Support for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses (Part II)

bluelynx9 said:Unfortunately, we all know how messy things can get with our healthcare system,
and honestly, I wouldn't take that claim for granted either. Because...
it really comes down to what kind of guidelines doctors are actually following and what they’re even allowed to tell a patient, especially given how expensive everything is!
They aren't supposed to just hand out prescriptions or suggest high-cost medications,
and then you have all these different committees second-guessing your specialist's opinion—as if they think they're poisoning us with chemo or other therapies we don't need.
Maybe the doctor was genuinely trying to help,
but in this financial nightmare, he just didn't dare put it in writing.

It's just sad.

I'm right there with you. Here is what was reported (copied and pasted from a news site):

"My only option left is to move my case over to Dr. Belev, who is the only one with a plan for further treatment. I underwent testing for Sorafenib at the Mayo Clinic back in April. It turns out I don't have any allergies or side effects to the drug, but in the meantime, the results from additional tumor DNA analysis arrived from the USA—which I had to pay for out of my own pocket. Those results show my tumor is SDH B positive, meaning it would likely respond best to Sorafenib. However, both the Cleveland Clinic and Rebro refused to cover the medication from their budget because the drug isn't considered sufficiently studied for this specific condition. It's such a rare situation; I might be the only person in the entire country with this subtype," said Romić.

'The medicine costs about $3,300 a month, and I just don't have that kind of money...'

Dr. Belev managed to scrape together a small amount of the medication, but unfortunately, it isn't enough to cover a full three-month follow-up period.

"I tried reaching out directly to the manufacturer to ask for a donation for the first two months just to see if the drug works, but even Bayer turned me down because they can't donate medication for my specific GIST diagnosis. Who else can I turn to if I want to extend my life and give my twins more time with their dad? Does everything in this country have to be such an uphill battle? I even looked into options in Austria; you can get the drug with a prescription, but it costs around $3,300 a month. Sadly, I just don't have that money. Please, help me try to give my children a little more of a childhood—they are the reason I'm fighting this. If anyone has any extra Sorafenib (Nexavar) left over from their own treatment, please let me know," Daniel pleaded.

Ashley Robinson3 said:I’m right there with you—here is the full story as reported by one news outlet (copied and pasted below):

"My only option now is to move my case over to Dr. Belev, who was the only specialist with a clear vision for how to proceed with treatment. Back in April, I underwent testing for Sorafenib at the Mayo Clinic. They confirmed I have no side effects or allergies to the medication, and meanwhile, my additional tumor DNA analysis results arrived from the US—which I had to pay for out of my own pocket. Those results indicate my tumor is SDH B positive, suggesting it might respond best to Sorafenib. Unfortunately, both the Cleveland Clinic and Rebro refused to cover the cost of these drugs through their budgets because the medication isn't considered sufficiently studied for this specific condition. It's such a rare situation—Daniel mentioned he might be the only person in the entire country dealing with this exact subtype," said Romić.

'The medication costs about $3,300 a month, and I simply don't have that kind of money...'

Dr. Belev managed to secure a small amount of the medication, though sadly, it isn't enough to last through a full three-month monitoring period.

"I tried reaching out directly to the manufacturer to request a donation for the first two months—just to see if the drug actually works—but unfortunately, even Bayer turned me down, stating they can't donate medication for my specific GIST diagnosis. Who else can I turn to, or who *must* I contact, just to extend my life and give my twins a little more time with their dad? Does everything in this country always have to be such an uphill battle? I even looked into options in Austria; you can get the drug with a prescription, but it still costs around $3,300 a month. Sadly, I just don't have those funds. Please, help me try to protect my children's childhood—they are the reason I am fighting this. If anyone happens to have any extra Sorafenib (Nexavar) left over from their own treatment, please let me know," Daniel pleaded.

Please don't take it personally, but that comment was actually directed at my...

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ruggedfox11 said:How absurd. Now my pulmonologist is trying to make me feel guilty just because I sounded the alarm with the Department of Health. Really? It isn't about "looking someone in the eye," but... am I actually in the wrong here?

