Started by James Cox6 · · 👁 89 views · 3.9K replies
…
Harold Ramos67 said:The tumor was diagnosed at an inoperable stage. Despite the family's intense pressure, they pushed ahead with surgery anyway, and they managed to excise a portion of the tumor tissue. Even so, the prognosis remains grim...
Honestly, we’d probably try anything—whether it’s some experimental drug in clinical trials, bioenergy, or even a folk remedy. It doesn't matter what the previous results were; the truth is, we're running out of time, and frankly, we have nothing left to lose.
rustyangler7 said:Hey everyone.
My seventeen-month-old cousin was a mess before he ended up in the hospital. He had a massive fever, was drooling constantly, coughing, and broke out in this rash all over his body and throat. At night, he couldn't even settle down; he was tossing and turning like crazy, just fighting sleep. By the next day, he couldn't even stand on his feet anymore—he could only crawl on his knees. Right now, he's being treated with IV antibiotics three times a day, and that's been going on for four days.
All scans of his vital organs are coming back clear. He’s responding well to the antibiotic therapy, stays cheerful, eats, and sleeps like a baby. He’s starting to interact more—reaching out with his hands, pulling his legs toward him, even wiggling his feet and toes. He still can't put any weight on his legs just yet, though.
The sedimentation level was 76.
Melissa Parker37 said:Regarding Susan Diaz91:
From what I understand, under Medicare, Tarceva is provided free of charge to about 60 patients a year. Roughly 400 people qualify for this treatment, and in the US, around 3,500 people are diagnosed with lung cancer every single year.
slyseal28 said:thanks to all the pressure from patient advocacy groups (like the Jedro Association and the For a New Day Association), there’s actually no cap on how many patients can get access to Tarceva...
Tarceva indication: Third-line treatment for non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC), specifically for locally advanced or metastatic stages after two lines of chemo have already been used up.
Angela Wright;21401896 said:
Brain tumors—malignant ones like astrocytoma, glioblastoma, or gliosarcoma—always come with grim prognoses, but that doesn't mean a person is stuck living by those survival averages (you didn't specify which type we're talking about here).
So, we got the pathology results back today: Glioblastoma multiforme grade IV.
Melissa Parker37 said:I think I’m going to snap. My father is crying like a little child. I rushed out of work just to check on him, and there he is, sitting at home weeping. I’ve endured so much, but I don’t know if I can handle this...
He isn't in physical pain, but he feels this overwhelming weakness throughout his entire body, and talking has become quite difficult for him. He says he feels anxious, so I gave him some Praxiten.
It’s so hard to watch him like this, and I feel completely helpless. It’s just heavy...
Harold Ramos67 said:We got the pathology results back today: Glioblastoma multiforme grade IV.
Carol Mitchell86 said:My mother had a head CT yesterday. She’s been dealing with intense headaches over the last few months, and about two weeks ago, she actually collapsed—everyone suspected a stroke at the time. The CT results came back suggesting that the findings most likely point toward a glioblastoma. She’s scheduled for an MRI today. Can anyone tell me if there's any chance this isn't a glioblastoma? Is it possible for a CT diagnosis to be wrong?😢
Carol Mitchell86 said:Thanks so much, Angela Wright. So, the final diagnosis isn't actually set until after the PhD analysis is complete.
Angela Wright said:The only way to get a truly accurate diagnosis is through a pathology analysis of the puncture or the tissue removed during surgery. A CT scan, PET scan, or MRI can only point toward a potential tumor based on its appearance and location—essentially allowing doctors to make an educated guess based on experience—but pathology is the alpha and omega when establishing a tumor diagnosis meaning the specific typing of the tumor. After all, the type of tumor dictates the entire treatment plan.
Carol Mitchell86 said:Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’ve spent so much time digging through everything on the website, and honestly, it’s been eye-opening. It is such a relief that a resource like this actually exists. Being from Canada, we don't have many reliable places to turn for info—which is basically a polite way of saying we have absolutely no way to prepare ourselves or her for what we're actually up against.
Surgery is scheduled for next week. We met with the doctor yesterday, and she was blunt: they won't be able to get the whole tumor out because of where it’s sitting. It's in a tough spot. We won't really know what we're actually dealing with until the pathology report on the tissue comes back.
Her vital signs are totally fine—she’s talking normally, walking around, thinking clearly. Her only real symptom was those headaches, which were absolutely brutal, but they've cleared up now. When you look at her, you honestly can't believe there's something that terrifying inside her head.😢
Maria Lee54 said:It’s been a while since I last checked in here. Last time, I mentioned things were taking a turn for the worse, and I was doing everything humanly possible to jumpstart the next phase of my treatment. I have spent exactly eighteen months waiting for a response from that clinic in Canada where I had my initial surgery. Since then, they haven't given me a single straight answer as to why they won't take me back for further treatment. To give you some context: I have a brain tumor located deep within the skull—a rare diagnosis that simply can't be treated surgically here in the States. Getting treatment in Canada was fully covered by Medicare, so there weren't any financial hurdles there, but clearly, that wasn't enough for them. It seems like because the money wasn't lining their pockets, they aren't interested in helping the person whose life might actually depend on it. My doctor showed me he knows what he's doing, but now he's just sitting around waiting. He doesn't seem to mind the wait, which is honestly pathetic. My latest MRI and angiography scans show a large tumor in the posterior fossa that absolutely requires surgery. Three different clinics were suggested, and the specialist at Mount Sinai Hospital decided on the option in Bruxell. He insists he can handle all the Medicare paperwork without an issue, explaining that performing this specific surgery here in the US isn't technically feasible. So, here I am again, facing this crushing uncertainty that I'm desperate to shake off. Now, I just have to wait and see what the options are in Bruxell and whether they will even accept me. I won't get into every single emotion swirling around inside me right now, but yesterday, I finally hit my breaking point. I broke down completely and walked through the entire hospital, sobbing my way toward the exit—something I haven't done once in these three years. I guess sometimes you just have to let it out. I was deeply moved by the compassion and genuine concern shown by my neurosurgeon; he’s a truly great man. After that, there was a bit of fear, too—I’m well aware of all the potential complications—but I’ll keep trying to stay positive, like I always do. I’ll check back in once I get the news I'm praying for regarding whether they'll take me in at Bruxell. Sending positive vibes to all of you.
