Resources and support for families dealing with cancer and serious illness

Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:A word of advice to everyone: if you’ve been diagnosed with MM or even just suspect it might be brewing, go get that screening done. Soon, they'll be offering it at the Mayo Clinic via a standard referral, but honestly, even if you have to pay out of pocket, every single cent spent on this test is worth it.

vividowl10 said:My father passed away on October 20th, following six months of an incredible, grueling battle.

The only solace I find is that he drifted off like an angel, and that he remained on his feet almost until his very last day.

I feel completely hollow—one moment I am disoriented and angry, and the next I am composed, feeling a sense of relief that he didn't suffer and that he fought until the bitter end. It is a relentless cycle...

I want to send my deepest gratitude to everyone who reached out with advice; I thank you all to the heavens.

A special kiss to the "old guard."

I honestly believe I could write a book on prostate cancer and bone metastasis, so if anyone ever needs guidance or just a little support, I will always be here.

Best regards,
Ines

vividowl10 said:My dad passed away on October 20th—after six months of an absolutely relentless fight.

The only thing keeping me grounded is knowing he drifted off like an angel, and that he stayed on his feet until almost the very end.

I feel completely hollow right now—one minute I'm totally disoriented and angry, and the next I'm composed, feeling a sense of relief that he didn't have to suffer and that he fought until the finish line. It’s just... constant waves of everything.

I really want to reach out to everyone here who offered advice when I needed it most; I can't thank you enough.

A special hug to the "old guard" too.

Honestly, I feel like I could write a textbook on prostate cancer and bone metastasis at this point—so if anyone ever needs advice or just a little guidance, I'll be right here.

Best,
Ines

Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:Hello to all the brave souls on this forum.

My partner is only 24, and he’s been battling melanoma for five years now. We truly believed surgery had solved everything; we had so many plans for our future. Then, two weeks ago, a PET/CT scan showed metastasis in the lymph nodes.
Even though I've lived in fear of this exact result for years—knowing deep down this scenario was possible—I still can't wrap my head around it. My entire world flipped upside down in an instant. Nothing feels the same anymore. Not the colors, not the sounds. Nothing.
The only thing keeping me going, the only reason I get out of bed every morning, is a sliver of hope. I hold onto the belief that he might be the one to defy those grim statistics and land in the positive column. I will do absolutely everything in my power to make that happen. That is why I am here. I need to hear about your experiences, your advice, any useful information at all. Anything that might help, especially regarding malignant melanoma.

Starting today, I’m going back to the very first post in this thread. I suspect a lot of vital information has already been shared.

vividowl10;11035047 said:My dad passed away on October 20th, after fighting an incredible battle for six months.

The only thing that brings me any peace is knowing he went out like an angel and that he stayed on his feet almost until the very end.

I am so deeply sorry for your loss. Your dad was lucky to have a daughter like you, and that bond is a blessing—a memory you'll carry forever and a true testament to what it means to be a family that loves one another.

vividowl10 said:My dad passed away on October 20th, following a six-month battle that was nothing short of incredible.

The only real comfort I can find in all of this is knowing he went out like an angel in his sleep, and that he stayed on his feet and kept fighting right up until the very end.

I feel completely hollow sometimes, just drifting through these moments where I’m totally disoriented and angry, only to suddenly snap back into being composed again, feeling this quiet sort of satisfaction that he didn't suffer and that he fought until the very end. It’s just an endless loop like that.

I just wanted to take a second to send out a massive thank you to everyone here who stepped up with advice when I needed it most; honestly, I can't thank you all enough.

A little extra love for the old crew.

I honestly feel like I could write an entire book on prostate cancer and bone metastases at this point, so if anyone out there finds themselves needing a bit of advice or just some small help navigating it all, please know I’m always here.

Hey there,
Ines

Carol Sanchez2 said:Hello everyone!

I am still following along here—reading, weeping, reflecting, laughing... My mother has been handling her treatments quite well, and she just received her penultimate session today. This means there is one more round of chemo left, followed by radiation. I feel a profound sense of relief seeing how resilient she remains through it all. We did run into some hurdles regarding low white blood cell counts, specifically neutrophils, but ever since she started taking beta Glucan, her immune system has stabilized beautifully, preventing any delays in her chemotherapy schedule. Perhaps this little insight might prove useful to someone else out there...

Stay strong, everyone! 👍

vividowl10 said:My father passed away on October 20th, after a grueling six-month battle.

The only solace I find is that he fell asleep like an angel, and that he remained upright and fighting until almost his very last day.

I feel completely hollow—one moment I am disoriented and angry, and the next I am composed, feeling a sense of peace knowing he didn't suffer and fought until the end. It just keeps cycling like that...

I want to extend my deepest gratitude to everyone who reached out with advice; I truly cannot thank you enough.

