Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

It feels somewhat difficult for me to participate in this forum, though I
recall that this is perhaps the only place where I might find the specific advice I am searching for.
I have always been quite healthy, and it truly never crossed my mind that something of this nature could happen to me.
Now, I feel entirely disconnected from my life. My existence has narrowed down to just the hospital and my home. I find myself wishing to return to work, as I believe having a purpose would be far more therapeutic than this constant state of inactivity and staring into space. For instance, I spend entire days psyching myself up and preparing just to make a simple trip to the grocery store. I actually began driving about two weeks after my surgery, but the uncertainty is overwhelming. If I happen to run into someone I know, my first instinct is to flee.
I have lost all interest in purchasing things; I feel completely indifferent. When I look at my closet and realize there isn't a single thing left from this past summer—only new pajamas and robes—a wave of depression settles over me.
Here are my pathology results: Histologically, the margins show necrosis of adipose tissue with stellate histiocytes, granulation tissue with mononuclear inflammatory infiltrates, and foreign body-type granulomas.
In the remaining breast parenchyma, there are foci of adenosis with columnar metaplasia and an apocrine type of epithelium which shows focal papillary proliferation, columnar hyperplasia without epithelial atypia, cysts lined by atrophic epithelium, fibrosis, and fibroadenomatoid foci.
The skin and surgical margins show no pathological findings.
Histology verified 8 lymph nodes, all of which were free of tumor tissue.
Additionally, I am wondering... if a sentinel node biopsy had been performed prior to the operation, perhaps my recovery would be easier, as I am currently experiencing issues with my arm.
Because, if a sentinel biopsy had been done, wouldn't that have prevented the need for full axillary dissection?

After the consultation panel over at Stoneville finished their review today, my mom finally got the green light for radiation. She’s heading back home for now while we sort through all the endless paperwork, so she didn't get to stay put like we hoped. Now we’re just stuck playing the waiting game, trying to snag a radiation appointment ASAP, though word on the street is people are waiting up to three months for an opening.
That said, the neurosurgeon who handled her initial surgery is throwing a curveball by suggesting a whole new procedure. She’s saying the MRI scans are pretty murky and thinks what we're looking at might actually be a hematoma rather than a tumor, which would mean suctioning it out instead. I'm wondering if I should push for a fresh MRI before we commit to any more surgery.

Sandra Morales27 said:It’s getting tough being part of this forum, but honestly...
I honestly feel like this is the only place on the internet where I can actually get the kind of advice I’m looking for.
I’ve always been the picture of health, so I never once imagined that something like this could actually happen to me.
I’ve basically been cut off from the world lately. It’s just a constant loop between the hospital and my house. Honestly, I think getting back to work would do me more good than this endless cycle of lying around and staring at nothing. I spend my entire day psyching myself up and getting ready just to make a simple trip to Target, only to realize how much energy it takes. I actually started driving again about two weeks after my surgery, but the confidence just isn't there. Every time I see someone I know out in public, my first instinct is to bolt in the opposite direction.
I’ve lost all interest in buying anything. I'm completely checked out. Between dealing with histiocytic proliferation and granular tissue with mononuclear inflammation, looking at my closet is just exhausting. When I realize that after an entire summer, I don't have a single decent thing to wear besides a bunch of new pajamas and bathrobes, it hits me with this wave of pure depression.
Here’s what the pathology report says: The edges of the lesion show fat necrosis, along with infiltrates and foreign body-type granulomas.
The remaining breast parenchyma shows focal areas of adenosis featuring columnar metaplasia and an apocrine type of epithelium, which exhibits localized papillary proliferation. There is also evidence of columnar hyperplasia without any cellular atypia, along with cysts lined by atrophic epithelium, fibrosis, and some fibroadenomatoid lesions.
The skin and surgical margins are all clear—no signs of pathology found.
The pathology report came back on those eight lymph nodes, and it’s good news—they all came back completely clear of any cancerous tissue.
I’ve also been wondering—should they have performed a sentinel lymph node biopsy before the surgery? It would have made things a hell of a lot easier for me, because right now, I'm dealing with some real issues with my hand.
If they had actually performed a sentinel node biopsy, would they have even considered an axillary dissection in the first place?

