#1 ·
I’m reaching out to you on behalf of my 53-year-old parent, who is currently battling Ewing sarcoma. We are living in a small town outside of Indianapolis, and right now, we are still in that incredibly difficult, uncertain stage where the diagnosis hasn't been 100% confirmed yet.
I know this text is incredibly dense and detailed, but please, I beg you not to let that discourage you from reading through it. We truly, deeply believe in you and in the potential of Breuss's total cancer therapy.
My dad was admitted to the abdominal surgery ward back on July 10, 2008, after an abdominal CT scan picked up a mass—basically a localized swelling or thickening—in the right retroperitoneal area.
About three months ago, he started dealing with all those classic symptoms of lumbosacral syndrome, so he’s actually been working closely with his neurologist to get everything under control.
I’ve tried everything from various analgesics to nerve blocks, but honestly, nothing seems to be making a dent.
Before he was admitted, his right lower leg started swelling up quite a bit because the pressure from the tumor was pushing against his iliac artery.
I’ve been looking over my recent scans, and it looks like there is some nerve plexus involvement on the right side of my pelvis. It’s one of those things where you read the report and just have to sit there for a second, trying to wrap your head around what it actually means for the next steps in treatment.
He was just diagnosed with an abscess.
I was just sitting here thinking about everything that’s been going on lately, and I can't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the sheer weight of this diagnosis. Dealing with a primary retroperitoneal sarcoma is one thing, but having it all hit at once really makes you stop and reflect on how quickly life can shift. It’s a heavy realization to process, and honestly, there are moments where I just have to sit with the gravity of it all before I can even begin to figure out the next steps.
On July 11th, they performed the surgical procedure to remove the tumor.
The doctors managed to drain a moderate amount of purulent fluid from the site, and they’ve also moved forward with performing a tissue biopsy to get a clearer picture of what we're dealing with.
The abscess was actually quite massive—it measured about 170mm in length and roughly 70x95mm in width. It stretched all the way down alongside the psoas muscle right to the pelvis, where it was pressing directly against the iliac arteries and veins, as well as the sacrum and the coccyx.
The abscess had actually started spreading toward my lower back, moving right along the muscles next to the spine, and it measured about 48x55x72mm.
The scans actually picked up some signs of osteolytic changes in the cranial portion of the sacroiliac joint, right around the level of the S1 vertebra; most of that activity seems to be concentrated within the sacral body itself, though there’s also a smaller amount showing up in the S1 transverse process.
We didn't actually find out any of this until we received the discharge papers. Right after the surgery was over, the doctor told us that they had successfully cleared out the infection, so things are finally starting to look up.
Back on November 14, 2006, he had to undergo surgery because his appendix actually ruptured, and looking back now, we truly felt like the issue wasn't fully resolved or properly handled at the time.
The entire contents of the intestinal tract were essentially what triggered that severe, purulent inflammation we're seeing. It’s honestly quite overwhelming when you think about it, but throughout all our discussions, absolutely nobody had even breathed a word about a potential tumor.
On July 24th, he was finally discharged from the hospital, and he spent those following days just waiting on the pathology results, which he eventually received at...
Monday, August 4th—it’s officially been 25 days since the surgery.
The primary physician mentioned that the biopsy results were being processed over in Indianapolis, but honestly, it sounds like the pathologists were left completely in the dark about what they were actually looking at.
It’s working, so they actually sent him over to Washington, D.C.
So, the thing is, that little tissue sample hasn't actually left the local hospital in Indianapolis yet.
The pathology report describes pieces of tumor tissue that histologically consist of monotonous...
The pathology report shows these solid masses composed of tiny cells characterized by chromatin that looks somewhat rounded, granular, and partially serrated. There’s so little cytoplasm present that the nuclei actually end up pressing against one another and deforming their shapes. I didn't see any evidence of mitosis, though there are extensive areas of necrosis throughout. Most concerningly, the tumor tissue is actively infiltrating the skeletal muscle.
