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

Amanda Miller69 said:My sister-in-law is visiting from Sweden today (she works in medicine), and a friend of hers who works over in Jordan mentioned he saw my father-in-law. He said he’ll probably head in for surgery this Wednesday, but we’re heading over to see him this afternoon, so we’ll get the full scoop then.
It's an issue with the sphincter; I know Native stuff won't fix this, but it might just be what you suggested—getting his levels up before the procedure.
I'll ask about his glucose too, though I find it hard to believe they're incompetent enough to have skipped that step.
The doctor taking over while he's under Medicare is a professor, so I assume some expert actually knows what they're doing, but hey, it never hurts to double-check.

Honey, I have seen so much stupidity in my time that I’ve occasionally wondered why I didn't just enroll in medical school myself instead of wasting my time here on TTF...
Regarding the doctors managing the case and their vacations: in my experience, the relief doctor often avoids digging too deep into the specifics because they don't want to accidentally insult the primary doctor's professionalism. They tend to stay out of each other's lane, mostly just playing it safe to avoid any "preventable errors." That’s why summer and the holidays around Christmas and New Year's are the absolute worst times to get sick and end up stuck in a hospital.

I never thought I’d see the day where I’d actually have to post something on this thread, but life just has a way of hitting you out of nowhere without asking permission... Anyway, we found out today that my mom has pancreatic cancer. 😢

It all started with these pains in her back, right under her right shoulder blade—just this dull, constant ache that wouldn't quit. She kept complaining about her spine hurting, then trouble breathing, then she lost her appetite and just started wasting away. My brother and I both thought it was weird, especially since the doctors told her, "You're fine, ma'am, it's just psychosomatic. Go get some spinal therapy, and here’s a cocktail of meds for your anxiety..." Honestly, just total garbage doctors say when they have no clue what's actually wrong. So she took those pills for a week or two, went to her massage appointments, but her appetite just wouldn't come back. That’s when the alarm bells went off for us. We Googled her symptoms, and my search came up with liver cancer, while mine pointed straight to pancreatic. Since everything is centered in the abdomen, we rushed her to a private clinic for an ultrasound and, of course—they found something near the pancreas. That was last Friday. Everything has been moving at light speed since then: getting her hospitalized (we had to pull some strings because our local hospitals won't take you unless you're basically on your deathbed), the CT scan, and then this horrible news... She’s going in for surgery this Thursday. They’re going to try to remove the whole tumor since it hasn't metastasized to other organs yet, but the prognosis isn't great... What hurts the most is that she had a checkup back in March and everything looked perfect. The report said her pancreas looked normal and...

Now I'm sitting here wondering: how am I supposed to cope with one parent having cancer, and the absolute worst, deadliest kind? The kind where the chances of survival are practically zero? My dad passed away five years ago from lung cancer; he was gone within three weeks of being admitted. He smoked his whole life, so we understood why it happened. But Mom? She wasn't in any risk group for pancreatic cancer. She was never sick, never even stepped foot in a hospital in her 60 years. She doesn't smoke, hasn't touched coffee in 15 years, no alcohol, no diabetes, no obesity, no family history of cancer... NOTHING. So how am I, at 25, supposed to find the strength to fight, for us to fight? I'm not usually the emotional type—I've always been solid as a rock—but this is just too much... 😢

Hey Richard Martin5, I know you're going through it right now, just like everyone else who’s been through this hell on this forum. Honestly, there aren't any words that actually help at a time like this, but you've gotta try to stay level-headed because your mom needs you focused. The prognosis isn't great, but if you look at the bright side, the doctors actually want to operate and it hasn't metastasized yet. It’s going to be a brutal fight ahead, but plenty of people pull through. Why couldn't your mom be one of them? Sending you guys nothing but luck in fighting this jerk, and hang in there—it isn't over until it's over.🙂

Richard Martin5, don't let them get to you. Don't give in to the hopelessness. You’re going to need every ounce of strength, both for yourself and for your mom. Like John Foster38 says, the silver lining is that there aren't any metastases and Mom is heading into surgery. After that—it's full-on battle mode!

Drop by here whenever things get heavy. I don't post much because I'm just wiped out and life keeps throwing curveballs at us, but I'm reading everything every single day. Honestly, just being able to read this helps. Knowing you aren't alone, that people actually get it and want to help... it matters.