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You aren't in the wrong—not by a single inch. Don't you dare feel guilty for this; instead, take pride in yourself and in what you're fighting for as a family. If our healthcare system weren't in such a state, you wouldn't have been forced to go down this path in the first place. Unfortunately, because of how broken the system is, we're left having to fight tooth and nail for every little thing.

ruggedfox11, seriously, give yourself some credit here—you deserve a monument, not a reason to feel ashamed. You’re "guilty" simply because you want your husband to get the medication he actually needs, and you're willing to move heaven and earth to make it happen. So what if you are? If being "guilty" means fighting for him, then wear that label with pride!

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The medication committee has been making things difficult for her—they’re insisting there are quotas, even though I found out from the nurse handling the orders this morning that those quotas don't actually exist (though if they did, insurance would cover it anyway). They were demanding an explanation from the pulmonologist as to why the medication wasn't ordered last week, simply because those idiots on the committee failed to sign off on the approval. It’s honestly maddening how much confusion they cause. I feel terrible for her; she didn't delay anything, yet somehow she's being blamed for the incompetence of the people above her. It almost seems like the nursing staff enjoys seeing someone finally call out these doctors who act like they own the place.

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Honestly, it’s infuriating. You have people playing games with someone who is confused, let alone a patient for whom every single second counts. It turns out we spent all that time waiting, and my father—who passed away two months ago—would only just be getting his turn for certain tests right about now. We ended up pulling strings just to figure out where we stood, even though I’ve always personally despised being that kind of person. But at that point, you don't have a choice. Dad would have died without us knowing why. Sadly, in our case, none of that maneuvering actually helped in the end, but at least we tried to fight against the beast. It is blindingly obvious that the entire system is broken. You simply cannot wait six months for a scan that might be critical to diagnosing such a devastating illness (specifically a CT scan)!! And you certainly can't wait a month or two just to start chemotherapy! I recently needed an abdominal ultrasound myself due to suspicions of several serious conditions (thankfully, it wasn't any of them), and they scheduled me for February of next year! If I actually had one of those illnesses, I wouldn't have made it to February. Regardless, a system like this is a failure and needs to be challenged. ruggedfox11, don't feel bad about what you did.

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I would love to write more about this, but honestly, I’m just at a loss for words—I don't even know where to start. The medication finally arrived this morning, along with the approval letter from the insurance provider (which was dated July 27th... apparently they approved it immediately after the medical board meeting). He isn't doing well. He’s coughing up this thick, yellow-green mucus with streaks of blood, though he does seem to get some relief in his rib pain when he coughs. As for the doctor... she might be a decent professional on paper, but I just can't bring myself to trust her. It feels even worse now because it seems like she’s siding with her colleagues rather than standing by the patient. She has this defensive mechanism where she becomes incredibly harsh and even insulting if you ask too many questions—this is actually the second time she's spoken to me that way. She basically told me not to get my hopes up about the Hycamtin, suggested I shouldn't bother alerting the Department of Health, and implied I should just accept the fact that there's nothing left to be done—that I need to be the "realistic" one with my feet on the ground instead of living in a fantasy. It completely crushed me. Part of me just wants to tell him not to suffer through this, to just end the misery, because—God help us—is this really how a doctor "comforts" a patient and their family? I can't wrap my head around it. I understand that to them, we are all just numbers on a chart, but surely there is a minimum dose of empathy required? Just for one moment, show that you care about the damn life you swore an oath to protect—to value human dignity, at the very least. Instead, she makes me feel guilty for doing everything in my power. To have a DOCTOR, a PROFESSOR, a hospital ADMINISTRATOR, tell me that my husband's condition isn't urgent... to have another doctor, a member of the pharmaceutical review board, literally count my husband's blood cells and make comments about his background... It is a total catastrophe. I told myself right then: once he passes, the first thing I'm doing is requesting an autopsy, and then I am going to hold every single one of them accountable. I won't let them off easy.

