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

Amanda Miller69 said:It’s over... my father-in-law passed away about an hour and a half ago... :-(

Losing someone close to you is always a heavy burden, and no matter how hard we try to find the strength to accept that their suffering has finally come to an end, there simply aren't any words that can truly ease the grief... I am sincerely sorry that Fiona has to endure another loss, and honestly, it feels like a defeat in the struggle against life itself... It’s just unfair. They say that no one truly dies as long as we carry them in our hearts and minds...

Hang in there...

We are doing alright. Mom actually escaped the hospital and decided to head home on her own responsibility. Apparently, being at home has already "improved" her condition... though the conditions at our local hospital were clearly taking a toll on her. She’s eating well now, keeping up with her antibiotics, and seems to have regained some strength. Our only real issue is this swelling—large patches on her joints, which I suspect is a side effect of the antibiotics. She’s been drinking nettle tea, and while I’ve read about using essential oils for joint discomfort, she isn't really up for that right now. I haven't quite delved into an intensive internet search yet, but if anyone here has dealt with something similar and found a specific cream that actually works... I would truly appreciate a recommendation. Thank you.

Thank you.
Well, we lost yet another battle, but at least the suffering has finally come to an end. Now, I just have to navigate the long days leading up to the funeral and get through the service itself.

I wish the rest of you nothing but strength in your own ongoing struggles.

Amanda Miller69 said:It’s over. My father-in-law passed away about an hour and a half ago :-(

Please accept my deepest condolences. I am so incredibly sorry that another battle was lost and that illness has taken a member of your family. I really hope he's in a better place now, somewhere without any pain or suffering. You have some heavy days ahead of you. Just try to do your best to stay calm and avoid too much stress, if only for the sake of your baby...

Zachary Howard2 my deepest condolences..

Zachary Howard2, please accept my sincerest condolences.

Thanks again, everyone.

The discharge summary mentions his blood pressure started dropping; he wasn't quite himself and was in quite a bit of pain. At least he passed away peacefully, having had the chance to say goodbye to his wife and son. His daughter didn't make it in time.

Hello... does anyone know which pharmacy has received the shipment of Megastat yet?

Oh man, Zachary Howard2, I am seriously so sorry... I can't even imagine everything you're having to deal with right now...

Amanda Wells75
Thanks for getting back to me
We’re honestly just trying our best to stay distracted at home—kind of just hanging out and keeping things light—because we know reality is what it is, and there’s no point in beating our heads against a wall or letting depression take over. It doesn't change anything.
We don't talk about the illness constantly, either... I can tell it really wears my mom out, and the last thing I want to do is exhaust her by looping through the same heavy conversations over and over again.
Looking back, it’s weird... we’ve actually never been closer or had such a great relationship, but then again, we've never been this heartbroken either, since we've never dealt with something this heavy hitting our immediate family before.
I don't know, maybe that's just how it works... you start valuing every single second, and all those little everyday things you used to take for granted suddenly feel so incredibly special and beautiful. It's just tragic that it takes something like this to make you realize it...
Honestly, I find myself putting off coming to this forum for days at a time, because it always just hits me so hard seeing anyone go through these kinds of brutal times.
I truly believe there's a cure out there—I really do—and I think so much could be done to prevent this or at least soften the blow, but we live in such a messed up world where everything is viewed through a dollar sign... it's almost easier to profit from treating chronic illnesses and oncology patients than it is to actually solve the root causes of the problems.
How many times have you seen those headlines on news sites claiming they've found a cure for cancer, only for it to vanish into thin air? Then it's just, "well, they'll be conducting studies for the next hundred years..."
And then there's the whole fact that hemp oil is still treated like it's illegal...

I never imagined I’d be posting on a forum like this, but I desperately need to talk to someone. After a lot of pushing and endless conversations, my dad finally agreed to see a doctor today. He’s been dealing with a laundry list of symptoms—though he was too stubborn to admit how bad they actually were—including weight loss, bloody stools, changes in bowel habits, and jaundice. It’s been devastating. The doctor told him it looks like cancer, most likely colorectal, and that surgery is on the table. The next steps are an exam and a biopsy. He is completely broken; this is a man who has never shed a single tear in his life, yet here he is, weeping and just giving up. I honestly don't know how to live with this reality. Even though we're still waiting on the results, based on everything he's experiencing, I'm certain it's malignant. I force myself to stay strong when I'm with him, but the second I get home, I break down. How am I supposed to get through this?

You just have to power through. Life throws things at you and there isn't much room for complaining; you simply have to keep pushing forward and deal with it, one day at a time.
I’ll be blunt with you: that yellowing you mentioned isn't exactly a great sign, and it suggests the liver is involved here.
It is what it is, though. You have to accept the reality and try to make the best of it. Once the actual fight begins, it’ll be a massive psychological relief for him and everyone else.
The initial shock is always the hardest part.

Angela Wright said:You just push through it. Life throws things at you, and there isn't much room for complaining; you simply have to keep moving forward and deal with it.
I'll be blunt with you: that yellowing you mentioned actually points toward the most optimistic scenario here, specifically regarding the liver.
It is what it is. You have to accept the situation and try to make the absolute most of it. Once the fight begins, it will be mentally easier for him and for everyone else.

