Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

I caught that segment on Focus last night; it was incredibly gripping, though it felt far too short. I’m genuinely relieved to see some actual momentum finally building regarding cancer prevention and treatment protocols. My only gripe was that one specialist from San Francisco—his commentary left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth. The program hit me harder emotionally than I expected; I couldn't help but think about how much my mother would have enjoyed watching it, and all the sharp critiques she would've offered if she were still here.

Way to go, ladies! Honestly, watching the show made me so proud to be part of this association. Even though I’m not exactly out there doing the heavy lifting just yet, I’m just really happy to be on the team!

I have to admit, the sheer calmness of the guests in the studio caught me off guard. It’s a shame I didn't manage to press the issue regarding those medications that aren't covered on the approved list.

It felt like the moderator was being a bit too soft on everyone...

At least we showed some teeth to the Department of Health and Human Services. I just hope they realized we aren't pushovers and won't sit idly by while they try to treat us like fools.

slyseal28 said:I have to admit, I was genuinely taken aback by how calm everyone stayed during the studio session. It was surprisingly composed. My only real regret is that I didn't manage to dig deeper into the whole issue regarding medications that aren't covered on the approved list. It’s one of those bureaucratic hurdles that feels like trying to navigate a maze with no exit, and I really should have pressed the point.

I couldn't help but feel that the moderator was being a bit too soft there... It’s almost like watching a referee in a championship game decide to let everyone just play through the fouls instead of actually enforcing the rules. You expect a certain level of firmness to keep things from spiraling, but this felt more like a polite suggestion than actual leadership.

We certainly gave the Department of Health a run for their money. I can only hope they took the hint and realized we aren't exactly pushovers—and we certainly won't sit idly by while they try to treat us like a bunch of amateurs.

Kudos to you, slyseal28! I caught the broadcast yesterday, and honestly, we are all so incredibly proud of you. You absolutely had to show him who's boss—sometimes you just have to put your foot down and let them know you aren't playing around. Well done.
I wish you nothing but the very best.

Kate Watson53 said:I recently lost my dad to pancreatic cancer. It was an exhausting, brutal nine-month battle. Everyone here knows that specific kind of helplessness—that feeling when you’d give anything, even your own life, just to take away their pain, but you can't. To everyone still in the thick of it right now: I am sending you all the strength in the world. Please, hang in there and fight for them, because miracles really do happen. They told my dad he wouldn't even make it out of the hospital, yet we managed to have eight more beautiful months together. Every single day felt like a small miracle. Even though he's gone, I truly feel his presence watching over me.

My heart goes out to you; please know you aren't alone and he'll always be looking out for you.
Stay strong.

I caught the broadcast as well, and I have nothing but praise for everyone involved. slyseal28, you truly impressed me with how calm, intelligent, and well-reasoned your responses were. Personally, I’ve had quite positive experiences with the healthcare system in these matters. My husband was told he needed surgery based on his first CT scan back on October 12, 2006, and by November 10 of that same year, he was already in the operating room. In that short window, he managed to complete his CT puncture, abdominal scans, and every other necessary test. Everything moved at a record pace, all while being handled through outpatient services. Once the surgery was over, he received four rounds of chemotherapy without us ever having to wait for any sort of administrative board to sign off. As soon as the medical team decided he needed treatment, they would just coordinate with the head nurse, and he would receive the Gemzar and cisplatin the hospital had on hand immediately—there was no waiting for some committee to approve that specific medication for him. This all took place at a major hospital in San Francisco. So, what the doctor from San Francisco was saying was absolutely true. That is exactly how things ought to work. Patients already have enough to fight with the illness itself; they shouldn't have to battle bureaucracy on top of it.

slyseal28 said:I have to admit, the guests were surprisingly chill in the studio. I'm just bummed I didn't get a chance to bring up the issue with all those drugs that aren't covered on the formulary.

It felt like the host was being a little too soft, don't you think?

