Resources and support for families dealing with cancer and serious illness

Nancy Hernandez43 said:Hey everyone... especially you guys. Angela WrightHey, you.
The last six months have been a total whirlwind for me and my family—just constant ups and downs. There’s been plenty of crying, some much-needed laughs, and a whole lot of stress... you know how it goes when your entire family is suddenly staring down a diagnosis like cancer.

I joined this forum because I just couldn't find any real support, understanding, or—most importantly—actual help in my own circles. Honestly, I can't even tell who's having a harder time dealing with all this—Mom or the rest of the family.🤷 It’s honestly gut-wrenching looking back—we were never given any real psychological support, and now that we're older, you can finally see just how much it all messed with us. It’s also pretty wild how little info you actually get from our healthcare system—whether it's about medications, co-pays, treatment options, or what everything is going to cost... you're basically left in the dark.

Back on April 27th, they discharged my Mom from the hospital for home care—all while telling us she needs a follow-up in just four days once her test results are finalized. They’ve already flagged markers and deformed ovarian cells. So, after a month of her being in pain, dealing with biopsies, and getting told it’s ovarian cancer... they just sent her home to recover?!?!? Honestly, I’ll never wrap my head around how that makes any sense.

My dad just couldn't wait for all the test results to roll in. He’s been through the ringer with cancer more than a few times—survived two bouts himself—but it’s been a rough road for the whole family. My grandfather passed away from lung cancer, my mom survived breast cancer, and she had already dealt with uterine cancer too. Within ten days of that diagnosis, he was gone right along with her. We actually followed a recommendation and went to Aviano, Italy. The day they were supposed to do the checkup, everything was suddenly ready—results and all. Their staging system goes from 1 to 4, with each stage broken down into four parts (a, b, c, d). They clocked Mom at stage 3c (with 4d being the absolute worst), and she was literally on the operating table the very next day. Since money was tight for us, there wasn't even a question about wanting to get everything done at that specific hospital—they just jumped into action immediately. Now, we’re just left wondering how much longer our doctors back home would have made us wait for an operation like that.

The surgery lasted six hours—definitely the longest day of our lives—and honestly, the days that followed were just pure terror. Mom couldn't get out of bed, couldn't eat, couldn't even talk. It was just Dad by her side; she flat-out refused to see any of us. Even though he was in total shock and didn't speak a word of Italian, Dad stepped up big time. He found her this medical brace that really helped ease the pain and gave her enough strength to take those first little steps every day (she actually still wears it). I can't even wrap my head around what that first month was like for him. When my brother saw her for the first time, he thought there was no hope—and unfortunately, that’s how she felt, too. She went into her first round of chemo terrified, but she came out the other side stronger than ever. Seeing the other patients struggling with all that nausea and pain while she felt relatively okay—no major side effects—actually gave her the mental boost she needed. The doctors gave her a strict list of "dos and don'ts," but she wasn't about to let them boss her around if she felt like getting up and walking that day. Once summer hit, we basically lived at the beach to stay sane. Being stuck in the house without AC was brutal, especially for her since she had to stay put. We’d spend the evenings relaxing with a quick swim, and the days just seemed to fly by. But after the third chemo session, things got messy with her bloodwork. We spent an entire 24-hour stretch running between different labs, and man, it was gut-wrenching watching them poke her for the fourth time in a single day. She ended up missing one treatment, which threw off her whole cycle, so they had to push her schedule from 21 days to 28 days between rounds. You could tell she was wearing down—physically and mentally—even if she's way too stubborn to ever admit it.

About a month and a half ago, my dad came to visit and told me he was sorry—that he felt like we were losing the fight because Mom is just getting worse and doesn't have any strength left. Honestly? I felt it too. There were days when she could barely squeeze out a single coherent sentence. Then, when she told me her sister had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer... man, I just had this sinking feeling that it was going to pull her even further down. She went for her fifth round of chemo and came back looking worse than ever. Physically, she's just spent; you can see the toll it's taking right on her face, even if she keeps trying to deny it. It’s been about 20 days since her last session, and we've all just been sitting here, not knowing what to expect. When she finally got back to Aviano, the doctor basically laid it out for us—we’re looking at about six months of fighting to buy her whatever time we can.