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ruggedfox11, don't let them get you down!
We’re from the same neck of the woods, and honestly, we’ve been through such similar struggles... I remember one night when my dad was struggling to breathe at the ER, we were met by this doctor who basically just told us there was nothing she could do about his diagnosis and sent him straight home. No oxygen, no support, absolutely nothing to make things easier for him...
I honestly don't even know how we managed to stay composed or how we even survived that night, I still feel a little lightheaded just thinking back on it all...
In that moment, I just wanted her to experience exactly what we did—to see how she'd act if it were someone she actually loved fighting for their life...
Even though there are amazing doctors out there, you unfortunately run into people who have zero emotion or empathy, treating patients like they're just numbers on a spreadsheet, so please, don't let them get under your skin...
Keep being loud, keep speaking up, and demand exactly what you deserve, no matter how much anyone might judge you for it...
It's your life on the line here, and nobody has the right to make you feel guilty, because if it were one of their own in your shoes, they'd be singing a completely different tune...

I’ve been reading through these threads since 2005, and let me tell you, I’ve seen endless versions of this exact same story. I actually went as far as founding an advocacy group once, but it eventually collapsed because politics and Big Pharma exploited the weakest links in the chain, stripping us of our credibility until we had to shut down.
Listen, people, you have no idea how deep these games go or what levels they operate on—stretching from bottom-tier charlatans to actual doctors, and from the pharmaceutical giants to the political machine. The level of sabotage they're willing to pull is staggering, and it's all interconnected. In the end, the patient is always the one left carrying the weight.
The one thing I constantly advise everyone is to be assertive. If you have to fight tooth and nail through every legal avenue available to get what you need, then do it.
I’m glad to see that calling out the Department of Health actually yielded some results—for now, at least, until the next crisis hits.
The real issue lies in those hospital monthly budget caps that they aren't supposed to exceed. Milton's infamous mandate essentially tells those limits to go jump in a lake (sorry for the language, but it’s the only way to put it, and it’s damn accurate). Basically, a huge range of expensive medications—which, by the way, they still haven't even clearly defined—are essential for treating various cancer diagnoses, yet they aren't on the standard list of drugs covered by Medicare. Instead, they’ve shoved the decision of whether a person is "entitled" to them onto a committee. Most of the time, the answer should be yes, otherwise why would a doctor even bother requesting the funding? These costs are pulled directly from the hospital's operating budget alongside things like syringes, needles, and even toilet paper. It’s not uncommon for just ONE patient's specific medication to drain the entire oncology department's budget for months.
And yeah, it gets worse. Because doctors are terrified of repercussions, they either violate their own Hippocratic Oath or they strike a "handshake deal" with the patient. They’ll write a private prescription, order the meds themselves, and then treat the patient in a "gray zone." Here’s the reality: hospital treatment isn't supposed to be administered using drugs brought in from the outside—that’s a standard rule and practice everywhere in the world. The hospital pharmacy is supposed to handle all procurement. Before this ridiculous mandate was implemented, hospitals used to receive direct funding to buy these drugs. That system was flawed, sure, but at least you could receive legal treatment. Now, we’ve reached a point where doctors are essentially treating us illegally within the hospital using drugs prescribed via private scripts.
The situation is critical, and it’s only going to get uglier. As a nation, we need a massive reality check. The days of worrying about saving up or taking out loans for a new car or a house are long gone. Today, you’re forced to save for scenarios where you might have to cough up millions of dollars just to stay alive because certain medications are a lifelong necessity. Healthcare has become a luxury reserved for the rich and powerful. The only small comfort I find is the fact that there are zero guarantees in this life; against biology, every effort is just a gamble, even for the wealthiest and most influential people on earth.

