Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Rebecca Chavez85 said:I’m pretty much signing off on everything here. Look, the reality is that if you’re just looking at pure survival rates, in my book, there isn't any hope left. Honestly, the only "hope" people get is that fake stuff doctors feed you just to cover their own backs. Sure, there are exceptions, but whatever.

That’s just not fair. Not when you consider all of us—the patients and the families stuck in this whole mess! We’re all out here fighting, all of us holding onto some kind of hope. It’s literally all we have left.
And what even is "survival" anyway?? Healthy people go through life and "survive" things every single day.
If my doctor gives me a reason to keep going, or if they actually step up and try to help, I don't see them as being selfish. I’m grateful for them.
Given how many sick people are following this forum, it really isn't—seriously, it isn't!—fair to just say there’s no hope.

Rebecca Chavez85 said:I’m pretty much nodding along to all of this. Real talk: when it comes down to just surviving, I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel. Honestly, those tiny bits of hope people talk about? Usually just some fake stuff doctors feed you because they want to look good or cover their own tracks. Sure, there are exceptions, but they're rare.

One more thing:
don't ever go stripping someone of their hope. It might be the only thing they've actually got left.

My dear friends.
It has been quite a while since I last checked in, and though I haven’t posted, please know I have been quietly reading everything you all have to say...
My heart truly goes out to everyone here who has lost someone they love...

I felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch upon that concept of hope that you all keep mentioning...
I completely agree that holding onto hope is such a vital part of life...
Those of you who know my situation know that we have been fighting a very difficult battle with my mom’s breast cancer...

At first, the initial prognosis was nothing short of devastating. The doctors laid everything out for us, focusing heavily on the clinical side—you know, the cold statistics and the grim outlooks tied specifically to her diagnosis...
I have to admit, that was my very first instinctual reaction too; once we heard the news, all I could think about was the prognosis, what the survival rates were, and what kind of life we could realistically expect...
But today, my entire perspective has shifted...
I find myself not caring one bit about the statistics or the numbers anymore, nor the averages or the data points. All that matters to me is my mom—how her treatment is progressing and how she is responding to the therapy...
Thank God, things are moving in a better direction. She has finished chemo, underwent surgery on her breast (they removed 16 lymph nodes, and thankfully, they were all negative🙂), and she just got her schedule for radiation...
She is feeling good, and honestly, she looks wonderful. We are doing everything in our power to support her, and her own outlook on life is so incredibly positive, which I truly believe makes a massive difference in how a person handles a disease like this. Our little dog is her emotional outlet, our family is her rock, and the doctors are true experts in their field...
We are fully aware that cancer is a sneaky, treacherous thing that can flare up at any moment, but we are trying our best not to dwell on those fears. Most of the heavy lifting regarding her treatment is behind us now, and the doctors seem very pleased with her progress...We are just hoping that the monster has been completely wiped out and that we will be granted many more years to spend together...

Sending so much positive energy to every single one of you~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kisses

My mom’s stuck in the hospital dealing with some neurological issues, and honestly, I’m just spinning. She had an MRI on Thursday, and the results show the tumor has already doubled in size since her surgery—and we’re only twenty days out from that. It’s hard to wrap my head around how fast this thing can move, it’s terrifying. The doctors are basically just shrugging their shoulders at us now, telling us there isn't much left to do except try to manage the pain and the headaches. I feel completely lost, like I'm just standing here watching everything fall apart without a clue what to do next.

Honestly, everyone, I’ve been scrolling through some of your posts and I am just at a loss for words—it’s been weighing on me for quite a while now...

Since there are so many pages here and our time is limited, please forgive me if my question has already been addressed somewhere else...

Here is the situation we are facing:
- My mother-in-law underwent a right-side mastectomy two years ago.
- They have now found metastases in her lungs and brain, so she is currently undergoing a new round of chemotherapy and radiation.
- This Friday, after being hospitalized for two weeks due to a rib issue, they are discharging her. The problem is that she is completely overwhelmed; she lives more like a tenant than a homeowner and requires constant medical supervision.
- As a temporary fix, we managed to secure a spot in a facility near Columbus for one month, but the real question is what happens after that...
- She cannot be left alone in an apartment. We are also renters ourselves, and regardless of how much we want to help, we simply aren't equipped to provide the level of care she needs. She is 59, so she doesn't qualify for state-run facilities (where you'd end up waiting years anyway—time we don't have).
- Does anyone have information on where we could place her that offers adequate medical care? Right now, we are touring private assisted living facilities, but the whole system is a mess and the prices are absolutely astronomical.
- She is lucid and semi-mobile, but she definitely needs professional medical attention.

I am asking anyone who might have an idea or knows of a reliable, high-quality private care facility to please help us out with your advice.

Thank you so much, and good luck to all the fighters... and to those of you caring for them.

Linda Cox69 said:Hey everyone.
Been MIA for a bit, haven't posted, but I've been lurking and reading everything you guys say.
My heart goes out to anyone here who’s lost someone close lately...