So, after 6 months of searching, they couldn't find any cancer sites—everything came back clean. Our battle is finally over, and honestly, I just had to share this with everyone here who follows my journey! My folks are still out in Aviano, so I’m just waiting on the hour they get home so I can call them and hear it straight from their mouths. Anyway, I shared some of your advice and posts with Mom, and she’s actually super grateful to you all! Back when we first dealt with those low neutrophil and white blood cell counts... I read some tip about yeast and raisins somewhere, and now, whenever someone asks her how to boost those levels, she just says, "My little girl read about it on a forum."

I don't know enough about the medical side or specific meds to give you guys any real advice, but once Mom settles back in, I'll try to get her active on the forum too. For now, though, we're just keeping up with those same "small" steps for our health.

Just stay Brave !! and believe, even when it feels impossible. When I told a friend the news today, he asked me, "If anyone had told you a month ago that you'd be hearing this today, would you have believed them?"... I just told him: "My life is built on faith every single day."

I'm with you guys through it all—and THANK YOU!!!

Katherine

Dear Katherine, first off, I am so incredibly happy for you and your family. Thank God there are cases like this where it seems like there's no hope left, and then everything turns out amazing. Let’s pray it stays that way. And thank you for sharing this with us—you've given us all a huge dose of hope and extra courage. Sending love and thanks! 👍

Linda Campbell said:I was reading your post from the previous page and I couldn't help but smile; I am truly happy to hear that you are all doing well and that your Mother is recovering... it is a relief when at least one of us experiences something positive, or manages to finally stand tall against such a relentless illness. Truly, it warms my heart. God bless you all.
Regarding the talk of yeast, raisins, and corn kernels during chemotherapy—I actually remember posting about those very things back when my dear Mother was undergoing her treatment. It was suggested to her by a woman from Canada, following the advice of doctors there who were fully aware that neither the hospital nor the patients had the necessary funds for expensive medications... so they simply advised people to utilize whatever might offer support from home. It genuinely helped my Mother. It brings me a certain quiet satisfaction to know that even a small suggestion like that might have aided someone facing such a heavy burden. My best to you all.

I wasn't entirely certain if I had originally read that advice from you, but please believe me when I say you helped us... we are still passing that advice along to this day. My Mother thinks of it every single day... and whenever she feels her strength flagging, she quickly reaches for some yogurt, stirs in the yeast, and adds the raisins—she calls it her "magic cocktail"...

Regrettably, cancer remains a disease with an unpredictable outcome. Today is a beautiful day, filled with wonderful emotions of joy, primarily because of the people who shared in this happiness by reaching out with such lovely news. What matters most is that our faith never wavered, and that we have found a way to pull our little family closer together, learning to appreciate one another more deeply... ensuring nothing can shake our foundation.

By tomorrow morning, the initial rush of happiness will likely settle, replaced perhaps by a sense of disbelief. I won't see Mother for another five days... at which point I shall embrace her, kiss her, and see the reality of it all with my own eyes.

I shall continue to follow this forum faithfully, alongside all of you who have provided me with so much strength and conviction... I hope that one day soon, I too might be able to assist someone else with a meaningful piece of advice.

Stay strong... and move forward Brave !! ...for life is a teacher that instructs us that it is worth being stronger for the sake of our loved ones, pushing onward despite whatever deficiencies may find us.

shadowheron4 said:Dear Katherine, first, I must tell you how incredibly relieved I am for you and your entire family. Thank God there are still instances where everything seems hopeless, only for it to turn out beautifully in the end... let's hope it stays that way. Thank you for sharing this with us; you have provided a sense of renewed hope and a bit of extra courage to us all. Sending love and thanks.👍

I felt compelled to share this, even though it is a heavy realization that I cannot bring this same news to everyone regarding their own loved ones...

