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

copperbison4 said:My deepest condolences, driftingsurfer14—I noticed you hadn't posted in a while, and rather than asking how things were, I simply hoped for the best...

Thank you both,

Things became incredibly complicated with my father—those severe headaches were actually caused by melanoma metastasis (he had surgery with Paladino back in March)—and everything has just gone downhill since then. 😢
I am slowly adjusting to the reality that he is gone—though it feels like it might take the rest of my life to truly process it—because I still find myself expecting him to walk through the door at any moment. 😢

driftingsurfer14, I am so incredibly sorry. I know exactly what you're going through. It’s almost been a year since my dad passed away, and honestly? It still hurts just as much. Sometimes even the smallest thing hits me out of nowhere and I'm just crying. I miss him so much...

driftingsurfer14 said:Thanks to you both.

Things got incredibly complicated with my dad. Those severe headaches were actually the fallout from melanoma metastasis (he had surgery with Paladino back in March), and everything has just spiraled downward since then. 😢
I'm slowly trying to wrap my head around the fact that he's gone, but honestly, I feel like it'll take the rest of my life to truly process it because I still find myself expecting him to just walk through the door at any moment. 😢

I am so incredibly sorry...😢 When melanoma hits like that, it’s such a damn brutal disease.

I see you've become a mother in the meantime. I really hope she brings you endless joy; while nothing can ever truly replace a loved one who's passed, I hope she provides some sense of comfort. Wishing you all the best, dear, and congratulations on taking on the most important role of your life.

Angela Wright said:I am truly sorry to hear this...😢 Melanoma is such a devastating disease when it strikes like this.

I see you have become a mother in the meantime—how wonderful. I hope she brings endless joy to your life; while no child can ever replace a loved one who has passed, I hope her presence offers some comfort. Wishing you all the best, dear, and congratulations on the most important role you will ever hold.

Thank you!
Yes, my little one is already four months old. I was so overjoyed during my postpartum period—but then came his diagnosis toward the end of my pregnancy, followed by his passing just recently—so we have been living in a state of constant tension. Still, the baby is progressing wonderfully and keeps me occupied; it certainly makes things different than if I were facing this alone.

My hands are actually shaking while I type this... I feel for everyone on this thread and I know all too well what you're going through... My dad was diagnosed with melanoma last year... It was removed and his first checkup back in December showed absolutely no signs of it coming back. The second follow-up, just now at the 6-month mark, showed the exact same thing... But then, just two weeks after that appointment, it turns out there are metastases in his brain... Now he’s facing surgery at Mayo Clinic followed by radiation... There aren't even words to describe what I'm feeling right now. I really, truly believed we had caught it in time, but I guess we didn't...

Hey Arthur Cooper6, I am so sorry to hear about your dad's metastasis. I know exactly how you're feeling... I don't know a ton about this stuff myself, but there are people here who have dealt with way more than I have, so hopefully they'll reach out. The situation sucks, but I really believe things will look up for him once he gets through surgery and radiation. Try to stay strong and keep it together (easier said than done, I know) because he’s going to need you. Sending you guys nothing but luck with everything ahead!

Angela Richardson10 said:My hands are shaking while I type this... I truly empathize with everyone in this thread—I know exactly what you're going through. My dad was diagnosed with melanoma last year. It was removed, and his first checkup six months ago showed no signs of return. The second follow-up just now showed the same thing. But then, two weeks after that appointment, we found out there are metastases in his brain. He’s facing surgery at Rebro followed by radiation. There aren't enough words to describe how I feel right now. I really hoped it had been caught in time, but unfortunately, it wasn't.

Dear Arthur Cooper6, I know exactly what you are experiencing—my father faced the same diagnosis. To be honest, if we had known about the brain metastases, I don't think we would have agreed to the surgery, especially the radiation. Instead, he had to endure all that cutting and surgical hardship, only for there to be no help available. My father was operated on by Dr. Paladino, and his oncologist was Dr. Herceg. I assume you have researched your options thoroughly and decided on this path accordingly. I am deeply saddened that you have to deal with such a diagnosis—I truly hope the prognosis for your father is better than it was for mine.😢

OrchidLover said:deleted content

Under the law, you’re required to turn medications like these over to the AMA or a local pharmacy. Advertising, selling, or donating them is strictly illegal.

Thanks for the kind words... I get what's going on here...
It’s honestly tough even scrolling through these threads, let alone knowing you're actually going through the exact same thing...
My heart just goes out to everyone here who's had to say goodbye to someone...

Arthur Cooper6, unfortunately, we all know exactly what you’re going through here. Sending you guys so much strength for the fight 🙂

Quick little update on our situation. After nearly two months off because his kidneys were failing him, Dad started back on Xelod. Honestly, it’s probably the only thing that makes sense given the metastases and how he’s doing overall. But man, it didn't even last long this time—after just seven days, his kidneys started acting up again. This time, the ER staff didn't even bother asking if we wanted him to stay; they just shoved him straight into the GI intensive care unit. He spent three days there not even getting out of bed, barely eating, just lying there naked watching people die all around him. Since he wasn't getting any treatment that couldn't be handled at home, we finally brought him back

Basically, we're managing those intense pains that landed him in the hospital with Voltaren injections. For most of the day, Dad is actually pain-free and totally present 😍 he’s walking around a bit, has a decent appetite, we talk, we laugh. He’s even planning to go fishing with my husband one of these days 😍

The ultrasound they did at the hospital showed necrosis in his liver and a new tumor about the size of a hand on his peritoneum. He’s really not sure if he wants to keep up with the Xelod anymore. Before the first cycle, he wasn't in any pain, but during this second round, the pain became absolutely unbearable. With the tumor growing, the meds don't seem to be doing anything, and he just doesn't see the point in all this torture. I honestly don't know what to think 🙂

So yeah. We have a follow-up with the oncologist next week, so we'll see what happens.