A special kiss to the "old guard" here...

I feel as though I could write a book on prostate cancer and bone metastasis, so if anyone ever needs guidance or just a little support, I will always be here.

Best regards,
Ines

Lisa Harris59 said:My father passed away on July 15th from esophageal cancer.

Even though it wasn't actually metastatic disease; rather, his final round of chemotherapy was apparently a bit too "aggressive," according to his oncologist, which led to him being sent for a biopsy due to a suspicious node.

This caused some thinning of the lung parenchyma—essentially the lung tissue—and it’s much like poking a tiny hole in a balloon; once it starts leaking, it deflates so rapidly that there's nothing left. That was the case with my father; just ten days after receiving that specific treatment, he began experiencing chest pains.
The issue was lymphatic fluid accumulating because of that damaged tissue, and once fluid begins to fill the lungs... well, I really shouldn't go into all the grim details.

Everything seemed to be going so well; he didn't even lose his hair, and he was managing his checkups perfectly because he felt quite strong, even planning to start back at the school where he worked this coming semester.

And so it goes...

I find some small comfort in knowing he wasn't in pain, especially since he didn't have a single metastasis; we spoke on his very last day, and I could see the cold sweat breaking over him. I knew I was losing him, yet I kept telling myself everything would be fine.
By tomorrow morning, he will have moved on to the next world.

Even today, while lighting a candle at his graveside, I find myself struggling to believe he's truly gone. It happened all too fast.

My friends, please stay strong. Keep your faith in those who are recovering, and try to remain positive, regardless of how heavy things feel. Just keep fighting, no matter how difficult the path becomes.

If there is any way I can support anyone here, please reach out; I will gladly do whatever I can.

vividowl10 said:My dad passed away on October 20th, after fighting an incredible battle for six months.

The only thing that gives me any peace is knowing he went out like an angel and that he stayed on his feet almost until the very end.

Lisa Harris59 said:My dad passed away on July 15th from esophageal cancer.

Even though he didn't actually pass from metastases—it was more that his last round of chemo was a bit too "intense," or so his oncologist put it—and they ended up sending him for a biopsy because of a suspicious little nodule.

That ended up causing some thinning in his lung parenchyma, basically the lining of the lungs, which is kind of like if you poke a tiny hole in a balloon; it just deflates so incredibly fast and there's nothing left. That’s exactly what happened with my dad; about ten days after receiving that specific treatment, he started feeling pain in his lungs.
The issue was lymph fluid building up because of that lung damage, and once water starts filling the lungs... oh goodness, I really shouldn't go into all those medical details.

And the thing is, everything had been going so well! He didn't even lose his hair, and he was so proactive about going to all his checkups because he felt absolutely wonderful; he was actually planning to start back at work for the new school year since he worked at a school.

And just like that..

If it's any consolation, he wasn't in pain, especially since he didn't have a single metastasis. We were talking on his very last day, and then he broke out in a cold sweat. I knew deep down I was losing him, but I kept telling him, "It's okay, everything is going to be fine."
By tomorrow morning, he will have moved on to the next world.

Even today, while I was lighting a candle at his graveside, I still can't quite wrap my head around the fact that he's gone. It all happened so fast.

My dear friends, please stay strong. Keep so much faith in those who are recovering, and try to stay positive no matter how incredibly difficult things get. Just keep fighting, no matter how hard it feels.

If there is anything at all I can do to help anyone, please reach out; I would truly be happy to do whatever I can.

Elizabeth Gonzalez55 said:Angela Wright and Nancy Hernandez43, thank you both so much for the support—your posts really meant the world to me and helped me stay afloat!

Carol Sanchez2—it all started with this one weirdly shaped wart on his leg, so just to be safe, he went in for a checkup. It turned out to be early-stage melanoma, so they did a minor surgery under local anesthesia, and they told him he wouldn't need chemotherapy because there were no signs of metastasis; the sentinel lymph node biopsy came back negative.
We spent five years doing regular follow-ups with perfectly clear results (every three months for the first year, then every six months after that), and honestly, it lulled us into a false sense of security. We finally relaxed and thought we were completely in the clear.

But now, we’re right back at square one. Only this time, the disease isn't in its early stages; it's advanced. And if we hadn't gone through with the PET/CT scan, we never would have known how far it had spread. My advice to everyone: if you've been diagnosed with MM or even if you just have a nagging suspicion, go get that scan done. Soon it'll be available via referral at the major university hospital, but even if you have to pay out of pocket—trust me, every single cent spent on it is worth it.

Carol Sanchez2 said:So what exactly is a PET/CT scan? I actually went in for a mole checkup the other day since I have quite a few, and my dermatologist flagged a couple of them for monitoring. She just looked at them, so I don't really get how she can tell if something is bad just by looking. Shouldn't there be some kind of lab test or deeper screening?