Brave !! ...love

Oh my gosh, I am just over the moon for you guys!! Miracles really do happen, 🙂
That line you wrote—"Every single day is fueled by faith"—is exactly what keeps us all going through these endless struggles and worries..

We haven't met, but I can't even put into words how much joy I'm feeling right now after hearing about your mother's test results and seeing everyone on this forum share such incredible news, 🙂
And honestly, my dad’s recent scans from two weeks ago look amazing too. His brain is clear, no signs of metastasis, and the stuff on his lungs is actually receding! He’s still pushing through chemo, with four rounds left to go. It’s still going to be a grind, but we're tackling it together like a family that's been bonded tight by this fight. We're going to win this!!

I'll check back in when there's more news. Sending love to all the fighters out there, 👍 Brave !!

crimsonmason44 said:My dear, I am just so incredibly happy for you all!! Miracles really can happen,🙂
That sentiment of yours—"Every day is filled with faith"—is exactly what needs to sustain us through these trials and anxieties...

We haven't met, but I truly cannot express the joy I feel right now upon hearing about your mother's test results, and seeing how everyone on this forum shares such news,🙂
As for my father, the results we received two weeks ago were excellent; his brain scans are clear, there are no metastases, and the issues in his lungs are receding. He is continuing with chemotherapy, with four sessions left to endure. It will likely remain difficult, but together, as a family that has grown even closer because of this illness, we shall prevail!!

I will check back in with more updates. Sending strength to all the fighters,👍 Brave !!

A short while ago, I spoke with my father, hoping he might convince me that the news was actually true. He gave me this sweet little smile, seemingly at a loss for words. I suggested he might simply be exhausted from the entire ordeal—the fight, yesterday’s trip to the clinic... but he insisted that wasn't it. Apparently, it was the doctor's reaction to the news that caught him off guard. My father was hoping to hear, "I am so glad! You have overcome something truly significant," but instead, he heard, "It's fine. We'll see you on February 14th." He remarked that the doctors here in the States can be quite clinical, almost cold, and he felt they lacked the warmth needed to brighten his day. He mentioned that Mother is also acting rather detached—she avoids discussing it and seems puzzled by our excitement, given that she still faces follow-ups every three months. I suppose one could say Mother is being distant because she is behaving like a true American... 🙂 We can only be grateful that they insist on these three-month check-ups to ensure there are no unwelcome surprises. Now, we simply need to move forward into this next chapter—finding ways to live more healthily, moving more, cutting back on smoking, reducing stress, and simply learning to cherish each passing day.

I am so pleased regarding your father; ultimately, the fact that the results are stable is wonderful news to me as well. Four rounds of chemo is no small feat, but I am certain you will navigate them with plenty of faith.

As for the routine Mother has established, she takes a spoonful of olive oil on an empty stomach every morning, eats at least one banana a day, drinks nothing but bottled water at room temperature, and makes her own fresh fruit and vegetable juices whenever she feels like it. Her only supplement is a native propolis to support her immunity, and I believe she uses Nexus. She has been taking Nexus throughout all six rounds of chemotherapy to help manage potential stomach pains.

Just as you wrote... this disease has woven our families together, and regardless of how grueling the illness may be, there is a beautiful sense in knowing you aren't facing it alone. My family has finally learned how to communicate; we have finally found a way to express genuine emotion, proving through countless instances that we are a single, unbreakable link that misfortune cannot sever!

