Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:Another thing—for those following our journey fighting melanoma—unfortunately, things have taken a turn for the worse. The latest PET/CT scan showed five new metastases, including one in the lungs. Since the only way to actually know what we're dealing with is through surgery or potentially a biopsy, and my husband is refusing any further surgical interventions, we’re left with nothing but to wait and see how this plays out.

He has this profound belief in alternative healing, and his decision right now is that we won't be pursuing any more clinical trials or experimental medicine. While I don't entirely agree with that stance, I am supporting him, and I can only hope for the best. Because, honestly, I don't have anything else left to do but hope..

Honey, I am so incredibly sorry about the scan results. Just stay strong and keep moving forward; there's no stopping now. You are in my thoughts and my prayers. If you need anything at all, please reach out.

Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:I’m sorry, but what exactly is the diagnosis? Is it malignant melanoma or basal cell carcinoma?

Because if we are talking about malignant melanoma (which, heaven forbid, it isn't), then the reality is quite different from the sanitized version doctors typically present. Our Dermatica told us everything was fine six years ago. Fast forward to today, and my husband is at Stage IV with no remaining therapeutic options, despite regular checkups. So, if this is indeed melanoma, please reach out; I can explain why physicians often withhold the full truth and what steps you might take to prevent the tragedy we have endured.

On another note, for those following our journey fighting melanoma, things have unfortunately taken a turn for the worse. The latest PET/CT scan revealed five new metastases, including one in the lungs. Since the only way to confirm the current status would be surgery or a biopsy—and my husband refuses any further surgical intervention—we are left with nothing but to wait and see how this unfolds.

He holds a profound belief in alternative healing, and his decision is to stop pursuing clinical trials or experimental medicine. While I don't entirely agree, I support him and hope for the best. After all, what else is there to do but hope?

The diagnosis is basal cell carcinoma. That brings me some relief, as I've read how vicious melanoma can be.
I am so sorry to hear that things have worsened for you, though I truly believe that faith and optimism play a role in the process.
From the very beginning, the prognosis for my father wasn't good. Metastases were detected six months ago, yet they still haven't located the primary tumor. When I saw the PET/CT results, I nearly fainted seeing how many spots appeared on the scans. However, he is a great optimist, as are we. There are difficult days, and then there are days when we can barely wrap our heads around his illness.
I honestly don't know where we would be without optimism and the belief that one should—and can—fight.

What’s the actual mortality rate for breast cancer?

Is it normal to have a healthy uterus and ovaries removed just because doctors think there's a risk of cancer developing there later on?

My left breast was removed along with 9 lymph nodes, one of which tested positive.

Melissa Morgan67 said:Is the mortality rate for breast cancer actually high?

Is it really considered normal practice to just rip out a healthy uterus and ovaries simply because doctors think there's a chance cancer might pop up there later?

The left breast was removed along with 9 lymph nodes, one of which tested positive.

Look, if you catch breast cancer early enough, the survival rate is incredibly high—I’m talking north of 90%.
Some tumor types have a nasty habit of jumping from one breast to the other, so surgeons often suggest taking out the "healthy" side as a precaution. Unfortunately, I know plenty of stories where that’s exactly what happens. Everything seems perfect—surgery is done, chemo and radiation are finished, scans look clean—and then, out of nowhere during a routine checkup, they find the monster hiding in the other breast, plus it's spread to the bones and lymph nodes. I'm telling you, it's a scenario you see more often than you'd think.
It’s a heavy spot to be in, feeling perfectly fine but facing this. Personally, knowing how I operate, I don't think I'd waste my time worrying unnecessarily, especially given how advanced reconstructive surgery is these days.
Take the actress Christina Applegate (Kelly Bundy😉) as an example; she decided to have her "healthy" breast removed after her diagnosis. Since her mother dealt with the same thing but chose not to go that route, seeing her mom's ongoing struggle convinced her that making the call upfront was better than living in constant fear of what might happen next.

Look, we’ve already seen that going full radical with breast surgeries doesn't necessarily mean you're getting a better shot at survival. It’s the same deal with preemptively ripping out organs—it’s not like it just adds years to your life. While doctors are still all over the place with how they handle this, the trend is definitely shifting toward being more conservative. People are moving away from those massive preventative cuts.

Jamie Rivera78 said:Just because someone goes through the most radical breast surgery doesn't mean they actually get better survival odds. It's the same deal with preemptively removing organs—it's not a magic button for a longer life. While medical practices change, the trend is moving toward more conservative surgeries. Preemptive removals are becoming less common.

I still think preemptive removals happen, and doctors weigh the pros and cons on a case-by-case basis before deciding what to cut.
When you're dealing with cancer, terms like "guarantees" or "certainties" are total fairy tales. There are no guarantees in this world. All we really have to work with are some statistics, hard facts, and data samples that we use to make these massive, life-altering calls on our own.

Angela Wright said:Breast cancer has a very high cure rate if caught early enough. I believe it is over 90%.

What does that 90% actually represent? Is that the five-year survival rate or a total cure?

Here’s an update on my mom's recent consultation...

She’s finished two cycles of chemo so far—each cycle consists of three sessions (Monday, Wednesday, then the following Monday)—making it 6 treatments total over those two rounds.
She had her lung imaging and bloodwork done today... and honestly, the results look good. The X-ray shows some improvement, and her blood counts are surprisingly solid—her white cell count didn't even drop (it's at 6). She was also prescribed an appetite stimulant, and she’s finally starting to eat more consistently.

She has two more cycles left to go, starting this Monday. That brings the total to 4 cycles—or 12 treatments in all.