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stormyfalcon68 said:ruggedfox11, please don't let this get you down.
We grew up in the same area, and we’ve walked through very similar struggles. I remember one night—I can still feel the pit in my stomach just thinking about it—when my father was struggling to breathe at the ER. We were met by a doctor who basically told us there was nothing she could do regarding his diagnosis and sent him straight home. No oxygen, no support, nothing to make it easier for him.
Honestly, I don't even know how we managed to stay composed enough to get through that night; I still feel a bit lightheaded just recalling it.
In that moment, I wished for her—I truly did—to experience that exact same treatment and that exact same attitude when it was someone she loved fighting for their life.
For every brilliant physician out there, there are others who lack even a shred of emotion or empathy—people who view patients as mere entries in a spreadsheet. Don't let them get under your skin.
Stay vocal. Keep demanding exactly what you are entitled to receive, regardless of whether people look at you sideways for doing so.
It is your life on the line here, and no one has the right to make you feel guilty. If it were someone close to them sitting in your chair, they would be singing a very different tune.

It's the truth... if it were anyone else, she'd be acting much differently. Everything about this just infuriates me. I won't let her provoke me—at least, I won't let her see it—but the people... It's hard to wrap my head around how some people can be so dense and stuck in the dark ages, so easily swayed by anyone without using a lick of common sense. They can't seem to snap out of it, think for themselves, or simply say "enough." They treat doctors and politicians like deities, and they don't care that someone is hitting their head against a wall in the process. It’s always easier to walk away than to actually step up, fix something, or speak out. But no. And then, when an individual stands up for themselves because they know their rights, that person is suddenly labeled as the "fool." Maybe I am. But look—I'm a math professor. I charge for tutoring, and I have students who practically need me to draw 2+2=4 for them, yet I have never once acted superior or condescendingly insisted, "Well, you should obviously know this," especially when we're talking about grades, not a human life...
I realize I’ve drifted a bit from the main point, but everything about this situation just set me off. Honestly, I was so worked up that I ended up dyeing my hair from blonde to pink, gave my nose a little tweak, put both kids to bed, and grabbed a cold beer just to try and clear my head.

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ruggedfox11 said:Truth... If things were any different, she’d be singing. Honestly, this whole thing just infuriates me. She isn't going to provoke me—at least I won't let her see it—but these people? It blows my mind how many folks are stuck in some sort of intellectual dark age, just drifting along without a single brain cell, unable to snap out of it, think for themselves, and just say "enough." They treat doctors and politicians like they're gods, and they couldn't care less if they're banging their heads against a brick wall. It’s always easier to walk away than to actually step up, fix something, or use your head. But no. And then, the moment one person stands up for themselves because they actually know their rights, suddenly *that* person is the idiot. Maybe I am. But look, I’m a math professor. I run tutoring sessions for students who literally need me to draw 2+2=4 for them, but I have never once acted superior or condescending by snapping, "Well, you should know this," especially when we're talking about grades, not someone's actual life...
I drifted off-topic a bit, but the whole situation got under my skin so much that, honestly, I dyed my hair from blonde to pink, gave myself a massive nose ring, tucked the two kids into bed, and cracked open a cold beer just to shut my brain off for a second.

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People generally only show up for the fight when it affects them personally. From everything I've seen, it works like this:
Someone has an issue because they can't get a medication they are legally entitled to through Medicare. They stir up a massive scene through an advocacy group to apply pressure, they go to the news, they finally get the meds—one way or another—and then they vanish from the conversation entirely. They're done. Meanwhile, you have those two or three people in the advocacy group doing all the heavy lifting, while everyone else blames them—from disgruntled patients claiming "they aren't trying hard enough" to pissed-off politicians saying "they're just being difficult."
Everyone is there, heart and soul, when they need something. Everyone else? They're just there in theory. It's always someone else's problem until it becomes yours. There are so many of those types—people who are dying or desperately need medicine, yet they beg you not to mention their names because they don't want to offend anyone or cause trouble for their doctor... ugh, just thinking about it makes me sick. 😣