WE KEEP MOVING FORWARD! THE FIGHT CONTINUES... kisses

@Nancy Hernandez43/">@@Nancy Hernandez43
Your Mother isn't being cold; she’s just chosen the most effective way to tackle this illness—by treating it as a lifelong commitment rather than a temporary setback. Save that enthusiasm of yours for later; she may have won one major battle, but the war is far from over. As I understand it, from a medical standpoint, you aren't typically considered "cured" until you've hit at least a year of remission, though that obviously fluctuates depending on the specific type of cancer. That’s likely why the doctors are reacting the way they are. You all finally have some breathing room to take the next critical step in this healing journey: making a fundamental lifestyle shift and focusing on spiritual growth. Without that internal pivot, true healing doesn't happen. Your Mother is going to undergo a massive transformation, and honestly, so will all of you. I know this because of what you shared with me in a private message that really set me on this train of thought. You've been in this process since day one. This change is going to be magnificent and beneficial for everyone; you're all going to come out of this much happier and more fulfilled. This evolution is inevitable and necessary for everyone involved—this experience of discovering a new "self," which is actually just finding your true self.

Nancy Hernandez43 said:I was just talking to my dad, trying to see if he actually believed the news. He just gave this little laugh, totally speechless. I figured maybe he was just wiped out from everything—the whole fight, the long drive yesterday... but he said that wasn't it. It was actually the doctor's reaction that caught him off guard. Dad was expecting something like, "This is amazing! You’ve conquered something huge," but instead he got, "It's fine. See you on February 14th." He says those doctors in America can be so cold; felt like he needed a little warmth just to get through his day. He says Mom is acting pretty detached too—she doesn't want to talk about it and is weirded out that we're celebrating, since there's another checkup every three months anyway. Honestly, I think Mom's being distant because she's basically a "typical American" 🙂. We should just be glad they're forcing these three-month checkups so there aren't any nasty surprises. Now we just have to move forward with this new chapter—finding ways to live healthier (moving more, cutting back on smoking... lowering stress) and just soaking up every single day.

I'm so happy for your dad—honestly, the main thing is that the results look good, and to me, that's great news regardless. Four rounds of chemo is no joke, but I'm sure you guys will power through it with plenty of faith.

As for Mom, she's turned her health into a routine: every morning on an empty stomach, she takes a spoonful of olive oil, eats at least one banana a day, drinks nothing but bottled water at room temperature, and makes her own veggie and fruit juices whenever she feels like it. The only supplement she takes is some native propolis to keep her immunity up, and I think it's Nexus. She took Nexus during all six rounds of chemo to help with potential stomach pain.

Like you said... this illness has pulled our whole families together. No matter how brutal the sickness gets, it's a beautiful feeling knowing you aren't doing this alone. My family finally learned how to actually talk to each other; we finally found a way to show real emotion, and through all of this, we've proven we're a bond that even tragedy can't break!

KEEPING ON! THE FIGHT GOES ON... kisses

Yeah, the doctor's coldness caught us off guard too when they gave us the news about the clear results (it's not just the doctors here). I guess they just have that "textbook" way of doing things where they don't let emotions get in the way...🤷
We were left feeling pretty confused and disoriented ourselves, especially since Dad's prognosis had been so grim before—like 3 to 6 months left. But we know we have to BELIEVE that everything is okay for now and that it'll stay that way..
Anyway, we keep moving! The fight continues, and with our families standing by us, we can handle anything.😉

Greetings to everyone,
My wife’s recent blood work came back with some concerningly high GGT levels—we're talking north of 500. Given that her other blood markers seem fine—aside from slightly elevated platelets, which is its own little headache—is she still a candidate for chemotherapy? I'm trying to wrap my head around what this specific reading actually points toward... and if there is any realistic way to bring those GGT numbers back down into a normal range.
electricgardener14

electricgardener14 said:Hi everyone,
my wife's blood work shows elevated GGT levels—it's over 500. Will she still be able to undergo chemotherapy if her other blood parameters look okay, aside from having high platelets? What does this result actually indicate, and is there any way to get those GGT levels back down to a normal range?
electricgardener14

Yeah, that’s definitely high. I honestly have no idea what the doctors will decide to do, but my gut tells me if they postpone the chemo, it might be because of those high platelet counts.
Maybe she could try taking Silymarin to support her liver. I really think that might help her out.