My dad ended up back in the ICU again today. He hasn't been urinating since yesterday, his skin started itching like crazy, and he was incredibly restless. They drew blood this morning and the results are just awful. Creatinine is around 700, urea is 37, potassium is 6.8, and his sedimentation and white cell counts are through the roof. As soon as he was laid down in the ICU, he started wheezing—could barely breathe. Long story short, it's not looking good. His kidneys are failing, so all the fluid has shifted into his abdomen and lungs. They're going to try antibiotics to settle the inflammation and if they can, they'll look into dialysis. To be honest, the doctor on duty isn't feeling optimistic at all. I can't even remember half of what she said; everything is just a total blur right now.

I keep spiraling back a few months to when we first got the diagnosis and the prognosis. I can't sit still, I can't sleep, I can't even think straight...

The only saving grace in all of this is that his medical team called us the second the results came in, around midnight. They had an ambulance organized for transport immediately. He was admitted to the ER and processed the moment we walked through the door, and by 4 AM he was already hooked up to monitors, on oxygen to help him breathe, with a catheter and an IV full of whatever they could find to help him out.

Olivia Gray54 said:...

I find myself wondering: how am I supposed to come to terms with the fact that my other parent has cancer too—and the absolute worst, most lethal kind? The kind where the odds of recovery are essentially zero. My father passed away five years ago from lung cancer; he was hospitalized and gone within three weeks. Since he was a lifelong smoker, we understood why it happened, but this feels entirely different. My mother didn't fit any of the typical risk profiles for pancreatic cancer. She wasn’t ever sick, she never had reason to step foot in a hospital in her sixty years. She doesn't smoke, hasn't touched coffee in fifteen years, doesn't drink alcohol, and has no issues with diabetes or obesity. There is a family history of cancer, sure, but otherwise, nothing. Nothing at all. So, how am I, at twenty-five years old, supposed to find the strength to fight—to keep fighting? I've never been particularly emotional; I've always been someone who stands firm like a rock, but this is simply too much.😢

Dear Richard Martin5, I truly understand what you're going through. I lost my father—though it was to a heart attack, three years before losing my mother to ovarian cancer. Now, my father-in-law is battling cancer as well, so I find myself facing that same ugly reality all over again.
Stay strong. You need to hold it together right now, but remember that whenever things get too heavy, you can always come back here and vent. I'm here for you.

It seems I'm seeing nothing but bad news here today, so I don't have much better to report myself.

I think I finally cornered the doctor yesterday with some rather pointed questions, and he finally laid it all out for me. The cancer has progressed to Stage IIIC; it has breached the esophageal wall and spread to the lymph nodes, including those near the stomach. Essentially, the advanced stage of the cancer is what's driving these current postoperative complications where they just can't get his digestive system functioning again.
He mentioned they won't be discharging him until this is resolved, but who knows if that will ever actually happen... I have a nagging feeling he may never leave this hospital.
Yesterday, they gave him a blood transfusion along with glucose and sodium chloride (if my memory serves), which seemed to bring him back to life for a moment, but by evening, he was vomiting something greenish again. They also switched his "food" over to Prosura.
Also, my sister-in-law stopped by yesterday—she's a nurse, by the way—and she noticed some yellowing on his neck, which is definitely not a good sign.
I'm assuming it’s related to the liver; I'm not sure if it's starting to fail. My mother had that same yellowish tint to her face when her liver began to shut down... they are running a urine culture today to get a clearer picture of the situation.
In short, things are not looking good.

Amanda Miller69 said:I’m seeing nothing but bad news here today, so I don't have much better to report myself.

I think I finally wore the Doctor down yesterday with my relentless questioning, and he finally laid it out straight: the cancer has progressed to Stage IIIC. It’s breached the esophageal wall and hit the lymph nodes—including the ones near the stomach. Essentially, the advanced stage of the cancer is what's causing these current post-op issues where he just can't get his digestion working.
He said they won't be discharging him until they get this sorted, but who knows if or when that actually happens... I have a gut feeling he might never leave that hospital again.
Yesterday, they gave him a blood transfusion, glucose, and sodium chloride (if I remember correctly), which seemed to perk him up a bit, but then he was back to vomiting something greenish by the evening. They also switched his "food" over to Prosura.
Also, my sister-in-law came by yesterday—she's a nurse, by the way—and noticed some yellowing on his neck, which definitely isn't a good sign.
I’m guessing it’s liver-related; I don't know if it's starting to fail? My mom had that yellowed look in her face when her liver began to give out... they’re running a urine culture today to see what else is going on.
Bottom line: things aren't looking good.