Listen, Sandra Morales27, only people who have walked in your shoes truly understand what you’re going through. You aren't alone in this, and you definitely aren't the only one. You're part of a group of women who have been backed into a corner, forced to fight just to decide whether they’re going to keep pushing forward or if they're finally going to throw in the towel. That choice belongs entirely and exclusively to you! Those who gave up didn't make it through, but plenty of people who chose to fight have come out on the other side as winners. And look, let’s be real—nobody ever promised this would be easy. It’s brutal, sure, but it is doable. So, live! That life, that whole struggle, includes the simple stuff too—grabbing some new clothes, meeting a friend for coffee, catching a movie or a play at the local theater. You have those opportunities now, so grab them and use them. Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. All we can really do is fight for the next day.
If you need help, go out and get it. Don't just sit there—hunt down every resource available to you. There are non-profits out there designed specifically to support people in your position, and you have the entire internet at your fingertips, including forums where you can find advice, swap stories, and connect with other women living with the same skin condition. Trust me on this: those friendships aren't just temporary distractions; they are life-changing bonds that stay with you forever. No matter how bleak things look right now, there is always a way to pull something positive out of a bad situation.

Get out there and fight! No one else is going to step up and do the heavy lifting for you.

Angela Wright said:Look, Sandra Morales27, honestly, only people walking in your shoes actually get it. You aren't alone in this, and you definitely aren't the only one. You're just part of a group of women who got shoved into a corner where they have to fight just to decide if they’re going to keep pushing or just throw in the towel. At the end of the day, the call is entirely up to you. People who quit? They didn't make it through. But plenty of folks who chose to keep fighting came out the other side as winners. And yeah, it sucks. Nobody ever promised it would be easy. It’s a grind, but it can be done. Just live! Life and this whole struggle includes the small stuff too—buying some cute clothes, grabbing coffee, hitting up a movie or a play... you've got that chance now, so take it! Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. All we can really do is fight for a new day.
If things get hairy and you need help, go find it. Demand what you need. There are nonprofits out there that can step up, plus you've got the internet and forums where you can grab advice, swap stories, and meet other women dealing with the exact same thing... trust me, those friendships are the real deal and stay with you forever. No matter how ugly the situation looks, there's always something good you can squeeze out of it.

Stay tough and keep swinging! Nobody else is gonna do the heavy lifting for you, and they can't!

👍

I appreciate the support, I really do, but I was actually looking for an answer to my question!

Amanda Martinez28 said:quietraven0, how's your mom doing?
My dad is back in the hospital again.

Sorry for the late reply, my computer was acting up on me.
So, my mom is home now. She's on some heavy antibiotics, and things seem to be looking up. If everything stays on track, she might start her first round of chemo by the end of the month.
Fingers crossed!

Amanda Martinez28, I'm glad to hear your dad got admitted to the hospital; at least they can take care of him properly now, and it'll give you some peace of mind. Hang in there, and please keep us posted when you can.

quietraven0 said:Sorry I’m just getting back to you, my computer was acting up.
My mom is home now, she's on some stronger antibiotics, and things seem to be looking up. If everything stays on track, she might start her first round of chemo by the end of the month.
Fingers crossed!

Amanda Martinez28, I'm so glad your dad got admitted to the hospital. Now they can actually do what needs to be done, and you'll have a little more peace of mind. Hang in there, and please keep us posted when you can.

I'm really happy you checked in and that your mom is feeling better. Could you let me know which antibiotics she's taking?
None of the ointments seem to be working for my dad. I actually tried to take him home this morning, but they kept him there because his scan looks the same and he was vomiting yesterday, so they need to check that out too. Honestly, I don't know what to do anymore—this is just exhausting, and it feels like even the doctors are stumped. That bacteria is being so stubborn, it's scary. Please, you absolutely HAVE to take your mom to get bloodwork and a CRP test, maybe even at a private clinic, just to make sure nothing gets missed like it did with my dad and the infection comes back.

Keeping my fingers crossed that the treatment kicks in and everything goes smoothly.

Best,

Carol Mitchell86 said:After the consultation in Stoneville today, my mom finally got the green light for radiation. She's heading home now while we sort out all the paperwork—she couldn't stay at the hospital right away, unfortunately. Now we just need to scramble to get her a radiation appointment ASAP. They mentioned some people are waiting up to three months, which is terrifying.
But here's the thing: the neurosurgeon who did her first surgery is suggesting a whole new plan. She thinks the MRI scans aren't clear enough and suspects it might actually be a hematoma rather than a tumor, so she wants to go in and suction it out instead. What do you guys think? Should I push for a new MRI before they proceed with any surgery?

Sent you a DM.

Sandra Morales27 said:I appreciate the support, but I was looking for an actual answer to my question!

Look, I gave you the answer based on what I know and what I believe is most critical here. As for the technical medical specifics, you really need to get those straight from your own doctor.