Nancy Hernandez43
Do doctors eventually just turn into robots? Honestly, it feels like they just Google every major disease they see. They give you the exact same blank stare whether they’re telling you you’re sick or giving you a clean bill of health. It’s like they’re thinking, "Why are you even happy about this?"—and honestly, that kind of vibe makes my skin crawl. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying *every* doctor is like this—they definitely left that impression on me personally—but it feels like 99% of them have zero emotional range. You’re sitting there hoping for even a tiny supportive smile, but nope... just a total brick wall. That's just how they are.

I totally get why Mother would react so coldly, because I've been right there in the trenches. Every three months I have a follow-up, and those fifteen days leading up to getting the results are pure nerve-wracking hell. I actually powered through chemo—and I mean that literally—staying on my feet and working instead of taking sick leave because I felt like I needed that strength... but man, when I think about the possibility of a relapse and having to do it all over again, I don't even know if I could handle it. So yeah, I get her reaction. Living life in three-month increments is brutal. You need so much mental toughness just to stay afloat.

stormyowl2 said:Nancy Hernandez43
Do doctors eventually turn into machines? Honestly, I wonder if they just Google all these severe illnesses... I don't know. They deliver news of a serious illness with the exact same facial expression they use for perfectly good test results. It’s as if they’re thinking, "Why are you even celebrating?" and it honestly makes my skin crawl. Don't get me wrong, that was certainly the impression they left on me. Certain emotional shifts on their faces simply aren't visible. Not everyone is like that, of course, but I'd say 99% definitely are. You expect them to offer at least a small, supportive smile, but instead, you get nothing... just a blank stare. That's just how they are.

I completely understand Mother's cold reaction, as I find myself in a very similar situation. Every three months we have follow-up appointments, and the fifteen days leading up to the lab results are filled with pure nerves regarding what might be found. I actually powered through chemotherapy, but in the most literal sense of the phrase. I kept working while undergoing treatment because I refused to take medical leave; staying active gave me strength, yet when I consider the possibility of a relapse and having to endure it all over again, I am not sure how I would cope. That is why I empathize with her reaction. Living life in three-month increments is exhausting... it requires an immense amount of mental fortitude.

I suppose... every profession develops its own mannerisms and standardized ways of interacting with others. I don't hold it against them... I was merely passing along the reaction of my family, since I am currently in 186 miles far away and won't see Mother for another five days.

Mother is much like you—just as you described in your own example—always striving to be productive at every possible opportunity. As for her job... she scaled it back to just a few hours a week, purely to maintain a daily routine so she wouldn't feel lost. What comes next will be a massive relief, however strange that may sound; while visiting the hospital every three weeks is taxing, believe me, it is even harder knowing that every nineteen days you face a 250-mile drive just to spend two or three days in a facility receiving chemotherapy. I suspect that was what wore Mother down the most, because it was quite awkward having Father drive her, especially since she needs to work given our difficult financial situation...

When things were at their worst, she didn't show fear, and I truly hope that resilience stays with her through these upcoming check-ups. In any case, I will provide updates regarding her whenever the time is right...

Warm regards to electricgardener14, and I sincerely hope her husband is able to proceed with his chemotherapy. I have experienced firsthand how draining it is to see poor blood counts. There was one occasion where Mother was turned away and couldn't receive her treatment because her neutrophil levels were far too low.

Stay strong, everyone.

So, regarding blood work results while you're going through chemo—I really feel like I should share what happened with me. Obviously, every diagnosis is different and the treatment protocols vary wildly, but still...