Ugh 😢
That yellowing could also be bile since he’s constantly vomiting.
Well, at least you managed to push the Doctor into giving you the real story.
Look, you need to try and lower the tension now. What happened, happened, but it doesn't mean the game is over. You have to take it one day at a time. He needs some mental lifting right now. I'm sure it meant the world to him having his daughter visit.

Thanks everyone for all the support. Honestly, we’re holding up pretty well considering everything, and Mom is staying so positive. We're all right there by her side. 🙂The surgery is tomorrow. If everything goes according to plan, then we'll figure out the next steps...

To be honest, if I weren't a believer and Mom wasn't such a woman of faith, I don't know how we'd be handling this whole situation. But seeing her stay so incredibly calm despite the prognosis? It's something else. She’s cheerful, cracking jokes, eating and drinking what she can—well, as much as that tumor allows since her appetite isn't great—and whenever we're with her, we just try to keep things light and drown out the negativity. I can see how much it means to her; it really keeps her going. 🙂
Please keep her in your thoughts tomorrow. We need all the good vibes we can get! 🙂

Fiz, hang in there—you and your father-in-law too. No matter how tough or hopeless it feels, just stay positive and don't give up. I'll be praying for you both. 🙂

Angela Wright said:Ugh, 😢
That yellowing might actually be due to bile since he’s constantly vomiting.
Well, at least you managed to get the Doctor to finally lay out the facts.
Look, we need to bring the tension down a notch. What’s happened, happened, but it doesn't mean the game is over; we just have to take it one day at a time. We really need to find a way to lift his spirits mentally. I'm sure having his daughter there means the world to him.

I spent the entire day with him today... and naturally, she managed to find out that MRSA is also present (which is what I suspected, and probably why they have him in isolation), and she mentioned they are prepping him for surgery.
It does offer a glimmer of hope for what comes next; yesterday, everything felt incredibly bleak.
He's taken a massive psychological hit, but having his daughter around should help buoy him up a bit.
He even told me not to visit every single day just so I don't end up catching MRSA myself.

Well, I'm glad you finally found out about the MRSU... 🙄
Hopefully things will actually start moving in the right direction now.

Olivia Gray54 said:Thanks everyone for the support. Believe me, I'm actually holding up pretty well considering everything, and Mom is staying incredibly positive—we’re all right there by her side. 🙂 The surgery is tomorrow, so if everything goes according to plan, we'll see what the next steps look like...

Honestly, if I weren't a believer and if Mom wasn't such a woman of faith, I don't know how we would be handling this whole situation. But seeing her so incredibly calm despite the prognosis is something else. She’s cheerful, she cracks jokes, she eats and drinks (well, as much as that tumor allows since her appetite isn't great), and whenever we're with her, we all try our hardest to lift her spirits and drown out any negativity... I can tell how much that means to her, and it really keeps her going. 🙂
Please keep her in your thoughts tomorrow; she needs all the good vibes she can get! 🙂

Zachary Howard2, hang in there—both you and your father-in-law. No matter how heavy things feel or how hopeless it looks, stay positive and don't throw in the towel. I'll be praying for you both. 🙂

I read your first post and it honestly hit me right in the gut. It brought back that whole feeling of helplessness, despair, and pure frustration that comes with such a damn hopeless diagnosis, especially when Mom lived such a saintly life...😢...
...but now I want to tell you that she does have a chance, and she absolutely needs to take it and fight. If it's God's will, He will reward her faith and her strength... you just have to take it one day at a time, and I can see your mom is mentally wired exactly for that. That's huge.

Tell me, did Mom enjoy BBQ and smoked meats?
I remember reading an article somewhere about how in the Midwest, there's a high number of people suffering from thyroid issues specifically because of those kinds of dietary habits. Apparently, it's terrible for the thyroid. Similarly, gallstones can damage the thyroid and potentially trigger cancer.

Olivia Gray54 said:Thanks everyone for the support. Honestly, I’m holding up surprisingly well given everything, and Mom is staying incredibly positive. We’re all right there by her side. 🙂 The surgery is tomorrow, so if all goes according to plan, we'll finally see what our next steps look like...