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This goes to the heart of our collective mindset, and honestly, it isn't just limited to healthcare—it’s baked into my own profession and pretty much every other sector too. Everyone is incredibly bold when they're talking; you hear endless "we should do this" and "that ought to happen," but the moment actual movement is required, everyone suddenly becomes terrified of stepping on toes. I’ve found myself in several situations within my own field where we truly needed to spark a "revolution" and take issue with the Department of Health. I even went as far as drafting the formal complaints myself. My colleagues were all right there, cheering me on and giving me pats on the back, but the second it came time to actually sign those documents? I was standing there entirely alone. Because, let's face it, nothing ever changes when it's just one person complaining. If hundreds or thousands of us spoke up, it would be a completely different story. There are a handful of doctors out there whom it is widely "known" are more butchers than medical professionals; they really ought to be fired and stripped of their licenses, but if anyone bothers to contact the Department of Health, you won't find a single person who filed a complaint against them. It’s not because there’s some grand conspiracy at play—it’s simply because, in reality, nobody ever actually speaks up!

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Robin Diaz4 said:This really gets to the heart of the American mindset—it isn't just about healthcare, either; it’s woven into my profession and pretty much every other sector you look at. Everyone is incredibly vocal when things are going wrong—lots of "we should do this" and "that ought to happen"—but the moment actual movement is required, people freeze because they don't want to be the ones to step out of line. I've found myself in several situations within my own field where a total "revolution" was necessary, where we needed to take our grievances straight to the Department of Health and Human Services. I even drafted the formal letters myself; my colleagues were all encouraging me, giving me pats on the back and telling me I was doing the right thing, but when it came time to actually sign those documents... I was left standing there completely alone. Because, let's face it, nothing ever changes when it's just one person complaining. If hundreds or thousands of us stood up together, it would be a different story entirely. There are a handful of doctors out there who are widely known to be nothing more than butchers rather than medical professionals—people who absolutely should be fired and stripped of their licenses—yet if anyone asks the federal government, nobody has ever officially filed a complaint against them. It's not because there's some grand conspiracy at play; it's simply because, in reality, no one ever bothers to speak up!

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I was literally just thinking the exact same thing! :-)

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After that night when the doctor basically just kicked my dad out of the ER without giving him any actual relief, I ended up venting about the whole mess in a blog post.
Honestly, forget the blog part, it was really just my way of blowing off steam from all the stress we’ve been dealing with...
By the next morning, the entire hospital knew every single detail—about the doctor, my dad, my parents—it was being whispered in every hallway and passed around by the nurses and staff
I ended up cowardly deleting the post because I just didn't want anyone looking at us differently, since with everything we were going through, we definitely didn't need more drama or fighting over trivial nonsense.
If it had been about me, I wouldn't have given a single damn, seriously!
But just to keep the peace, I shut my mouth and kept it all to myself.
And who knows how many other people stay silent and just suffer through their own personal nightmares because they're terrified of being judged, or they're too exhausted to fight battles on a thousand different fronts for a million different reasons...

stormyfalcon68 said:The night the doctor discharged my father from the ER without providing him any actual relief, I ended up writing a whole post about the entire ordeal on my blog.
Honestly, forget the blog—it wasn't even really about writing; it was just my way of venting all the stress and everything we were going through at the time.
By the next morning, the entire hospital knew every single detail—about the doctor, about my father, about my parents—it was being whispered in every hallway, among the nurses, and throughout the staff.
I ended up deleting the post, which felt a bit cowardly, I suppose, because I didn't want anyone looking at us differently. In the situation we found ourselves in, we didn't need more drama or to be fighting over trivialities.
If it had been about me, I wouldn't have cared one bit!
But for the sake of keeping the peace, I just kept my head down and stayed quiet.
And who knows how many other people stay silent like that, enduring their own personal horrors just because they’re afraid of being judged, or because they're too exhausted to fight battles on a thousand different fronts for a thousand different reasons.

That's okay. We aren't all built the same... But if we allow them to act like they're "gods," then we've definitely failed.