We’re hoping for the best, but I'm relieved things are looking up slightly. My brother and I feel much better knowing we followed the advice from the Head of Department at the Mayo Clinic—we jumped straight into chemo IMMEDIATELY.

If I had waited for them to call us from San Francisco—which would have been a two-month wait—I think we would have made a massive mistake.

At the end of the day, whatever happens, happens—but I'm glad the current results are positive.🙂

Best to everyone.🙂

Drew Allen said:What does 90% actually mean? Are we talking about a five-year survival rate or an actual total cure?

It refers to treatment success. I'm not exactly sure how much time needs to pass before they officially call it remission, so you should probably look here to get the facts straight.

Susan Diaz91 said:Here’s an update regarding my mom’s multidisciplinary consultation...

She’s finished two cycles of chemo so far (each cycle consists of three sessions—Monday, Wednesday, and the following Monday—meaning she's had 6 sessions total over those two cycles).
We did her lung scans and bloodwork today, and the results are actually encouraging... things are looking slightly better; the X-ray shows some improvement. Her blood counts are surprisingly solid, too—her white cell count hasn't dropped at all, staying right at 6. She was prescribed an appetite stimulant, and she’s finally starting to eat more consistently.

She has two more cycles coming up, starting this Monday... that brings the total to 4 cycles, or 12 sessions altogether.

We’re hoping for the best, but I'm relieved there's a bit of progress. My brother and I can sleep at night knowing we did exactly what the Department Head at the Mayo Clinic suggested: we jumped straight into chemo IMMEDIATELY.

If I had sat around waiting for the call from the hospital in San Francisco—which would have taken another two months—I think we would have made a massive mistake.

Whatever happens, happens, but I’m just glad the current reports look this way. 🙂

Best to everyone, 🙂

You did everything within your power, and that realization provides a unique kind of strength and peace. I hope you're holding up okay, too. When is your appointment scheduled?

Predicting the outlook for breast cancer really comes down to a few moving parts: the size of the primary tumor, the histological grade, how aggressively it tends to grow, and its potential for lymphatic metastasis. Patients in the "low-risk" category generally have a much more favorable prognosis—we’re typically looking at histologically differentiated carcinomas with high receptor expression. On the flip side, if we're dealing with an undifferentiated carcinoma, evidence of lymphangiosis carcinomatosa, or very low/negative receptor levels, those patients fall into the high-risk category. Interestingly, because breast cancer tends to progress more slowly compared to other genital carcinomas, even without treatment, about 20-35% of patients survive five years, and roughly 3-5% make it to the ten-year mark. However, the single most critical prognostic factor remains lymph node involvement. If the nodes are negative, the survival rates are significantly higher—around 80% at five years and 65% at ten years. Naturally, the prognosis worsens as the number of metastatic lymph nodes increases, with three to five positive nodes being considered a critical threshold.

When looking at overall recovery, measured by the five-year survival rate, the numbers break down like this:
-Stage I: 70 - 80%,
-Stage II: 50 - 70%,
-Stages III and IV: 20 - 30% or even lower.

Yes—the five-year window is the standard metric used here.

The fundamental issue we face in the US is that women aren't responding to preventative screening programs nearly as much as they should. And for those who actually do show up for screenings, they often run into agonizingly long waits before therapy can even begin—largely due to a chronic shortage of radiation equipment across the country.

Personally, I’ve always felt that all those clinical forecasts and statistical models are pretty much irrelevant to us as patients. You have to fight with everything you've got and refuse to throw in the towel. Some people defy the odds and beat the statistics, while others don't—that's just how it goes. But if you don't at least try, how can you ever truly know if you could have made it? And even if someone doesn't win the battle, their family and friends will at least know they fought like a lion until the very end. For some, seeing that sheer will to live can be a profound source of inspiration and the strength to keep pushing forward.

Angela Wright@thanks for getting back to me. I just hope everything goes exactly as it should now.

Melissa Morgan67 said:Angela Wright, thanks for the reply. I just hope everything goes exactly the way it's supposed to.

Just stay positive. Ask your doctor every single question that crosses your mind, and don't you dare forget that you have every right to seek a second or even third opinion—so go out there and get one without any hesitation.

I’ll say it again just to be clear: I went through the mammograms and the biopsies, and they didn't find anything. Even if I went back now, it wouldn't matter—she basically pointed them right toward where the issue was, so by the time they actually looked, it would probably have been too late for her anyway.

How much radiation does an MRI actually emit?

Melissa Morgan67 said:How much radiation does an MRI actually emit?

It doesn't.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnetic_resonance_imaging

Angela Wright said:You did everything you could—that’s what gives you peace of mind. Hope you're doing okay too. When is your appointment?

I feel the same way, honey 🙂... we really did our best. I wasn't just sitting around waiting for a call from the hospital for two months like some bystander 🙂

My appointment is June 24th, though my doctor said I'll likely go in sooner because of my blood work and heparin therapy 🙂

The little one is restless... I can't wait to finally see her, meet her, and thank her for choosing me to be her mom. Can't wait to welcome her to the world 😍

Just ready to kiss that tiny little wrinkled butt and those feet—currently measuring about 5cm and 4mm 😍😍

Angela Wright said:Don't spread misinformation.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnetic_resonance_imaging

Thanks
But are these concerns about mammograms actually valid?
I mean, women really can't go without them.

Susan Diaz91 said:I am eagerly anticipating the moment I can finally kiss that tiny, five-centimeter, four-millimeter foot and backside.😍😍

🙂