To be honest, if I weren't a believer—and if Mom weren't such a woman of faith—I don't know how we would be handling this whole situation. But seeing her stay so remarkably calm despite the prognosis is something else. She’s cheerful, she cracks jokes, and she’s still eating and drinking (as much as that Tumor Clinic diagnosis allows, since her appetite isn't quite what it used to be). When we're with her, we all try our best to keep her spirits up and steer clear of any negativity... I can tell it means the world to her, and it really keeps her going. 🙂
Please keep her in your thoughts tomorrow; she could really use all the good vibes we can send her way! 🙂

Zachary Howard2, hang in there—both you and your father-in-law. No matter how heavy things feel or how impossible it seems, try to stay positive and don't lose heart. I'll be praying for both of you. 🙂

Thank you, 🙂
Even though I wouldn't call myself particularly religious (I'm not exactly a regular at the local church), I find myself praying every day—not just for my own family, but for anyone struggling with illness.
I will definitely be keeping your mother in my prayers too 🙂.

Fiz and Pixie, I'm praying for your loved ones too.

Angela Wright said:I read your first post and it honestly just hit me right in the gut. It brought back that whole feeling of helplessness, despair, and pure frustration when you're facing such a damn hopeless diagnosis, especially with your mom being as saintly as she is 😢...
...but I want to tell you now: she has a chance. She really does, and she needs to take it and fight. If that’s the Almighty's will, He'll reward her faith and her strength... you just have to take it one day at a time. From what you wrote, it sounds like your mom's mindset is already there. That’s huge.

Tell me, did your mom ever enjoy BBQ or smoked meats?
I remember reading an article once about how in the Midwest, a lot of people deal with thyroid issues specifically because of those kinds of eating habits. Apparently, it’s terrible for the thyroid. Same goes for gallstones—they can mess with the thyroid and even trigger cancer.

I know, we're all fighting and trying to stay positive 🙂 Look, my mom actually had surgery this morning; my brother said they called him and everything seems okay so far, it went well. That was a big relief for us.
And yesterday? Mom went out for a hair appointment, got her nails done, put on makeup—she was a totally different person! Smiling, joking around that she had to look "pretty for the procedure." 😁
If you saw her, you’d think she was in the hospital for a cracked Rib, not cancer. But that's just who she is—tough as nails. If she wasn't like that, she never would have raised me and my brother or survived all the crap life threw at her...

Angela, my mom wasn't much of a BBQ or meat lover herself. Every now and then she'd grab a sausage or some bacon, but mostly she lived on fruit, veggies, soups, stews, teas, dairy... she’d even crush bread in milk. Nothing extra unhealthy. Honestly, I think stress played a massive role for her. She always felt like she had to keep quiet, endure everything, and never complain. She didn't even have the luxury of complaining; all the hard stuff just seemed to break on her, but she just took it stoically. I don't think it helps to ask "why" now. You just have to accept where things are and fight. 🙂

Olivia Gray54 said:....And then Mom yesterday: she went for her hair, her manicure, did her makeup—she was a completely different person! Smiling, acting playful, just so she could be "pretty enough for the procedure."😁
When you look at her, you’d honestly think she was in the hospital for a cracked Rib, not cancer.

It feels like you're describing my mother... she always kept herself put together and polished; she stayed that way right up until her final days, never stepping out without fixing herself up, even when heading to the hospital.😁.
Moments like these are heavy; they make me sad, yet they bring back such beautiful memories. It’s that bittersweet feeling.

I am glad to hear the surgery went well. I'm wishing her a speedy recovery so she can get back to the fight.

Olivia Gray54 said:I know, we’re all fighting this and trying to stay positive 🙂 Here’s an update: Mom had her surgery this morning; my brother said they called him to let him know everything went well and she's doing okay for now. That was the main thing we were praying for.
And yesterday, Mom actually went out for her hair, a manicure, put on some makeup—she looked like a completely different person! Smiling, joking that she had to look "pretty for the procedure." 😁
If you saw her, you’d think she was in the hospital for a cracked Rib, not cancer. But that’s just who she is—a rock. If she weren't that strong, she never would have raised my brother and me, or survived all the nonsense life threw her way...