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I’ll admit, I kept my mouth shut about quite a few things just because I didn't want to offend anyone and risk jeopardizing the quality of care my dad was receiving. We were fortunate enough to get him on the right treatment plan almost immediately after the diagnosis, but getting to that point took over six months of waiting. He was incredibly patient through it all, mostly because he didn't realize just how serious things actually were. Honestly, I refuse to play the "what if" game—wondering if he’d still be with us today if we had caught this six months earlier doesn't change anything. No amount of mental gymnastics can bring him back, but it doesn't change the fact that the system is fundamentally broken.

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Robin Diaz4 said:I stayed quiet about quite a few things myself—mostly because I didn't want to cause friction or hold a grudge against anyone, which might have ended up interfering with my dad getting the care he actually needed. We were lucky enough to get him the right treatment almost immediately after the diagnosis, but getting to that point took over six months of waiting. He was just so patient through it all, never truly believing that anything serious was happening. I won't sit here and play "what if" scenarios—like wondering if catching the illness six months earlier would have changed things—because honestly, no amount of imagining doesn't bring him back. But the reality remains: the system is broken.

The only thing that weighs on me now—the one real regret—is that I didn't push harder and demand answers sooner while he was stuck in that hematology ward for twenty days just waiting for a diagnosis. But... I suppose there's no use in dwelling on it now. There's no turning back.

Hey there, everyone. First off, I want to send my condolences to those who have moved on to a better place, and I also want to express some genuine respect to all of you for keeping this community going; these boards really mean a lot when you find yourself stuck in a situation that feels like there’s no way out.
So, for me, this whole thing is basically an old story that’s suddenly resurfaced. My mom is 91 now, and back in the day, she got hit with that classic "you've got maybe three to six months left" prognosis first at the hospital in San Diego, which was just a total chaotic mess of doctors running in circles. Then we moved things over to Chicago to see the specialists at the Petrov Department under what was then Dr. Buković’s lead. The diagnosis back then was inoperable cervical cancer. If my nine-year-old memory serves me right, I’m pretty sure it was still in situ at the time. She went through one long round of radiation, maybe a third session or something, and honestly, the damn thing just vanished like it was never even there. She never even had to touch chemo.
A few years back, she dealt with some kind of relapse situation, which meant another frantic trip to Chicago because some other doctor had completely botched her treatment. Everything ended up getting sorted out and fixed properly this time around, though.
Life has a funny way of throwing a massive pile of absolute nonsense your way all at once, and honestly, our family just got hit with a relentless wave of total bullshit—pardon my French. It started with my aunt being diagnosed with lung cancer when she was only 48, and we ended up losing her three years ago, which just completely derailed everything. Since then, my mom basically just kind of checked out and forgot to take care of herself entirely.
So, just last week—mostly because a friend kept nagging me about it—I actually went to see a gastroenterologist for an ultrasound. She was convinced I had some kind of issue since my stomach is looking like I’m in my third trimester, especially with how rock-hard the upper part feels.
So, the doctor at this private clinic—because obviously, nobody has the patience to wait a year for an ultrasound in this country—got a little too worked up and decided we were looking at a full-blown recurrence. He’s claiming there’s this massive tumor taking up space all through her pelvis and abdomen, and then he starts pointing out these liver changes that apparently have him worried, saying the texture looks way too rough, which is ridiculous because my mom wouldn't touch a drop of alcohol if her life depended on it. It was all very dramatic, and suddenly everything was being rushed toward San Diego for emergency testing at the hospital, which led to this incredibly awkward, heavy silence from the staff. Honestly, the doctors just seem to be making excuses and avoiding anything concrete, except for this one junior gynecologist—and I call him junior because he looked like a kid to me—who actually had the nerve to tell her, "Look, ma'am, you really don't need to worry. Everything else looks fine, and even that CA 125 level isn't actually that bad; it's probably just a cyst that we'll go ahead and clear out for you."
Honestly, my hair is practically standing on end right now, and thank God I'm not currently stuck in San Diego.
So, my mom—who’s 57, by the way—actually managed to get a meeting with some doctor who thinks we're looking at a recurrence, though apparently not from the same tumor. The theory is that one metastasis basically crawled into the spot where her ovary used to be and just sat there waiting to flare up, and now the doctor is operating under the assumption that it's started spreading toward the intestines. Nothing is set in stone until they actually cut her open, obviously. They also mentioned some kind of hemangioma on the liver, but even that's just a guess until they get in there and see for themselves.
And naturally, the panic starts setting in because they don't have a full surgical team out in San Diego capable of opening up and cleaning out a woman's reproductive system, handling the intestines, or performing a liver resection if the situation calls for it.