I felt like I needed to jump in because of this whole "hope" thing people keep bringing up.
And honestly? Yeah, hope matters. It really does.
Anyone who actually knows me knows we've been going through hell dealing with my mom's breast cancer.

At first, the prognosis was pretty damn grim. The doctors gave us the straight facts—you know, all those cold statistics and survival rates tied to her specific diagnosis.
I'll admit, that was my first instinct too. Once the news hits, all you can think about is: what's the outlook? What kind of life expectancy are we looking at?
But things have shifted for me now.
I don't give a damn about the stats anymore. Forget the numbers or the averages. All I care about is my mom—how she's doing, how the treatment is hitting, and if she's handling the therapy okay.
Thank God, things are looking up. She finished chemo, had surgery on the breast (they cleared 16 lymph nodes—all negative, thank goodness🙂), and just got her radiation schedule set.
She feels good, looks good. We're giving her everything we've got to support her. Her attitude is incredibly positive, and I swear, that mindset plays a huge part in how you deal with this whole mess. Her dog is her emotional outlet, family is her rock, and the doctors are top-tier specialists.
We know cancer is a sneaky bastard and it can flare up anytime, but we're trying not to dwell on that. Most of the heavy lifting with treatment is done. The docs are happy with the progress.We're just hoping that little monster is dead and gone for good so we can get back to living our lives together for years to come.

Sending nothing but good vibes to everyone~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kisses

Bravo Vita!
That's us too, not even thinking about whether or when the sickness might try to pull a comeback. Right now, things are good, and we're also hoping my husband is the one who finally kicked that thing's ass!
Big hugs to all the fighters out there!

Carol Mitchell86 said:My mom ended up stuck in the hospital for neurology because the pain was just too much. She had an MRI on Thursday, and get this—it shows the tumor is actually twice the size it was before surgery. And that’s only been 20 days since they operated. I can't wrap my head around how that thing can grow that fast. It's insane. The doctors are basically just shrugging their shoulders now, telling us there isn't anything else they can do besides managing the pain and her headaches. I'm honestly at a loss. I don't even know what to do anymore.

I am so incredibly sorry for you and your mom. You've gotta stay strong through this. Just be there for her as much as you possibly can and let her feel how much you love her. Hold her hand... people always say a little physical connection helps with healing.
This has to be such a heavy weight to carry. Sending a massive hug your way. Hang in there.

Megan Phillips9 said:Hey everyone, I’ve been reading through some of your posts and honestly, I’m just at a loss for words. It’s been weighing on me for a while now...

Since there are so many pages here and we're all running on empty, sorry if I'm asking something that was already answered somewhere else...

Here’s the deal:
- My mother-in-law had a mastectomy on her right breast two years ago.
- Now they've found metastases in her lungs and brain, so she's going through another round of chemo and radiation.
- This Friday, after spending two weeks in the hospital, they’re discharging her, but the issue is she’s totally overwhelmed—she lives like a renter and needs constant medical supervision.
- For now, we managed to snag a spot in a facility near Columbus for a month, but the big question is what happens after that...
- She can't be alone in an apartment; we're renters too and we aren't equipped to handle her care, no matter how much we want to, even though she's only 59 and doesn't qualify for state-run nursing homes (where you end up waiting years anyway, which we don't have).
- Does anyone have info on where we could place her that actually provides decent care? We're checking out private facilities right now, but it's a total mess and the prices are absolutely astronomical.
- She's lucid and semi-mobile, but she definitely needs medical attention.

If anyone has any ideas or knows a reliable, high-quality private care home, please help us out with some advice..

Thanks so much, and good luck to all the fighters... and to those of you taking care of them..

Maybe the best move is having her stay with you guys. She'd feel way more secure, because let's face it, she's probably terrified. Chemo kicks your teeth in—the nausea, the weakness... I don't think anyone could be dearer to her in those moments than family. My husband went through all those treatments too; I was working, so I couldn't be by his side 24/7. But for him, just being home, in his own bed, surrounded by family instead of strangers, was enough. I always look at it this way: how I’d want people to treat me if I got sick—and that’s exactly how I acted toward my husband.
I don't know how your mother-in-law managed living without medical care before... I don't know, just think about it... She's the one going through the hardest part.

Carol Mitchell86 said:My mother ended up stuck in the hospital for neurology because the pain was just too much to handle. She had an MRI follow-up this past Thursday, and it turns out the tumor is already twice the size it was before surgery—and it’s only been twenty days since they operated. It’s terrifying how fast this thing can move. The doctors are basically just shrugging their shoulders at us now, telling us there’s nothing left to do except try to manage her headaches and the pain. I am completely lost on what our next move should be.

If I were in your shoes, I’d be pushing hard for radiation therapy and Temodal; those are standard options patients with a diagnosis like this are entitled to. Whether a tumor is considered inoperable or it’s already been surgically removed, that treatment path remains an option. There is absolutely no excuse for the medical team to just shrug their shoulders. They either need to follow the established protocols or provide a damn good, logical explanation for why they aren't.
In the meantime, you absolutely have to get those scans sent over to Washington, D.C. for a second opinion!

Lisa White54 said:One more thing:
Never strip someone of their hope; it might be the only thing they have left!