I know, and that yellowing is exactly why I'm most worried—because I realize how far this has already progressed.😢 It’s devastating; my entire world collapsed in an instant. I have my own family to look after, so I have to stay strong for them, but he’s my father. He isn't even that old. How can I help him find the will to keep fighting? It feels like he's already giving up. :-(

Jessica Martinez79 said:Look, I never thought I’d be posting on this site, but I just need to talk to someone... Today, after a lot of pushing and talking, my dad finally decided to see a doctor. He's been loaded with symptoms—he just wouldn't admit it to himself: weight loss, bloody stools, changes in bowel movements, jaundice, and the worst part was the swelling. The doctor told him it’s likely cancer, probably colon cancer, and he needs surgery. First step is an exam and a biopsy. He’s absolutely crushed; this is a man who has never shed a tear in his life, but now he's crying, giving up... I don't know how to live with this. And I don't even know if it's malignant yet, though judging by the symptoms, it definitely is. I act strong for him, but when I get home, I break down and cry like crazy. How do you push through this?

Honey, it doesn't mean there won't be good moments left for your dad. You guys are just facing the reality of it.
My dad didn't even choose to go to the doctor; they had to rush him in after he collapsed at the table, unable to move because of the pain and fever. My mom was reading me his discharge papers from the first hospital yesterday. According to those doctors, his malignant tumor was estimated at 12x16 cm! She initially thought it was maybe 5 times something... But no, 12x16!
His abdomen is full of fluid, which is a sign of the late stages...
They couldn't even perform a colonoscopy because the tumor was too massive...
The doctor told us there wasn't much they could do, and the preliminary diagnosis was GIST....

We moved him over to the Mayo Clinic, where they operated. Dad says the doctor told him they basically took out the whole damn lamb... I still don't have all the details on what exactly was removed... Honestly, I don't even care about the specifics right now. I'm just happy that he isn't in pain and that he's eating so much we can't keep up with him at the hospital. Today he had turkey with noodles, beet salad, dessert, and pear compote. He's slowly getting his strength back for the heavy fight ahead.

I'm not expecting a miracle, but I'm hoping. He went to the doctor too late, yeah. But after the initial shock—when I was just sobbing and had already mourned him in my head—I suddenly felt this urge to fight because I see that he can. Whether it's one year, two years, five years, or a total cure, whatever it takes, we're fighting.

Right now, everyone is in shock, but you'll find your footing and things will improve.

Oh, right, in my dad's case, it's cancer of the splenic flexure of the colon. He's 62.

Exactly. The shock is totally normal, but you'll see that your dad will eventually start making sense of things too. Just try not to look too far down the road right now—focus on organizing everything one step at a time.
I remember it vividly myself; just yesterday I was looking back at my mother's first surgical report from February, which said the condition was inoperable. When the doctor told me the next day that we needed to prepare for palliative care, my legs literally went weak. And believe me, I am not an emotional person.
But after the surgery, six rounds of chemo, another surgery in July, four more rounds of chemo (one already done), and a HUGE amount of stressful, depressing, and even suicidal moments... she is almost healthy now. So, please, get through this initial shock, pull yourselves together, get organized, and just take it slow.

Sent from my iPhone

Thank you. Honestly, those were exactly the kind of supportive words I needed to hear right now. After spending the entire day in tears, I finally sat down to start doing some actual research into what this all means and how we move forward. For now, we just wait and take it one day at a time, as you all suggested. I truly believe his granddaughter will be a huge source of strength for him through this. We aren't going to just roll over and give up—he's only 60, after all. I know there are going to be dark days where the urge to throw in the towel feels overwhelming, but I refuse to let that happen. I have to stay strong. I’m an incredibly emotional person by nature, and things like this leave a permanent mark on me, especially since I'm so close with my dad. But I'll find a way to toughen up. Is it actually possible for cancer to be triggered by stress? He's dealt with a lot of intense pressure over the last year, and then this happens... Just as he's supposed to be entering retirement and enjoying life, he's stuck in a hospital instead. :-(

Just checking in here... unfortunately, I have some heartbreaking news to share. My fiancé passed away, just two months after the diagnosis was confirmed. Pancreatic cancer is incredibly sneaky—by the time you actually notice symptoms, it’s often too late, and then everything just moves at lightning speed.
Like one doctor told me: the pancreas is like a tiger; it sleeps peacefully, but once it wakes up, it swallows you whole.

I don't really have any words of comfort right now. I'm trying to cope, but it's so hard... I know life goes on, but I can't even begin to imagine a future without him.
I was holding his hand when he took his last breath. He knew he was slipping away, but he still managed to smile at me and say, "Goodbye, sweetheart." He squeezed my hand so hard that his nails dug right into my skin.
I know people go through all sorts of things, but I never could have imagined a pain this deep.

If I could offer any advice to those caring for someone with cancer, it would be this: do everything within your power. That's the only way to keep your conscience clear and avoid those agonizing "what ifs"—wondering if there was more you could have done. Time is such a massive factor when fighting this disease.

I just wish I could find more stories of people who beat this awful illness...

Wishing you all the best. To those dealing with sick loved ones: stay strong. When something like this happens, it leaves permanent scars on everyone watching their loved ones suffer.

I truly feel for you, Gary Barrett40.

Amanda Miller69 said:I really feel for you, Gary Barrett40.

Thanks, Fiona, you too.

Everything just feels so heavy right now... I think I might need to look into some professional help. Honestly, I'm just struggling to deal with this loss—the person I was supposed to spend my whole life with. 😕😕😕

Gary Barrett40, I am so incredibly sorry for your loss. 😢
I hope you find some peace in your heart and eventually discover a new sense of purpose to help you carry those precious memories forward. Take care of yourself!

Gary Barrett40 and Fiona, please accept my deepest condolences... It’s incredibly difficult to process when someone close to you is battling a serious illness, let alone facing the reality of their passing. Gary Barrett40, there is absolutely no shame in seeking support; don't hesitate to reach out. I truly hope you find some peace after everything you've been through.