I honestly don’t even know where to start because I was way too young back in '91 to deal with any of that heavy lifting myself. Now, it feels like my entire world is collapsing all over again. I haven't even fully processed losing my aunt so suddenly, and now I'm expected to just snap out of it, pull myself together, and step up. To make matters worse, my mother is playing the martyr right now; she's in total shock, acting like the ultimate victim, and basically dumping the whole weight of this situation onto my shoulders. It isn't even like she’s actually suffering or going through something grueling—honestly, she wouldn't even realize how bad things have gotten if her friend hadn't talked her into getting worked up about it. Look, I get that she's stressed and that I need to step up and handle things, but my people are constantly terrified of everything, and frankly, I have no idea which way is up anymore.
I sent an email to that clinic over on 24th St and, surprise surprise, absolutely nothing. Total radio silence. It’s always the same story—if you aren't some big shot with a massive bank account, they just straight up ignore you. My mom is already breathing down my neck, telling me I need to go hunt down Folnović at the Petrov Department either today or tomorrow once she finally gets those test results over to me. Honestly, I was even reaching out to some specialist clinic in New York to see if they could help with the Vaxira situation.
So, my boss sits there under the AC, totally chilling while she leaves everything for me to figure out, and then if I slip up even once, she’ll be riding my back about how I didn't step up enough for the rest of my life. I know deep down I should probably just sit her down for a real talk, but honestly, that feels like a losing battle because it'll just look like I'm being difficult or don't want to help, and I'm pretty sure that would only make things way more awkward for both of us.
I honestly don't even know where to start or how to process this, but everything just feels completely surreal right now. Every single day lately, I’ve just been praying to just about anything that can hear me—begging for the strength to get through whatever is coming next, both for her and for myself. And look, sorry for the massive vent, but I’m officially done crying my eyes out; I need to just spit all this out somewhere before it starts eating me alive from the inside. 🙂

Look, if you’ve got all your paperwork ready, I’d say head straight toward the Petrov Department to see Dr. Vujić. He usually holds clinic on Mondays, but you can't just wander in—you definitely need an appointment first. Your best bet is to go up to the second floor at the department and just hang tight until he's available. I actually have the direct number for the unit if you need it; you can always call to check when he's on duty. This isn't just some random advice, either; I'm telling you from experience...
If anyone is looking for a surgeon for gynecological procedures, he’s absolutely the guy you want...

Sending nothing but strength and good vibes to you and your mom while you guys fight through this.

Kate Morgan66 said:My advice—take all the paperwork straight to the Petrov Department to see Dr. Vujić; he’s usually at the clinic on Mondays, but you definitely need an appointment first... Just head up to the second floor and wait for him as long as it takes... I’ve got the department number if you need it, you can always ask when he's on duty... This is a direct recommendation from someone who knows...
If anyone is going to perform gynecological surgery, he's the guy...

Wishing your mom and you nothing but the best in this fight.

We're pulling some strings, won't go into details... Basically, things aren't looking good at all. From what I managed to read, and just speaking as a complete layman here, it actually looks pretty terrifying;

Suspected TM abdominis in ops metahepatis; a solid cystic expansive mass measuring 22.8x14 cm and 5x24 cm.
An adenoma on the adrenal gland that shows up as hypodense.
C 53.9, or an unspecified malignant tumor in the cervix.
There's also mention of some kind of shadow on the lungs and something in the breast. I don't have the full picture yet since I don't have the discharge papers in front of me; I'll know more once they arrive later today.
Total horror movie!!!