At least we showed the Department of Health that we've got some teeth. Hopefully they realized we aren't just going to sit back and let them treat us like idiots.

Nice work.
I caught the segment, and honestly, the Undersecretary's attitude was a joke. It’s unbelievable—it's like those people are living on Mars instead of in America!

Anyway, keep fighting the good fight, you guys are definitely on the right track.👍

rapidbear8 As stated by...
Thanks...
My father wasn't able to overcome that relentless illness, but... I truly wish you all nothing but the best and am sending plenty of healing vibes your way...

If I recall correctly, he was using that micro... what was the term again? Apparently, they say that specific design is the absolute worst...😢
His situation was even more dire because surgery on his lungs wasn't even an option; the spirometry results showed he was far too weak, leaving everyone terrified that he simply wouldn't wake up from the anesthesia...
The brain surgery was successfully performed here in Chicago using Gamma Knife technology, but as for the lungs... well, we simply weren't able to proceed with that...
They said he was just a minor nuisance, but in reality, he was incredibly dangerous and truly malicious...😢
My mother and brother were informed right away; the doctor told them straight out that Dad only had about six months left... yet they saw fit to spare me from such a devastating truth, leaving me to find out only now...
My father was a true fighter. He never complained, never made a scene about his suffering... nothing could break his spirit. Until he started chemotherapy, he was doing remarkably well. I mean, just two months ago, we were out riding our motorcycles together, enjoying the open road, and then... everything changed. It became a daily cycle of new setbacks. It was a massive shock to me, and even more so to him, when he woke up one morning in the hospital and simply said, "I can't feel my legs." It was devastating... that kind of numbness... the neurologist explained it was because the condition had spread to the bone...
Yesterday he just collapsed into a coma... I tried everything to get a reaction out of him, but nothing works... He’s breathing, yet there isn't any sensation left, not even that agonizing pain he was in before... which is a small mercy, I suppose... People tell me he can still hear me, so I just sat there talking to him, holding him... I even left the radio playing softly so he'd have some music...
I was just asking my mother how much longer her heart can possibly endure this kind of strain... around 8:00 PM that evening, his heart simply stopped... and then he fell asleep... now, there isn't even any more pain left for him...

😢😢

Unfortunately, there was simply no other way for things to unfold... 😢 Realizing the actual diagnosis from the very beginning might have crushed you entirely, making this loss even harder to bear than it already is...

I didn't learn about my grandfather's lung cancer until four or five months into his diagnosis, when my father finally called me aside to say he wanted us to have a private conversation... I couldn't quite grasp what they were trying to shield me from until they led me into the room, sat me down, and left the two of us alone to say our goodbyes. It was devastating to realize just a month later that there was nothing more we could do after he passed away... If I had known from the very beginning, I suspect the weight of it would have been even harder to bear. In my mother's case, they protected me as well, and I truly hold no resentment toward them for it... I only wish I could have played a larger role in her treatment process, if only so I might share the ways she fought so successfully, and continues to fight, with others...

No matter how heavy the weight of this loss feels right now, every single word you write radiates such profound love and pride... please, just hold onto that image of the fighter he was, and carry forward everything he left behind in his legacy. As you so beautifully put it, he isn't in pain anymore. I truly believe you'll find one another again, somewhere in another world entirely—a place far removed from all this suffering, filled only with peace and joy...

Hang in there...

Kate Watson53 said:I recently lost my father to pancreatic cancer. It was a grueling, exhausting nine-month battle. We all know that specific, helpless feeling when you would give your own life just to spare someone else... so to everyone currently walking this path, I wish you an abundance of strength to endure it all and pull your loved ones back from the brink, because miracles truly do happen. They told my dad he wouldn't even make it out of the hospital, yet we fought for eight more months after that. Every single day felt like a small miracle. Even though he's gone, I know he's still right here with me, watching over me.