It appears I may have fundamentally misunderstood the purpose of this space; I was under the impression that this was a venue for receiving professional guidance.
As I continue my reading—I have just reached page 36, if I recall correctly—I find myself somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the struggle described and the heavy nature of it all. I must say, I feel a profound sense of admiration for you, Angela Wright, for your sheer persistence; the way you managed to find the strength to press on with this forum despite everything you have endured...
You truly have my utmost respect!

Hey everyone...
I’ve been gone for a while because I honestly didn't know what to say....
I finally worked up the nerve to check back in..
So...
My mom's primary cancer (adenocarcinoma) was actually stabilized by chemo and isn't growing. BUT—metastases in her brain have flared up. There are three: two in the cerebrum and one in the cerebellum.
In just one month, she went from being active to bedridden. She can't walk anymore—clearly, those metastases hit her balance and gait hard—and now she's so weak she can only eat pureed food or be fed manually. 😢😢😢
The disease just won. We did everything we could... doctors gave her two months, and she managed to stretch it to six...

Meanwhile, I had my baby. My mom became a grandmother to a little girl whom (life is full of ironies, right?) she never actually got to meet..

I kept sending her photos of Lara.. I planned to visit her (since she's out of state), but at first, I couldn't go because I was postpartum—she was staying with my sister under home care. Once I was physically able to travel, Mom was admitted to the pulmonary ward at the hospital, so she couldn't leave. — It's just not meant to be. 😢

Then I started asking some questions that probably sounded irrational... I just wanted her to see her granddaughter, but the pediatricians wouldn't budge. You can't bring a newborn into the hospital—infants aren't allowed in, especially since the baby isn't fully vaccinated yet. They don't want the child exposed to any bacteria or viruses. Even if Mom isn't contagious, the baby is still vulnerable to things like tuberculosis or various viral pneumonias.. it's a non-starter. They said I could visit, but only with a mask, and I'd have to decontaminate afterward—rinse my nose with saline, use Betadine mouthwash, take some propolis, and shower before touching the baby.

My "stupid" question was whether they could just wheel Mom outside in a wheelchair so she could see the baby for a moment. The answer was NO. She's too weak and could catch something herself, plus they cited "patient dignity" regarding her condition.

So, there it is... life is strange. But I'm glad she saw the pictures of her granddaughter. I'm glad she got to return to her hometown to be with her siblings at the end. And I'm glad we acted immediately once the tumor was found....

I'm heading to the pediatrician today. If the little one is doing okay, I'll get her vaccinations tomorrow and stay close by for a couple of days to monitor any reactions.. and if God wills it, I'll head to see Mom on Saturday for one last visit...

I'm hoping I'm lucky enough to find her still with us and that she recognizes me....

We had so many plans.. this is incredibly hard to write.... so many plans.... but like the old saying goes: Man proposes, God disposes.

Susan Diaz91 said:Hey everyone...
I’ve been MIA for a while because I honestly didn't know what to say....
But I finally worked up the nerve to check back in..
So...
Thanks to chemo, my mom's primary cancer (adenocarcinoma) is localized and hasn't grown. BUT, the metastases in her brain have flared up—she has three now, two in the cerebrum and one in the cerebellum.
In just one month, Mom went from being active to being bedridden. She can't walk anymore—obviously, those metastases messed with her balance and gait—and now she’s so weak she can only eat pureed food. 😢😢😢
The disease just took its course, despite everything we tried. Doctors gave her two months, but she managed to push it to six...

In the midst of all this, I gave birth. My mother became a grandmother to a little girl whom—by some cruel irony of life—she won't even get to see...

I sent her photos of Lara... I planned to visit her (since she's out of state), but at first, I couldn't go because I was in the postpartum period and recovering from birth (while Mom was under home care with my sister). By the time I was physically able to travel, Mom had been admitted to the hospital's pulmonary ward, so she couldn't leave. It's just not meant to be. 😢

Then I started asking some questions that probably sounded irrational. All I wanted was for my mother to lay eyes on her grandchild, but the pediatricians stood their ground. You can't bring a newborn into a hospital setting—they don't allow infants in due to the risk of infection. Even if your mother isn't contagious, a baby is vulnerable to everything from tuberculosis to various viral pneumonias and strep. They wouldn't allow it. You can visit her, sure, but you have to wear a mask, decontaminate by rinsing your nose with saline, gargling with antiseptic, and taking supplements, and then shower before touching the baby.

My "stupid" question was whether we could just wheel Mom outside in a stroller so she could see the baby for a moment. The answer was a flat NO. She's too frail and could catch something out there, plus they cited the dignity of the patient and the nature of her illness.

So, here we are... life is strange. But I'm grateful she saw the pictures of her granddaughter, and I'm grateful she gets to pass away in her hometown surrounded by her siblings. I'm also glad we jumped on things the second the tumor was discovered....