The immunohistochemistry results just came back, and honestly, it’s a bit of a mixed bag to process. They ran tests for CK, CD45, CD20cy, and S-100, but everything turned out negative. It feels like we're standing in a bit of a waiting game now, looking at a blank slate where we expected some markers to light up.
The pathology results just came back, and they show that the Vimentin test is positive. Looking at the histology, everything points most likely toward either Ewing's or Askin's sarcoma.
It’s definitely a sarcoma, though we're still waiting on those final immunohistochemistry results—specifically the CD99 markers—to officially confirm the diagnosis.
We might need to look into getting some cytogenetic processing done on the tumor tissue.
Back on Wednesday, August 6th, the surgeon stepping in for the head physician sat us down to explain what was going on, noting that they were dealing with a bone tumor in the bowel area that is specifically characteristic of childhood cases. He actually mentioned that in all his 23 years of medical practice, he had never encountered this particular type of sarcoma before, which definitely added a layer of weight to the conversation for our family. We’re currently waiting for Saturday, August 9th, when an oncologist is traveling in from Indianapolis to meet with us; we're hoping they can provide some much-needed clarity and more specific details about the next steps.
We headed over to the Mayo Clinic, really holding onto that sliver of hope that we could finally secure a bed and figure out our next steps. Once we were there, an internist told us straight up that the diagnosis wasn't actually complete yet, insisting we needed more tissue biopsies done at a local specialty center. Then, almost in passing—like they were just checking off a box—they suggested we should just head home and prepare for the end, claiming it wasn't even worth attempting surgery or radiation. It was honestly devastating to hear, especially because the oncologist we met with this past Saturday completely debunked those claims, setting the record straight on everything they had told us.
Last Friday, August 8th, we headed over to our primary care physician to get the necessary referrals sorted out for some immunohistochemistry testing and a few other diagnostic procedures.
She actually reached out to the pathology department over in Indianapolis to get some clarity on the situation, and they let her know that the tissue sample wasn't really up to par for a proper analysis because it had started to degrade. It’s one of those frustrating setbacks where you feel like you're just spinning your wheels, but apparently, the pathologist is away on vacation right now. We should be able to get the glass slides containing the tissue back in our hands by Monday, which will then allow us to ship everything off to the specialists at the Mayo Clinic, though we still need to figure out who is going to handle the logistics for that.
I can't help but wonder if we'll ever actually get some real answers or if we're just going to be left hanging indefinitely. It feels like we're all just sitting here, staring at the ceiling, waiting for some kind of breakthrough or a clear update that might finally tell us what's really going on.
Last Saturday, August 9th, our oncologist sat us down to explain the next steps, and it sounds like we’re at a bit of a crossroads regarding the procedure. They mentioned that once the surgeon consults with the pathologist, they'll make a final call on how to proceed—either by sending the tissue sample off for analysis or by having the oncologist refer Dad to an orthopedic specialist at the Mayo Clinic to perform a direct bone biopsy. It's a lot to process, but we're just trying to stay ahead of everything and make sure he gets the most precise diagnosis possible.
Tomorrow we’re heading in to plead with our primary care physician for a referral, because we have an appointment scheduled at Mount Sinai this coming Tuesday, August 12th.
The thing is, after two months of treatment, we still don't have a definitive diagnosis, and the doctor didn't even bother requesting a bone scan while we were waiting for the tissue biopsy results.
In a moment of total desperation, while I was frantically scouring the internet for everything related to cancer, treatments, and holistic healers, I stumbled upon—thank God—your blog, and I’ve been reading everything from November 2006 through June 2008.
I honestly couldn't believe my eyes! It all seems so straightforward (though, of course, it isn't for the patients going through it over those 42 days), and seeing how many people have endured this and actually succeeded gives me such hope. I felt like calling my family right at midnight just to scream with joy because we finally found a glimmer of hope. The very next day—on Saturday, when we went to see the oncologist—I bought Mr. Breuss's book. We’ve studied everything, bought a juicer, and gathered all the teas.