Ivanica, Mom was never much of a BBQ or meat lover: she’d have a sausage or some bacon every now and then, but generally, she lived on fruit, veggies, soups, stews, teas, dairy, or even just bread soaked in milk. Nothing particularly unhealthy. I honestly think stress played a huge role; she always felt she had to stay quiet, endure everything, and never complain. She didn't even have the luxury of complaining—life just kept piling things on her, but she took it all stoically. I suppose asking "why" doesn't serve much purpose now; you just have to accept the reality and fight. 🙂

My mother dealt with that same awful disease. As for risk factors—nothing stands out, BUT, I see a massive similarity in the psychological profile. I don't have any flowery words or empty comforts for you, please forgive me. I'm just sending you one big hug.

I have to admit, my sister-in-law is an absolute force of nature. She really stepped up at the hospital today because, as a nurse, she noticed things that my husband and I—being non-medical folks—completely missed. She ended up calling out a professor, the attending physician, the head nurse, and the floor supervisor. To quote her Facebook post: "What I witnessed on Tuesday and all day yesterday was simply too much to stomach. I went there first thing this morning... I stood my ground and laid everything out for them, point by point: the lack of hygiene, the inhumane treatment, the poor patient care, and the inadequate medical management. I spoke with the head nurse, the clinic’s head nurse, the hospital’s head nurse, the doctor, and finally the professor. Now they’re hovering around him and me because I have more than enough grounds to file a formal complaint and take this public. They keep talking about blood work results, but looking at the temperature logs, there's no record of when the blood was even drawn, nor is there any evidence of a needle prick site. I’m not naive. I demanded a CRP test, a CBC, a glucose profile, and others just to see if there's actual infection present. To start with, he didn't receive food yesterday, even though he heard during rounds that he was being prepped for surgery. Today, they're acting like they don't know what happened. I asked them if we were living in the 19th century, where a patient could actually die from malnutrition and hunger. They claimed he couldn't eat by mouth and couldn't use the gastrostomy. Well, of course he can't, because it’s been neglected and hasn't been used. He finally received food, vitamins, and everything else today, and he perked up immediately. They massaged him, cleaned him up, and changed his dressings. And they honestly expect me to believe that bandages stay on for 24 days without starting to fuse to the skin? On top of that, the janitor is handing out meals after touching infectious waste without any protection. It’s appalling. The drain wound is inflamed and oozing pus, and the redness on his back is inches away from becoming a pressure ulcer. To make matters worse, the sun is beating directly onto him through the window. They actually had the nerve to tell my mother-in-law that she should just bathe him herself—just a casual, arrogant suggestion. They're defending bloody, infection-ridden sites. Everything is a mess. And now, they're asking if we might want a television in the room."

Sorry for the long post, but this is genuinely horrific. She spent all of yesterday and today at my father-in-law's bedside. She’s making me feel guilty for not noticing these things sooner, but I don't know the medical side of things like she does. It feels like if you aren't a healthcare professional, they can literally kill a family member through sheer negligence and you wouldn't even know it.

Fiz, I’m going to put this under the price of a cardboard box: this is enough to drive anyone absolutely insane! 🙂🙂🙂

Honestly, I am getting such contradictory information; just now, my medical student was chatting with a friend of his who is a doctor over at the Mayo Clinic, and he happened to be reviewing my brother-in-law’s latest lab results.
He mentioned the CRP dropped from 380 down to 100, which sounds like great news, though I haven't been able to find any reliable reference ranges for it anywhere—does anyone happen to know what the standard values are? The white blood cell count has also gone down, which suggests the inflammation is subsiding; there is no sign of MRSU, and the Candida issue has been resolved. They performed an X-ray, food transit seems fine now, and his muscle tension has eased up. Some are suggesting that his current issues with eating and movement are mostly psychological at this point, given that he just lies there staring into space.
In any case, the labs themselves look promising considering the stage of the illness (it is Stage IIIB, after all), and they promised that both the professor and this other doctor would provide both me and my sister-in-law with the full reports and a complete breakdown of the blood work. She is heading over there now to verify everything.

I told my sister-in-law that we really need to lift his spirits and practically force him to eat (they are going to try solid food today) and get him moving, rather than just lying there paralyzed by his own thoughts.
Regarding his discharge, he technically could come home, but they won't release him yet because he is still too weak; he needs to regain some strength first.

The CRP needs to be under 5

Seeing that CRP drop all the way from 380 down to 100 is actually a pretty solid sign; it shows the antibiotics they picked are hitting the mark and the patient is responding exactly how we'd want them to.