Dear Lisa!

I am certainly not in the business of stripping anyone of their hope, though sadly, I speak from a lifetime of bitter experience.
One day, you will finally understand what I meant!

Lisa White54😘

Major props to you for having such courage😍fighters like you really give us all something to look up to, and honestly, you're such an inspiration to this whole community...👍

Lisa White54 said:It might actually be best if she stays there with you. She would likely feel much more secure, especially since she’s probably terrified right now. Chemotherapy can be brutal, bringing on all sorts of side effects like nausea and sheer exhaustion... I honestly don't think anyone could offer her more comfort in those moments than her own family. When my husband was going through his various treatments, I was working full-time and couldn't be by his side every single second. But for him, just being at home, resting in his own bed surrounded by his family rather than being stuck among strangers, made all the difference. I always try to approach these decisions from this perspective: how I would want people to treat me if I were the one facing an illness—so that’s the standard I set for how I supported my husband.
I'm not quite sure how your mother-in-law managed without medical supervision in the past... I don't know, just something to consider. She's the one going through the hardest part here.

Lisa, I second everything you just said. Our experiences are so similar, and it seems we view these situations almost identically.

Rebecca Chavez85 said:Hey, Lisa White54!

Look, I'm not trying to rain on anyone's parade here. I'm just speaking from experience, and honestly, reality can be a bitch.
One of these days, you’re gonna look back and realize exactly what I was getting at.

I'm sorry you're going through this loss. I get it—you probably held onto hope until the very last second, and now you're just left feeling bitter and miserable because things didn't go your way. That's why you're posting like this, coming from a place of pure resentment.
But personally? I'm not about giving up hope. As long as there's even a tiny chance to see tomorrow, I'm taking it.
I've seen too many sick people pass away, unfortunately. Way too many gone far too soon. Life isn't fair—it doesn't follow any rules, and it sure as hell doesn't care about justice. All we really have is hope and finding some small reason to smile for making it through another day.
I know we're all mortal. We're all eventually headed for the exit, one way or another... But while we're still breathing, we live. We fight.
Later, everyone.

Lisa White54 said:I am so incredibly sorry for the loss you've had to endure. I truly believe you were holding onto hope until the very last second, and it makes total sense that you’re feeling such bitterness and sadness over this lost battle, which is clearly why your recent words felt so heavy with that frustration...
But none of us want to give up on hope, especially when there is still a way to embrace the beauty of the precious day ahead of us tomorrow...
Unfortunately, I have known far too many people struggling with illness. So many have been taken from us far too soon... There is no justice in it, I know, and there are no rules to follow... All we really have left is hope, and finding small moments of joy in every single new day that we are lucky enough to see...
I am deeply aware that we are all mortal, that eventually, we will all have to move on one way or another... But as long as we are breathing, we live, and we keep fighting...
Sending my best to everyone...

👍

Not much has changed on our end, though we did spend some time today with the neurosurgeon who handled my mom's surgery. She’s feeling up for another reduction, and there’s actually a decent chance that what the MRI is flagging as tumor tissue is just swelling—basically a hematoma from the initial procedure. So, I guess there's still a glimmer of hope left in this mess. She’s heading to Stoneville tomorrow for a consultation with the specialists, and once she's back and the surgeon gets their take on things, we'll start figuring out the details for the next surgery.
Mom is doing alright; she can't quite get up on her own yet, but she can shuffle around a bit if we help her, and thankfully, she isn't in much pain.

Dropped a few more pounds...😢
...hey everyone...
The grind continues...

Carol Mitchell86 said:A few updates from our end. We met with my mother's neurosurgeon today, and there’s actually some light at the end of the tunnel. She mentioned that my mom might be ready for another reduction surgery. More importantly, what looked like tumor tissue on the MRI might actually just be swelling—basically a hematoma caused by the previous surgery. So, there's still hope. Tomorrow, she’s heading to Stoneville for a consultation with a specialist panel. Once they get back and the surgeon weighs in on their findings, we'll start planning the next procedure.
Mom is doing better; she can't stand up on her own yet, but she can shuffle around a bit if we help her, and thankfully, she isn't in much pain.

You can actually reduce a hematoma using intravenous dexamethasone and mannitol. If the issue involves hydrocephalus—meaning fluid buildup—they could potentially implant a shunt (a little pump that drains the fluid into the stomach to relieve pressure), or they might just perform a one-time puncture to drain the fluid.

Thanks a million for the heads-up, Angela Wright.

goldenharbor42 said:lost a few more pounds again....😢
...hugs to everyone....
the grind continues...

Have you tried using that Megostat syrup? It actually works. It helped my husband out big time. It really kicked his appetite back into gear and he finally started putting some meat on his bones.

goldenharbor42 said:I've dropped a few more pounds....😢
...sending love to everyone....
the fight continues...

I’m not entirely sure if you’re taking anything specific to support your immune system right now, but I really think a B-complex vitamin would be worth adding to your routine. It isn't particularly expensive, and I've heard from several people that it can actually help with weight maintenance.
Are the doctors still struggling to pin down the actual cause of everything?