Dad started drinking vegetable juice today along with some light meals to prepare his system. He says the beet makes it taste a bit like dirt to him.
I am reaching out because I really need your advice: back in May and June, he suffered through excruciating pain in his spine and his entire right leg due to a massive infection, and things were made worse because they misdiagnosed him with sciatica and gave him the wrong nerve blocks. During his hospital stay, he lost about 22 pounds (he’s down to about 143 lbs now), and I’m genuinely terrified that he might not be strong enough to handle a strict regimen, even if it’s the best path forward, because of the lack of protein intake and the way the body breaks down proteins within the tumor and the swelling itself.
It looks like surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy might be necessary, and I understand that Breuss's therapy isn't recommended during those times.
Our plan was to stick to grain soups, skinless chicken broth, boiled chicken, fish, whole grain bread, soy, black rice, grapes, and other light, healthy foods, while incorporating sage tea, kidney tea, knotgrass tea, and bone cancer tea, along with vegetable juice and red onion soup. What would you suggest? We haven't been able to find the *Meum mutellina* herb needed for the bone cancer tea at any local pharmacy.
Also, should we be doing biochemical blood and urine tests, a complete blood count, liver enzymes, or thyroid hormone panels before and after the therapy starts?
For the most part, his blood work looked okay, except for elevated lymphocytes (which I assume is from the inflammation; his C-reactive protein was 108 mg/L, whereas it should be around 5), though his tumor markers were within the normal range.
Regarding enemas, can he drink lukewarm chamomile tea or take half to two tablespoons of castor oil? And should he be drinking plenty of water?
I read that dry brushing is beneficial, as well as a millet course (cooked with finely minced vegetables) for various types of bone pain (he’s currently using a cane because his right leg was so swollen). Now that the swelling has gone down, the pain only comes and goes. Would it be helpful to massage his leg with St. John's Wort oil?
We are waiting with bated breath for your response and guidance, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
Please forgive the length of this message; I just wanted to make sure I explained everything clearly since we've been trying to piece it all together from books and the web.
THANK YOU SO MUCH!
I know this text is incredibly dense and detailed, but please, I beg you not to let that discourage you from reading through it. We truly, deeply believe in you and in the potential of Breuss's total cancer therapy.
My dad was admitted to the abdominal surgery ward back on July 10, 2008, after an abdominal CT scan picked up a mass—basically a localized swelling or thickening—in the right retroperitoneal area.
About three months ago, he started dealing with all those classic symptoms of lumbosacral syndrome, so he’s actually been working closely with his neurologist to get everything under control.
I’ve tried everything from various analgesics to nerve blocks, but honestly, nothing seems to be making a dent.
Before he was admitted, his right lower leg started swelling up quite a bit because the pressure from the tumor was pushing against his iliac artery.
I’ve been looking over my recent scans, and it looks like there is some nerve plexus involvement on the right side of my pelvis. It’s one of those things where you read the report and just have to sit there for a second, trying to wrap your head around what it actually means for the next steps in treatment.
He was just diagnosed with an abscess.
I was just sitting here thinking about everything that’s been going on lately, and I can't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the sheer weight of this diagnosis. Dealing with a primary retroperitoneal sarcoma is one thing, but having it all hit at once really makes you stop and reflect on how quickly life can shift. It’s a heavy realization to process, and honestly, there are moments where I just have to sit with the gravity of it all before I can even begin to figure out the next steps.
On July 11th, they performed the surgical procedure to remove the tumor.
The doctors managed to drain a moderate amount of purulent fluid from the site, and they’ve also moved forward with performing a tissue biopsy to get a clearer picture of what we're dealing with.
The abscess was actually quite massive—it measured about 170mm in length and roughly 70x95mm in width. It stretched all the way down alongside the psoas muscle right to the pelvis, where it was pressing directly against the iliac arteries and veins, as well as the sacrum and the coccyx.
