until recently. The concern is heightened because we have a history of cervical cancer in the family—her sister passed away from it, and my grandmother also died young following severe pain and bleeding. We don't have the exact diagnosis for my grandmother since it was so long ago, but we suspect it was the same thing.
Suspecting something might be wrong, my mother went for a Pap test and a gynecological exam about three months ago. That doctor insisted everything was fine. She then visited a different gynecologist at a local clinic for an ultrasound and exam, but again, nothing was found.
While she was undergoing physical therapy for back pain, she caught pneumonia after cooling down too quickly. Alongside the pneumonia, she still had the bloating and lower abdominal discomfort. This led to a gastrointestinal workup, including a colonoscopy, which revealed diverticula and fluid buildup in her system. She has been taking various medications and underwent scans of her stomach and small intestine, yet they found nothing there. Another ultrasound and gynecological exam yielded no results. In the meantime, they discovered gallstones, which required surgery. Despite all the testing—X-rays, ultrasounds, and CT scans—nothing "serious" was detected, aside from the fluid that keeps returning despite medication. However, the discomfort and bloating persist, even though her bowel movements remain regular. A few days ago, they discovered fluid in her lungs. They performed a puncture and drained one liter of fluid, which has been sent for analysis. We are currently waiting for those results, but for our family, this has been a total nightmare. The doctor who performed the puncture checked certain markers—things we hadn't thought to check before, and frankly, I don't understand why the previous doctors didn't mention them. Her CA 125 level is at 3065, while a normal level is around 35. I won't list every other marker here; I will attach the images of the lab results below.
Following these results, she was referred to a gynecologist at the major hospital here in town, but even he found nothing during his exam. Refusing to settle for "nothing," we sought out a private gynecologist. Upon performing an ultrasound and a physical exam, he actually felt a tumor. He told us the situation isn't good and expressed confusion as to how the previous doctors missed it. We then traveled to a specialized clinic in a nearby major city for a second opinion, and they confirmed what the private gynecologist found (see findings below). However, the local private gynecologist says he cannot make a definitive call until he operates; he believes he needs to see for himself. He mentioned that due to the state of the intestines—which seem almost fused together—he has to perform surgery to truly understand the extent.
Now we are facing another dilemma. The specialist in the city suggests we wait for the lung fluid results. If those results show the presence of cancer cells, he recommends skipping surgery for now and starting with chemotherapy. If the chemo lowers the markers, then surgery might be safer and easier to perform.
The local gynecologist is a bit blunt, but he is a highly skilled expert. He simply said, "Who knows when those fluid results will be ready?" He wants to run a CT scan of the abdomen and pelvis before proceeding with surgery. I have searched the internet extensively; I can see this is bad, but if anyone has any insight, I would be deeply grateful. Is there any hope that it hasn't metastasized? And what is the wiser path: operating to see the extent, or doing chemo first to shrink it?
Results are attached below.

http://i48.tinypic.com/jsh9c9.jpg
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http://i50.tinypic.com/e89uex.jpg
http://i48.tinypic.com/ab11cl.jpg
http://i45.tinypic.com/nce0y0.jpg
http://i45.tinypic.com/nce0y0.jpg

Angela Wright said:Most likely, it won't grow large enough to be easily noticed before metastases complicate things significantly. That's why early intervention is vital, and you were lucky those nodes could be removed. These types of tumors are essentially "occult." You absolutely must see a private urologist for a testicular ultrasound! If you have to dip into your savings, do it; your life is on the line.
Regarding malignant diseases of this nature, I believe Rebro Hospital remains the most competent facility in our country. My advice would be to call them and inquire about potential treatment costs.
I am unsure how insurance works in your area, but here, if something cannot be detected or treated locally, there is a way to get treatment approved abroad through social services. It is a bureaucratic nightmare, but technically feasible. Look into that possibility. In this situation, I would personally suggest seeking treatment in Germany, Italy, or perhaps Austria.

EDIT: markers?

Greetings, everyone.

I am well aware that successful tumor treatment depends entirely on how quickly one starts, specifically before the cancer spreads. I am still waiting on the pathology report, hoping they can identify cells from the primary site to help determine a targeted therapy in a timely manner.

As for the markers, we ran Beta-HCG, AFP, CEA, CA19-9, prostate markers, and CA 125. Everything fell within the normal reference ranges.