Please accept my deepest condolences for the loss of your father; please remain forever mindful of your own courage, the depth of your love, and everything that sustained you during such a difficult fight. Have faith that you are not alone and that support will always be there... stay strong.

fajterica The user states:
I must admit, I was somewhat taken aback by how remarkably composed the guests remained throughout the studio session... It is truly a pity that I didn't manage to press the issue regarding those medications that aren't covered by the approved formulary...

It strikes me that the host was perhaps a bit too lenient...

We certainly gave the Department of Health a run for their money... I can only hope they finally realized we aren't easily intimidated, nor will we sit idly by while they attempt to treat us like amateurs...

Unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to catch the broadcast myself, though my parents made sure to tune in... Kudos to everyone involved for all the hard work put into this. I happened to catch a preview featuring you earlier this afternoon, and honestly, I am quite speechless at the sheer amount of strength you possess... Thank you for everything...

It’s funny how we all approach these discussions differently, isn't it? Some people dive straight into the fray with such intensity, while others prefer to sit back and observe the landscape before making a move. I've always found that there is a certain quiet strength in being methodical—taking the time to weigh the nuances rather than just reacting to the immediate noise. It reminds me of how a seasoned chess player approaches a match; they aren't looking for the quickest strike, but rather the most sustainable path to victory through patience and foresight. kaže:
I have to admit, I was genuinely taken aback by how calm and composed the guests remained during our studio session. It was quite unexpected. My only real regret is that I didn't manage to pivot the conversation toward the issue of medications that aren't currently covered by the approved formulary; it's a critical gap that we really ought to address.

I couldn't help but feel that the host was being a bit too soft during the segment...

We certainly gave the Department of Health a run for their money. I truly hope they took note of our resolve and realized that we aren't going to sit idly by while they try to treat us like we don't know any better.

Keep up the great work, everyone—this is exactly the kind of momentum we need. I find myself checking this forum daily, much like I follow the updates from our local advocacy group. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the rising numbers regarding new diagnoses and fatalities; unfortunately, it seems quite likely that even more people will be facing this malicious disease in the near future. Last night, I was watching a broadcast that touched on the critical importance of prevention and early detection. In my view, the American healthcare system needs to take these issues far more seriously and begin implementing meaningful changes immediately.

Unfortunately, I missed the show. I don't really sit around watching TV much, and besides, I turned in early because I have to be up at 4:00 AM for work. Tomorrow, the doctors are calling me in to talk about my dad. Honestly, I’m 99% sure I already know what they're going to say: Van from the hospital.
I actually went to see another oncologist to get a second opinion, and he basically told me there isn't much left to be done. They mentioned chemo, but even that’s a long shot since the radiation narrowed the veins in his neck. Still, you never know—every body reacts differently, so I guess that's our one tiny sliver of hope. But man, he's just too weak for chemo.
The hardest part of all of this isn't even the medical stuff; it's that my dad thinks he’s going to die tomorrow. He’s just lost his will to fight. I keep trying to hammer it into him—telling him not to give up, telling him he needs to stay alive just to spite that jerk of a doctor for another year. (I think the main doctor is on vacation right now because they scheduled me with some other guy I've never met. I seriously hope that bastard gets eaten by a shark while he's out swimming in the ocean.)

dustyranger11 said:Unfortunately, I missed the program because I rarely watch television, and I turned in early since I have to be up at 4:00 AM for work. Tomorrow, the doctors are calling me in for a meeting regarding my father. I am ninety-nine percent certain I already know what they will say... Van from the hospital...
I actually sought out a second oncologist to get a different perspective; he informed me that there isn't much that can be done. Chemotherapy is the only option left, though even that seems unlikely to succeed given that radiation has constricted the veins in his neck; then again, one never knows how an individual body might react, so it remains our sole, slim glimmer of hope. But he is quite frail for chemo...
The most difficult part of all is that my father believes he will pass away tomorrow; he simply lacks the will to live, despite my constant attempts to convince him not to give up—to show that bastard of a doctor that he can hold on for at least another year. I suspect the doctor is on vacation, as I was scheduled to see someone else entirely, a stranger to me, and I find myself hoping that particular doctor gets eaten by a shark while he's out swimming...