I'm heading to the pediatrician today. If the little one is doing okay, I'll get her vaccinated tomorrow and stay close by for a couple of days to watch for any reactions... and if God wills it, I'll head to see Mom on Saturday for one last goodbye...

I'm just hoping I arrive in time to find her still with us and that she recognizes me....

We had so many plans... it's incredibly hard to write this... so many plans... but as the old saying goes: "Man proposes, God disposes."

Lara, I am so deeply sorry things have turned out this way. 😢
You are in my prayers, and I'm leaning on faith and hope that you'll reach her in time and that she'll be able to hold her granddaughter in her arms. I truly believe she is holding on for that very moment.
Be at peace; you really have done everything possible.

I sent you a DM, but I guess you're just too busy right now.

Since you hadn't checked in here, I figured everything was fine—assuming Mom was enjoying her time with Taylor Swift—but clearly, I was wrong.😢 I feel terrible that she missed seeing you, especially given everything you’ve been through lately. Regarding the hospitals, they’re being incredibly strict about letting babies in; they wouldn't even let me bring my Taylor Swift when I went to visit Grandma last time...
I really hope Mom is still around by the time you make it back so you can see her.
Hang in there—sending love.😍

Taylor Swift,
your story really hit home for me.
I’m thinking of you guys, and I’m joining everyone else in sending up prayers—fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly this Saturday.

Can anyone tell me if they've actually tried this medication and where I can even track it down?
Thanks.

Carol Mitchell86 said:Can someone please tell me if they've actually used this medication? Also, does anyone know where I can pick some up?
Thanks.

Go ask over on the holistic health forums; those folks usually have a better handle on this kind of stuff.

Dear Lara.
We haven’t actually met before, and I don't think we've ever really chatted on here, but I just finished reading your post and felt this sudden, overwhelming urge to reach out...
I have to tell you, your words truly touched my heart, and if I weren't currently at work, I'm certain I would be sitting there in tears...
I find myself dropping posts in this thread from time to time because I deal with such similar struggles myself, specifically regarding my own mother, who is battling breast cancer that has unfortunately spread to her lymph nodes...
I won't linger or bore you with too much of my own heaviness, but I can completely empathize with your deep longing for your mom to finally get to meet little Lara...
I just find myself hoping that my mother will one day live to see her grandchildren, though sadly, nothing like that has happened yet...
I mainly wanted to let you know that there are so many people walking a similar path right now, and while I know how incredibly difficult it is, they say a kind word is worth its weight in gold... So, please accept these few positive thoughts to help you navigate this season—which is so heavy because of your mom's illness, yet so beautiful because of the birth of your baby girl...
Having the support of family, and even women on this forum (even those I don't personally know), means the world to me, and I truly believe it means just as much to you...
I will be sure to keep both you and your mother in my prayers as I pray for my own mom...
Sending kisses to you and little Lara...

Linda Cox69

Thanks, Linda Cox69, thanks, Angela Wright, and thanks to everyone else for the kind words.

My brother just called me... he spoke with her doctor... apparently, they managed to stop the primary cancer, but the metastases have spread everywhere—to her brain and bones.😢
The part that’s honestly fascinating—and totally baffling to the medical staff—is that my mom isn't in any pain. No one can wrap their heads around it. They aren't even giving her a single sedative. Usually, lung cancer is incredibly painful, but she feels nothing, which is what's so confusing.

I'm planning to head out this Saturday to visit her... I'm going to see her, hold her, and say my goodbyes.
She asked if Lara would be coming too. They told her Lara isn't allowed in the hospital... just me.
I'm hoping and praying to God 🙂 that my mother is still waiting for me so we can say our farewells.😢 🙂

I am honestly so sorry, Lara.
I really don't know if there's anything at all—any specific word or gesture—that could truly make this difficult situation any easier for you...
My heart goes out to you and your mother.
Sending some positive vibes your way to help find a little bit of courage~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Please, just hang in there...

Hey Lara! I’m still pretty new to this forum—I mean, I read it all the time, but I didn't actually join until almost a year ago when my dad was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. Sadly, he passed away three months ago 😢. Just like your mom, my dad didn't seem to be in any pain at all, which honestly left us all completely blindsided. It's only now that I'm starting to realize just how much he might have been suffering. Near the end, they found metastases in his hip bone, but even then, he insisted he wasn't hurting—at least, that's what he told us. They had him on a ton of painkillers at the hospital, so he was basically totally out of it, and once he finally came home, he wouldn't even touch his drinks. I don't really know what else to say besides hang in there—take care of your mom and soak up every second with your little one!