Right before my sessions started, I stumbled upon some link online claiming that drinking massive amounts of green tea during chemo was a "must." Apparently, it’s supposed to help with those crashing white blood cell counts by boosting bone marrow recovery and getting everything back on track. So, naturally, I went overboard. I was drinking so much of it I felt like I was practically sweating it out of my pores. But honestly? Throughout the whole process, my blood counts stayed incredibly stable—almost like a baby's...
Before my very last session, I finally quit. I couldn't even stand the smell of the stuff anymore—it made me want to gag. I went totally cold turkey for 15 days. Then, the day before that final treatment, I get my labs back... white blood cell count at 2.8. Total disaster. I called my doctor, and of course, they pushed the treatment back a week, praying that things would turn around by then. Well, the second I heard that, I went right back to the tea—four or five cups a day, easy. Two days later? Re-tested. White blood cells jumped to 6.9. I mean, what else are you gonna think? It actually works...

stormyowl2 said:Regarding blood work results while undergoing chemotherapy, I feel compelled to share my own experience... Of course, since different illnesses require different types of treatment, chemotherapy varies wildly from case to case, but still...

Before my treatment actually began, I happened upon some article suggesting that drinking large amounts of green tea during chemo was highly recommended, specifically to combat declining white blood cell counts and to support bone marrow recovery... So, I began consuming it in such quantities that I felt as though I were practically breathing it through my pores. Yet, throughout the entire duration of my therapy, my blood counts remained remarkably healthy, almost like an infant's...
Just before my final session, I stopped drinking it entirely because even the mere scent of it made me feel nauseous. I went without it for fifteen days. On the day preceding my last treatment, I had my blood work done, and my white blood cell count was at a critical 2.8. A total crisis. I contacted my oncologist, and naturally, they postponed the treatment for seven days, hoping there would be some improvement by then. Immediately, I returned to my tea regimen, consuming four or five cups a day. Two days later, I checked my levels again. My white blood cells had risen to 6.9. One can hardly draw any other conclusion than that it actually works...

That is quite a useful piece of information to have. It seems evident that green tea is effective. My Mother only ever drank herbal mountain tea because she suffered from constipation; she never dared to try anything else... but I shall certainly pass this along to her for the future...

Thank you

Hey there, my fellow heroes!
I’m glad to hear those tips about nutritional yeast and raisins worked out for some of you. If you want to level up, try adding chamomile tea to the mix—it’s a total game changer. Just don't go overboard; even nutritional yeast can be a bit much if you overdo it. Ideally, you just want to take a small amount, maybe the size of a tiny almond, either by swallowing it or mixing it in. To get those blood counts back where they belong, I swear by nettle tea. That specific "regimen" did wonders for my labs. Using the yeast, I actually saw my white blood cell count jump from 2 to 5 in just five days. I’m still sipping on that nettle tea today, and my blood work has been perfectly fine.
Sending big hugs—stay safe out there!🙂
P.S. Brewer's yeast is really the gold standard, but if you can't find that, the homemade stuff works too. Even beer can help, though I’ve only tried that myself, so I can't officially recommend it since everyone reacts differently depending on their other medications.🙂 🙂

Fortunately, I’m checking in today with some much better news than last time.
Mom’s condition is finally starting to stabilize, so we’ve begun incorporating some herbal teas and homemade blackberry wine into her routine. My main mission right now is just getting her strength back up—mostly by trying to coax her out for short walks every day.

As for my Grandfather, he completed two sessions of internal radiation during his first cycle. The doctors mentioned that during the second cycle, they’ll switch to external beam radiation instead of what he’s receiving now. He also handled two laser surgeries remarkably well; those procedures managed to stop the bleeding in his lungs. It seems they cleared out his left bronchus so air can flow through again, which means he's actually breathing into his left lung once more. There is quite a bit of congestion at the moment since he hasn't been able to use that side of his chest for nearly a month, but he feels so much better overall. He’s sleeping more soundly, his mood has lifted, and there's a certain brightness in his eyes again. 🙂 He’ll be heading back into chemotherapy once the radiation is finished, but that's just the nature of the beast. We keep fighting. 🙂
Does anyone have any suggestions on how to boost the immune system between radiation cycles? Is the approach similar to what we do during chemo?
Sending love :*

Carol Ramirez said:Luckily, I’m checking in this time with some better news.
Mom's condition is finally stabilizing; we’ve started her on some herbal teas and homemade blackberry wine. My main mission right now is getting her strength back up—mostly by trying to convince her to actually go for walks.