If the pathology results come back inconclusive again, I intend to take matters into my own hands by arranging a color Doppler ultrasound of the testes and a prostate biopsy. I am not sure what else warrants investigation. If the oncology board recommends "waiting," I will have no choice but to seek approval for treatment abroad. If that fails, I’ll just take out a loan and go myself. The language barrier is a slight concern, but I assume someone can be found to translate.

One must fight. My child is finishing high school and should be heading to college soon—but who will provide for them? My wife is unemployed; I am currently the only option left (provided the tumor doesn't win first).

Jamie Chase
Unfortunately, everything points toward ovarian cancer 😢 All those elevated markers share the exact same denominator. That spike in CRP? It’s likely just a reaction to the inflammation from the effusion.
The fact that more than one marker didn't flag anything suspicious isn't unusual at all when dealing with ovarian cancer. This disease is incredibly sneaky; it hides well and often gains significant momentum before anyone even realizes what's happening. My take is that they’ll almost certainly move to a full hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy very soon, then use the pathology results to map out the next steps of therapy and the overall prognosis. Honestly, there isn't much other way to play it. Having three typical elevated markers combined with a positive gynecological exam is a definitive indication for surgery. They’ll probably run a PET-CT and a bone scan as well, just to rule out any metastasis.

I’m not looking for answers or advice here—I just need to get my impressions and what I’m feeling out into the world.

I spent the day at the hospital visiting my sister...
Things have taken a turn for the worse since my last visit... she finally agreed to the lung puncture, which means she might have a little more time left.. 😢
It is incredibly difficult to look at her... I can see that she knows her time is running short. There isn't much left for me to say, really—just fixing her blanket, adjusting that nasal cannula, or offering to go grab the morning paper for her..
Breathing is a struggle, sitting up is a struggle, even speaking is quiet and labored... physically, she isn't herself anymore. Aside from her eyes and her teeth, there isn't much of her face left to recognize..
I can't begin to fathom what it feels like to know you’re nearing the end—it must be harrowing... or perhaps, eventually, a person just finds peace with it. I personally can't find that peace, which is likely why everything feels so chaotic inside me right now. I'm terrified of the nothingness waiting for her, and eventually, for all of us...
The uncertainty of it all—the sheer inevitability of death—it's "killing" me.. if only there were some doubt, some shred of hope, some glimmer of possibility...
The one small thing that brought a bit of light to my day was when she asked me to bring her some fruit cake this Sunday.. there is still a spark of life and desire in her somewhere..
And I just find myself hoping that no bad news will prevent me from bringing her that cake on Sunday..
As I sit here writing this tonight, I am overwhelmed by this sense of endless sorrow... though it's really a messy spectrum of every emotion imaginable.
I think I'll head for a soak in the tub now, just to try and wash this day away..

Angela Wright said:Jamie Chase
Unfortunately, everything points toward ovarian cancer. 😢 All these elevated markers share the exact same underlying cause. That high CRP level? It’s likely just an inflammatory response from the effusion itself.
The fact that some markers didn't flag anything suspicious isn't unusual at all when dealing with ovarian cancer. We are talking about an incredibly insidious disease—one that hides easily and often gains significant momentum before anyone even notices. My assumption? They will likely move to perform a total hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy very soon. Once the pathology report is back, they can determine the next steps and the actual prognosis. There really isn't much other way to play this. Three typical elevated markers combined with a gynecologist's positive finding constitute a definitive indication for surgery. They will probably order a PET-CT and a bone scan as well, just to rule out any metastasis.

Thanks for the reply. Just one question: on the cytology report from the clinic, it says "Dg. Tm ovarii I. utg. verosim Ca." Does that indicate a specific stage? And how precisely can a stage be determined using just a gynecological exam and a color Doppler ultrasound?

PS. The results from the lung fluid analysis just came in. It was negative for tumor cells.

Jamie Chase said:Thanks for getting back to me. Just wanted to ask—this cytology report from the clinic says "Mass of ovary, highly suspicious for cancer." Is that considered a specific stage? And how accurate can they actually be when determining a stage using just a pelvic exam and a color Doppler ultrasound?

P.S. The results for the lung fluid came back, and it’s negative for tumor cells.

You can't get a definitive diagnosis that way; it's really just an educated guess based on certain indicators. A histopathological tissue analysis is the only thing that counts as absolute proof. Mom is almost certainly heading into surgery.
Fluid buildup doesn't always mean the tumor caused it directly. It could be indirect—like the tumor putting pressure on a vessel, causing lymph to pool—or it could be a byproduct of an infection, especially since her CRP levels are elevated.
The doctor will tell you exactly what the next steps are soon enough.