The abscess had actually started spreading toward my lower back, moving right along the muscles next to the spine, and it measured about 48x55x72mm.
The scans actually picked up some signs of osteolytic changes in the cranial portion of the sacroiliac joint, right around the level of the S1 vertebra; most of that activity seems to be concentrated within the sacral body itself, though there’s also a smaller amount showing up in the S1 transverse process.
We didn't actually find out any of this until we received the discharge papers. Right after the surgery was over, the doctor told us that they had successfully cleared out the infection, so things are finally starting to look up.
Back on November 14, 2006, he had to undergo surgery because his appendix actually ruptured, and looking back now, we truly felt like the issue wasn't fully resolved or properly handled at the time.
The entire contents of the intestinal tract were essentially what triggered that severe, purulent inflammation we're seeing. It’s honestly quite overwhelming when you think about it, but throughout all our discussions, absolutely nobody had even breathed a word about a potential tumor.
On July 24th, he was finally discharged from the hospital, and he spent those following days just waiting on the pathology results, which he eventually received at...
Monday, August 4th—it’s officially been 25 days since the surgery.
The primary physician mentioned that the biopsy results were being processed over in Indianapolis, but honestly, it sounds like the pathologists were left completely in the dark about what they were actually looking at.
It’s working, so they actually sent him over to Washington, D.C.
So, the thing is, that little tissue sample hasn't actually left the local hospital in Indianapolis yet.
The pathology report describes pieces of tumor tissue that histologically consist of monotonous...
The pathology report shows these solid masses composed of tiny cells characterized by chromatin that looks somewhat rounded, granular, and partially serrated. There’s so little cytoplasm present that the nuclei actually end up pressing against one another and deforming their shapes. I didn't see any evidence of mitosis, though there are extensive areas of necrosis throughout. Most concerningly, the tumor tissue is actively infiltrating the skeletal muscle.
The immunohistochemistry results just came back, and honestly, it’s a bit of a mixed bag to process. They ran tests for CK, CD45, CD20cy, and S-100, but everything turned out negative. It feels like we're standing in a bit of a waiting game now, looking at a blank slate where we expected some markers to light up.
The pathology results just came back, and they show that the Vimentin test is positive. Looking at the histology, everything points most likely toward either Ewing's or Askin's sarcoma.
It’s definitely a sarcoma, though we're still waiting on those final immunohistochemistry results—specifically the CD99 markers—to officially confirm the diagnosis.
We might need to look into getting some cytogenetic processing done on the tumor tissue.
Back on Wednesday, August 6th, the surgeon stepping in for the head physician sat us down to explain what was going on, noting that they were dealing with a bone tumor in the bowel area that is specifically characteristic of childhood cases. He actually mentioned that in all his 23 years of medical practice, he had never encountered this particular type of sarcoma before, which definitely added a layer of weight to the conversation for our family. We’re currently waiting for Saturday, August 9th, when an oncologist is traveling in from Indianapolis to meet with us; we're hoping they can provide some much-needed clarity and more specific details about the next steps.
We headed over to the Mayo Clinic, really holding onto that sliver of hope that we could finally secure a bed and figure out our next steps. Once we were there, an internist told us straight up that the diagnosis wasn't actually complete yet, insisting we needed more tissue biopsies done at a local specialty center. Then, almost in passing—like they were just checking off a box—they suggested we should just head home and prepare for the end, claiming it wasn't even worth attempting surgery or radiation. It was honestly devastating to hear, especially because the oncologist we met with this past Saturday completely debunked those claims, setting the record straight on everything they had told us.
Last Friday, August 8th, we headed over to our primary care physician to get the necessary referrals sorted out for some immunohistochemistry testing and a few other diagnostic procedures.
She actually reached out to the pathology department over in Indianapolis to get some clarity on the situation, and they let her know that the tissue sample wasn't really up to par for a proper analysis because it had started to degrade. It’s one of those frustrating setbacks where you feel like you're just spinning your wheels, but apparently, the pathologist is away on vacation right now. We should be able to get the glass slides containing the tissue back in our hands by Monday, which will then allow us to ship everything off to the specialists at the Mayo Clinic, though we still need to figure out who is going to handle the logistics for that.