😢 I am truly sorry that things aren't different and that your father is struggling to find his strength... I sincerely hope that tomorrow brings a different outcome.

Try to support him and provide him with strength, perhaps using those very words you just shared. You have a difficult day ahead of you, so please try to endure it with composure... Stay strong.

Hi there. I have two questions:
Since the worst stuff rarely hurts right away, can sudden weight loss be one of those early warning signs that a malignant tumor is developing?
Is rapid weight loss strictly linked to things like TB or cancer?
Thanks

It’s not necessarily a given—like, an overactive thyroid can definitely cause weight loss, and diabetes basically "eats away" at you too. But honestly, if you have even a tiny doubt that something isn't right, I guess you should just go all out and get checked immediately to figure out what's actually going on, no matter what it turns out to be.

Kate Watson53 said:I recently lost my dad to pancreatic cancer, and honestly, it was just this grueling, exhausting nine-month battle. I think everyone here understands that specific kind of helplessness—that feeling when you’d give anything, your entire life, just to fix it for them, but you can't. So, to anyone else currently in the thick of it, I just want to send you all so much strength; please hang in there and keep fighting for your loved ones, because miracles really do happen. They told my dad he wouldn't even make it out of the hospital, yet we managed to have eight more months together. Every single day felt like a tiny miracle in its own way. Even though he's gone now, I truly believe he’s still right here by my side, watching over me.

Please accept my deepest, most sincere condolences.

I have no doubt that your dad is still walking right beside you. 🙂

David Jackson79 said:Hi there. I have two questions:
Since the worst stuff almost never hurts right at the start, can the first signs of a malignant tumor be guessed by whether someone is losing weight rapidly?
Is sudden weight loss only related to TB or cancer?
Thanks

If you’re seeing a sudden, unexplained drop on the scale, it’s definitely a sign that you need to go see a doctor, because even if it isn't something malicious, it certainly means something is going on inside your body.

David Jackson79 said:Hello. I have two questions:
Since the most severe issues rarely hurt right at the beginning, could the initial symptoms of a malignant tumor be suspected if a person experiences rapid weight loss?
Is sudden weight loss exclusive to tuberculosis or malignant cancer?
Thank you

Yesterday, while discussing my mother's diet with my father, he recalled a specific warning his doctor gave him following surgery: "If she ever starts losing weight abruptly, it's a sign that something is wrong internally, and you need to contact a physician immediately."

It doesn't necessarily have to be cancer, as there is an entire spectrum of factors that can influence body weight... ranging from hormonal imbalances to, unfortunately, malignancy. I truly hope a medical evaluation puts all these anxieties to rest... Sending strength and courage.

Well, here we go again with our guy.
He’s finally back home—we’ve officially wrapped up the first round of chemo—but the side effects are definitely starting to kick in.

I’m basically relearning everything all over again—what to eat, how much to drink, the exact dosages... it's quite a bit to manage.

This time around, I’m stepping into the role of the caregiver. Some people might say it’s better this way, so I don't have to face it all alone, but honestly? For the second time, I find myself wishing I could just be the one in "their" shoes instead.

Next up on the schedule are the blood markers, a follow-up CT scan after the chemo, and then getting ready for the next cycle...
I’m trying my best to stay optimistic, though I suppose there are moments when I just break down—away from everyone else, of course.

I don't know, maybe it's just me, but sometimes I feel like I won't be able to give 100% support this time. Having gone through this once before, it left some scars on me—scars I think I'll carry for the rest of my life.
And yet, whenever I look at him, I feel this sudden surge of strength and courage—I just know there aren't any obstacles that can actually stop us...

Sending positive vibes and big hugs to everyone else out there fighting the good fight. 👍

Angela Wright said:Check out the mental health forum—there's a thread specifically for people dealing with loss. I know everything sucks right now, but you'll get through this. Just go post there. It really helped me out.

Where exactly?