It's true that some benign conditions can cause those markers to spike, like endometriosis, but honestly, I'm worried because Mom is a bit too old for that, and the CA125 marker is quite high. Still, I know much weirder things have happened.

Angela Wright said:What kind of tumor are we talking about, and what treatments has she had so far?
Basically, if she’s already undergone radiation and hit the maximum dose—I think the limit for the brain is around 20Gy—then more radiation isn't an option. At that point, you're looking at moving on to a different line of chemotherapy.

On December 33rd [sic]... the internet says her diagnosis means a benign brain tumor, specifically located above the tentorium. She hasn't actually started any radiation yet. She had surgeries back in November of year four and May of year five, but now it's flared up again.

Jamie Chase said:''Tumors on both ovaries, likely cancer. Is that considered a stage? And how accurately can they determine the stage using just a pelvic ultrasound and color Doppler?

The diagnosis essentially translates to this: tumors on both ovaries, most likely carcinoma (malignant tumor)/cancer.

As Angela Wright mentioned, you can't truly pin down the stage of ovarian cancer until after surgery—once they actually perform the laparotomy, take tissue samples, and do the necessary washings.

restlessowl3 said:D is 33.0. (Benign brain tumor, above the tentorium), at least that's what the online info says her diagnosis translates to. She hasn't started radiation yet; she had surgeries on 4/11 and 5/12. Now, it’s back.

In this scenario, radiation is definitely a solid option. The whole point is to shrink the tumor down to a size that can actually be operated on, if nothing else. How big is the tumor we're talking about? If it’s under 2.5cm, Gamma Knife is a great move—it basically cauterizes the vessels feeding the tumor, causing it to wither and get absorbed by the body.
There's also the route of using certain cytostatics, though I'm not entirely sure about the specific protocol for that. You could probably find some published studies on PubMed regarding it.
Dr. Radic is an excellent physician; she'll do everything in her power. Don't hesitate to ask her every single question you have—she'll walk you through it all.

nimblepanther14 said:I’m not asking anything in this post, I just want to get my impressions and feelings out there.

I was at the hospital visiting my sister today...
Things have taken a turn for the worse since a few days ago... she agreed to a lung puncture; she might have a little more time left... 😢
It is so incredibly hard to look at her... I can tell she knows her time is running short. There isn't much left to say to her, so I just fix her blanket, adjust that tube going into her nose, or offer to go grab her the newspaper...
She struggles to breathe, struggles to sit up, speaks softly and with such difficulty... physically, she’s just not herself anymore... all that remains of her face are her eyes and her teeth...
I don't know what it feels like to be someone who knows they are about to die—it must be horrific... or maybe people eventually find peace with it? I certainly can't find peace with it, and maybe that's why everything feels so jumbled inside me. I'm terrified of the nothingness waiting for her soon, and for me, and for all of us, whenever our time comes...
That uncertainty, that inevitability of death... it "kills" me. If only it were uncertain, if there were even a sliver of hope or some possibility left...
The only thing that brought me any joy was when she told me to bring her a fruit cake this Sunday... it shows there is still a spark of life and desire in her somewhere...
And I just hope that some bad news doesn't stop me from bringing her that cake on Sunday...
As I write this tonight, I feel this endless sadness... mixed in with every other emotion imaginable.
I'm going to take a bath now to try and wash this day away...

...fix her blanket, adjust her nasal tube, get her the paper, bring her fruit cake...
You are doing everything within your power. I know that feeling of helplessness makes you angry and sad, but being there by her side—that is exactly what she needs.
Smile at her, and try not to let her see you looking so broken and unhappy... those of us dealing with illness find it especially hard to cope (speaking from experience) when we see grief etched on the faces of our loved ones. It hurts us to see you hurting, yet we are powerless to change it.

ruggedpuma47 said:Just smile back at her. Don't let her see you looking miserable and defeated... honestly, as patients, we struggle enough just dealing with the grief etched onto the faces of our loved ones. It hurts us deeply knowing we are causing them pain when we’re completely powerless to stop it.

That’s true, but every single time it cuts you deep because they're hurting, remember that this ache comes from pure love. We carry this cross alongside our loved ones specifically because they mean everything to us. Life would be much harder if you didn't care about your family at all, though unfortunately, there are plenty of people out there who live purely for that kind of heartache.