I can't help but wonder if we'll ever actually get some real answers or if we're just going to be left hanging indefinitely. It feels like we're all just sitting here, staring at the ceiling, waiting for some kind of breakthrough or a clear update that might finally tell us what's really going on.
Last Saturday, August 9th, our oncologist sat us down to explain the next steps, and it sounds like we’re at a bit of a crossroads regarding the procedure. They mentioned that once the surgeon consults with the pathologist, they'll make a final call on how to proceed—either by sending the tissue sample off for analysis or by having the oncologist refer Dad to an orthopedic specialist at the Mayo Clinic to perform a direct bone biopsy. It's a lot to process, but we're just trying to stay ahead of everything and make sure he gets the most precise diagnosis possible.
Tomorrow we’re heading in to plead with our primary care physician for a referral, because we have an appointment scheduled at Mount Sinai this coming Tuesday, August 12th.
The thing is, after two months of treatment, we still don't have a definitive diagnosis, and the doctor didn't even bother requesting a bone scan while we were waiting for the tissue biopsy results.
In a moment of total desperation, while I was frantically scouring the internet for everything related to cancer, treatments, and holistic healers, I stumbled upon—thank God—your blog, and I’ve been reading everything from November 2006 through June 2008.
I honestly couldn't believe my eyes! It all seems so straightforward (though, of course, it isn't for the patients going through it over those 42 days), and seeing how many people have endured this and actually succeeded gives me such hope. I felt like calling my family right at midnight just to scream with joy because we finally found a glimmer of hope. The very next day—on Saturday, when we went to see the oncologist—I bought Mr. Breuss's book. We’ve studied everything, bought a juicer, and gathered all the teas.
Dad started drinking vegetable juice today along with some light meals to prepare his system. He says the beet makes it taste a bit like dirt to him.
I am reaching out because I really need your advice: back in May and June, he suffered through excruciating pain in his spine and his entire right leg due to a massive infection, and things were made worse because they misdiagnosed him with sciatica and gave him the wrong nerve blocks. During his hospital stay, he lost about 22 pounds (he’s down to about 143 lbs now), and I’m genuinely terrified that he might not be strong enough to handle a strict regimen, even if it’s the best path forward, because of the lack of protein intake and the way the body breaks down proteins within the tumor and the swelling itself.
It looks like surgery, radiation, or chemotherapy might be necessary, and I understand that Breuss's therapy isn't recommended during those times.
Our plan was to stick to grain soups, skinless chicken broth, boiled chicken, fish, whole grain bread, soy, black rice, grapes, and other light, healthy foods, while incorporating sage tea, kidney tea, knotgrass tea, and bone cancer tea, along with vegetable juice and red onion soup. What would you suggest? We haven't been able to find the *Meum mutellina* herb needed for the bone cancer tea at any local pharmacy.
Also, should we be doing biochemical blood and urine tests, a complete blood count, liver enzymes, or thyroid hormone panels before and after the therapy starts?
For the most part, his blood work looked okay, except for elevated lymphocytes (which I assume is from the inflammation; his C-reactive protein was 108 mg/L, whereas it should be around 5), though his tumor markers were within the normal range.
Regarding enemas, can he drink lukewarm chamomile tea or take half to two tablespoons of castor oil? And should he be drinking plenty of water?
I read that dry brushing is beneficial, as well as a millet course (cooked with finely minced vegetables) for various types of bone pain (he’s currently using a cane because his right leg was so swollen). Now that the swelling has gone down, the pain only comes and goes. Would it be helpful to massage his leg with St. John's Wort oil?
We are waiting with bated breath for your response and guidance, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
Please forgive the length of this message; I just wanted to make sure I explained everything clearly since we've been trying to piece it all together from books and the web.
THANK YOU SO MUCH!