As for my Grandfather, he finished two sessions of internal radiation during his first cycle. They told him the second cycle will be external skin radiation instead of what he’s doing now. On top of that, he handled two laser surgeries incredibly well. That stopped the bleeding in his lungs, and since they cleared out his left bronchus so air can pass through again, he’s breathing into his left lung once more. Of course, there's a ton of mucus right now because he hasn't been using that side for nearly a month, but he feels so much better. He's sleeping easier, he's brighter, and he's looking much more vibrant. 🙂 Once the radiation wraps up, he’ll head back into chemo, but that’s just how it goes—it's a fight. 🙂
Does anyone have recommendations on how to boost the immune system between radiation cycles? Is it the same approach as with chemo?
Love you guys :*

Just keep pushing forward! Your Grandfather is an absolute force of nature.👍 He is such an incredibly strong man, and honestly, I think everything he's endured up to this point is exactly why he’s able to hold his own like this.👍

Yesterday, they officially cut the ribbon and got everything up and running at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital👍

Carol Ramirez said:Fortunately, I am checking in this time with some better news.
Mother’s condition is stabilizing; we have started her on some herbal teas and homemade blackberry wine. My current mission is to bolster her strength and convince her to take walks.

As for my Grandfather, he completed two sessions of internal radiation during the first cycle. They informed him that in the second cycle, they will switch to external beam radiation instead of the current method. He also handled two laser surgeries remarkably well. Those procedures successfully stopped the bleeding in his lungs; apparently, they cleared the left bronchus so air can flow again, allowing him to breathe through his left lung once more. Naturally, there is a lot of mucus right now since he hasn't used that lung in nearly a month, but he feels significantly better—he sleeps easier, his mood is brighter, and he seems much more alert. 🙂 He will return to chemotherapy after the radiation is finished, but such is life; one must fight. 🙂
Does anyone have recommendations on how to strengthen the body between radiation cycles? Is the approach the same as it is with chemo?
Kisses :*

I am truly happy for all of you; I was actually thinking about you just the other day. I wish you all continued strength—just keep fighting. Finally, a LITTLE BIT OF GOOD NEWS ON THIS FORUM.
Mistletoe tea is essential for any form of cancer, especially if the patient has already undergone radiation, because that tea contains trace amounts of radium. Mistletoe acts much like ragweed in its ability to cleanse toxins from the system, which is why it is indispensable when treating tumors! Give that a try; I know you are quite knowledgeable about these things.

Carol Ramirez said:Fortunately, I am checking in this time with somewhat more positive news.
Mother’s condition is finally stabilizing; we have started her on some herbal teas and some homemade blackberry wine. My primary mission at the moment is simply trying to convince her to go for short walks to regain some strength...

As for my Grandfather, he completed two sessions of internal radiation during his first cycle. The doctors informed him that during the second cycle, they will switch to external beam radiation instead of the current method. He also underwent two laser procedures quite successfully, which managed to stop the bleeding in his lungs... since they presumably cleared the left bronchus to allow airflow again, he is breathing through the left lung once more. Naturally, there is a significant amount of mucus present because he hasn't been able to breathe properly for nearly a month, but he feels much better, sleeps more soundly, and seems far more alert and spirited...🙂 After the radiation is finished, he will return to chemotherapy, but such is the nature of the fight... 🙂
Does anyone have recommendations on how to bolster the immune system between radiation cycles? Is the approach similar to what one would do during chemo?
Sending love :*

Keep pushing forward! I truly hope you continue to share more good news like this!

Angela Wright said:Yesterday, they held a formal ceremony to launch operations at Sister of Mercy Hospital👍

A significant step forward for the American healthcare system...
What truly saddens me, however, is the fact that there isn't a single dedicated oncology hospice here in the States. One can only wonder when we might finally see such a necessity fulfilled...