Resources and support for families dealing with cancer and serious illness

mistyranger4 said:Ivanica, hang in there... you are such a huge source of comfort and strength for all of us. I honestly wish I knew how to return the favor, how to soothe you or take away even a fraction of this pain and disappointment. Stay strong!

Angela Wright said:Have you guys done any more research?
I am just absolutely devastated. I'm having a terrible day today—I feel so miserable and I can't stop crying. On top of everything with my mom, things with my boyfriend are falling apart too; we're going through such awful stuff right now. I honestly can't believe I made such a huge mistake with him.🙂 Out of everyone who has turned their back on me, even my own father, he was the one person standing by my side, and now it feels like I was wrong about him, too.

Linda Campbell said:GOD BLESS THE KINDHEARTED!
I’m jumping in here because I’m just as desperate with my own struggles. Reading your posts honestly makes my skin crawl.
Look, dear Ivanica, no one can truly grasp what you're going through unless they’ve been in the trenches caring for a sick parent—especially when you're that deeply bonded. I have a wonderful husband who works in medicine; he’s incredibly attentive to our whole family, especially my mom. He’s been my rock through all of this, ever since my dad was battling lung cancer about seven years ago. But even he gets under my skin sometimes, sending me those "common sense" medical tips that I just can't stomach right now. My heart is breaking, and his perspective just isn't mine. His parents are both healthy and active, thankfully. He hasn't personally lived through this nightmare, so if he had, he’d probably realize just how much it hurts and how much you feel like you're falling apart. It's the same with your boyfriend. The other day, I was with my mom and she was sobbing hysterically; it felt like my own heart was shattering into a million pieces. Then I have to leave her at the house and rush back to my kids, my husband, my job, and my life—but my head is stuck on my mother crying, from the moment I wake up until I close my eyes at night. My nerves are frayed to the breaking point. It is so incredibly hard to endure, and believe me, I pray to God every single day for the strength to keep going. I’m sitting here writing this and weeping like a child. It’s overwhelming, but we have to push forward. We have to. I’m heading to the coast for 14 days this Saturday with my husband and kid, leaving Mom in the care of my brother and sister-in-law. Just thinking about it is making my stomach knot up. I can’t relax, and I don't even want to go. I am completely consumed by worry. I just pray to God that everyone recovers and stops suffering. Yesterday, my mom told me she doesn't want to do any more chemo. She only has one cycle left. I don't even know if she weighs 50 kilos anymore. She's thin as a toothpick, pale, and her hair is gone. It's devastating.
Hang in there, everyone. I love you all.

wiredotter88 said:My mom is fighting cancer too! I truly understand everything you're going through and I hope you all find the strength to endure this!
If anyone knows of a medication or even just something to ease her peripheral neuropathy symptoms—the coldness, the tingling, the pain in her hands following chemotherapy—please, I am asking for help!

"After every storm comes the sun, and if the storm was particularly fierce, that beautiful weather
will last even longer!" "

Melissa Edwards53 said:Hey everyone
I’ve been lurking here for a while, reading through your posts, but this is the first time I’ve actually found the nerve to type something out. Two years ago, cancer took my best friend. She was only 18 at the time. Going through those five years of fighting alongside her was easily the most brutal and beautiful experience of my life. Just thinking about all those endless hours spent in the hospital makes me break down. Even when she was in absolute agony, the girl would somehow find the strength to crack a joke, mess with the doctors, or—God forbid—try to comfort ME. We had these moments where we’d be hysterical with laughter one minute, sobbing our eyes out the next, and then laughing at ourselves for crying... it was surreal. Her sheer will to live fascinated me; it’s the thing that keeps me going whenever I feel like things couldn't possibly get any worse. On the day she passed, her last words were, "MOM, LOOK, I'M A WHITE BUTTERFLY." And whether you believe in signs or not, a tiny white butterfly circled her casket during the funeral the whole time... so I know she’s still with me, even though there are days I’m just furious at her for leaving, or angry at myself for wondering if I could have supported her better. To make a long story short, I just wanted to say that this community is a lifeline. If you try to bottle everything up and act tough, you’re going to snap, just like I did. Now I’m facing my own serious health battles because carrying all that unprocessed pain alone is simply too much for one person to bear. That grief has to go somewhere. Can I say it gets easier? No. I still dream about her almost every night, spending half the dark hours in tears. But I have to believe it gets better, because HOPE IS THE ONLY WAY OUT!!!
Love to you all!!!

Melissa Edwards53 said:Hey everyone!
I've been lurking here and reading all your posts for quite a while now, but I finally worked up the courage to actually type something out myself. About two years ago, I lost my absolute best friend to cancer—she was only 18 at the time. Looking back, those five years we spent fighting alongside her were honestly the most intense, heartbreaking, yet beautiful experiences of my entire life. Just thinking about all those endless days spent sitting in hospital waiting rooms makes me burst into tears right now. Even when she was going through the absolute worst of it, that silly girl would always find a way to crack a joke, mess with the doctors just to see them smile, and somehow, even in her pain, she’d be the one trying to comfort ME... anyway, I won't ramble too much, I just wanted to say that this community is such a lifesaver. If you try to bottle everything up inside and pretend you're "strong," you'll eventually just snap, exactly like I did. Now, I'm dealing with some serious health issues of my own, because honestly, carrying all that grief alone is just too heavy for anyone to bear. That pain has to go somewhere. Can I say it gets easier over time? Not really. I still dream about her almost every single night, and I end up spending half the night crying, but I have to believe things will get better, because HOPE IS EVERYTHING!!!
Sending kisses to you all!!!

Melissa Edwards53 said:hi everyone
I've been lurking here for quite a while—just reading everything—but this is my first time actually stepping up to write something. Two years ago, I lost my best friend to cancer; she was only 18 at the time. Honestly, those five years we spent fighting together were the most intense, bittersweet experience of my entire life. Just thinking about all those long days in the hospital makes me tear up—she was such a little rebel, always finding a way to crack a joke or tease the doctors, even when things were at their absolute worst—and she’d spend her energy trying to comfort *me*... there were moments where we’d be laughing hysterically one minute, sobbing the next, and then laughing at ourselves for crying. Her sheer will to live was incredible—it’s what keeps me going whenever I feel like I've hit rock bottom. On the day she passed, the last thing she said was, "Mom, look, I'm a white butterfly"—and whether you believe in signs or not, a tiny white butterfly circled her casket during the service... so I know she's still with me, even though I still get angry sometimes—at her for leaving, and at myself for wondering if I could have supported her better. Anyway, I just wanted to say that this community is a lifesaver. If you try to bottle everything up and act tough, you'll eventually break—just like I did—and now I'm dealing with my own health struggles because carrying all that pain alone is just too much. It has to go somewhere. Can I say it gets easier? Not really—I still dream about it almost every night and spend half the night crying—but I'm holding onto hope, and HOPE IS EVERYTHING!!!
kisses to all!!!

Michelle Hernandez43 said:Sometimes we carry this pain around like a heavy debt we’ve finally settled, and it weighs us down so hard. We hold onto it, fighting against it, all at once...
I find that things get a little easier when you just stop fighting the suffering and actually accept it. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself—sometimes it actually helps. Lately, though, I feel like accepting the pain is its own kind of battle... trying to live while embracing the hurt... and man, some days that is just brutal...
Hang in there, fighters! Keep pushing forward, and when the weight feels unbearable, just remember you aren't doing this alone!
Stay strong!
😘