Thanks, Carl Kern6... yeah, unfortunately, we all know that far too well here..
Sending so much strength and courage to your family, too..
Nothing new on our end. Dad is currently on therapy to help reduce the brain swelling, and he should be getting transferred over to the Mayo Clinic next week. Sorry if my last post was a mess, my vision just gets blurry when the tears start coming down...

We’re just waiting on the surgery tomorrow... they’ve already shaved him down, given him some of that bitter saline solution, and hooked him up to the IV... Honestly, seeing him like that broke my heart; I couldn't help the tears when I was leaving today. I'm just praying that everything goes smoothly tomorrow and that the results are positive—fingers crossed it hasn't spread further.

Amanda Miller69 said:We’re waiting on the surgery tomorrow... they already shaved him down, gave him some bitter solution to drink, and hooked him up to the IV. It absolutely broke my heart leaving him today; he was just sitting there in tears. I’m just praying that tomorrow’s results come back good and that things haven't spread too far...

He’s a fighter, he'll pull through this. Things are rough right now, but once he wakes up from the procedure tomorrow, everything is going to feel different. I really hope it’s still caught early enough—you guys definitely did the right thing by getting this handled immediately.

Zachary Howard2, I’m pulling for you, man. Hope everything turns out okay. Let me know how it goes.

Linda Patel21 said:Zachary Howard2, I am truly rooting for you. Please let us know how everything turns out.

Thank you.

I’ve received an update: the surgery went fine, no complications reported, and thankfully, nothing appears to have spread further. The only catch is that some lymph nodes were slightly enlarged. This could be due to localized inflammation, or it might indicate metastasis that hasn't migrated beyond the nodes themselves. We won't know for sure until the pathologist finishes their report in a day or two. That result will ultimately dictate whether chemotherapy is necessary.
For now, she'll be in the ICU for the next four or five days before being moved back to a regular hospital room.

🙂🙂Zachary Howard2, glad you’re doing alright after the surgery. Fingers crossed everything stays on track. Honestly, I just found out a friend's mom was diagnosed with cancer today—it's everywhere, full of metastases, and there's nothing they can even do. I am so sick of all this bad news lately. Seriously, what is even happening?

Amanda Miller69 said:Thanks.

I just found out the surgery went fine—no complications. It hasn't spread any further, though the lymph nodes are slightly enlarged. That could just be from inflammation, or it might mean there are metastases that haven't moved past the nodes yet. We’ll know more in a day or two once the pathology report is ready. Everything hinges on that for deciding if chemo is necessary.
For now, she's in the ICU for the next four or five days before moving back to a regular hospital room.

Look, seriously, ask around about that whole "maybe we don't need chemo" scenario... I've seen cases where people thought they were clear, only for things to flare up out of nowhere. If you're looking at that option, you absolutely have to get a second opinion, especially given how tricky this diagnosis is... damn it, I'd go through an extra round of adjuvant therapy in a heartbeat just to make sure every last cell is dead.

I really feel for everyone here because I know exactly what you're going through. I honestly wish I'd found this forum sooner when I was dealing with all of this with my dad. But, I guess I wanted to ask you guys something. I'm not totally sure if it was just because I was so exhausted at the time and couldn't really wrap my head around things, but I had such a hard time with the doctors. It was like they gave me zero information, or maybe just way too little to actually be helpful. Every time I tried to ask them something, they looked at me like I was some kind of alien asking the most ridiculous questions ever. It’s just such an awful, helpless feeling.

Nicole Alvarez81, I felt the exact same way. Looking back, everyone actually told me everything I needed to know, I just couldn't wrap my head around it at the time. My emotions were so overwhelming that I completely missed the obvious. Don't get me wrong, doctors can be pretty tight-lipped—they could definitely put in a bit more effort sometimes. But when I replay the whole thing in my head, those blunt, short sentences they gave me contained the whole truth. I just wasn't ready to accept it; I was waiting for them to sugarcoat things or say something comforting to make me feel better. Of course, they wouldn't lie to me, and clearly, they weren't going to. That feeling of total helplessness just wrecked me. Even now, almost a year later, I'm still struggling. Life moves on, but it’s still heavy.

Linda Patel21 said:Nicole Alvarez81, I think I felt the exact same way you did, and looking back, I guess people were actually telling me everything I needed to know, I just couldn't wrap my head around it at the time. My emotions were just so overwhelming that I couldn't see what was right in front of me. I mean, I'm not saying the doctors aren't a bit stingy with their words or that they couldn't try a little harder to be more supportive sometimes... but when I replay the whole thing in my mind, I realize those short, blunt sentences actually contained the truth, it's just that I wasn't ready to accept it. I think I was just waiting for them to say something comforting, or maybe give me some glimmer of hope. But honestly, they would have just been lying to me, and I guess they didn't want to do that. That feeling of being totally helpless really crushed me, too. Even now, nearly a year later, I still struggle with it, and man, it’s tough, even if life keeps moving forward.

It's totally possible that's exactly what happened to me. Everything still feels so raw and fresh, so maybe after some time passes, I'll be able to look back and finally get it. For me, the whole experience was just this massive bubble of emotions, kind of like walking through a thick fog.