Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Sophia Martinez58 said:analogfalcon2, as you can see, there's plenty of constructive advice here. It really just comes down to fighting and staying persistent—the mind is quite the perfect weapon.
When you fall, you have to pull yourself back up for your little comedian.

As for the usual pessimists and bores, I'll handle them myself.
You know who I am. 😉

Oh, of course, dear—don't you worry. Once that initial shock and panic subside, I'll be my old self again.
You know how I am—I'll fight for him with everything I've got. And, naturally, with your help.😉

Angela Wright said:Dear, I just wanted to say congratulations on having such an incredible outlook on life and for that wonderful post!🙏👍
If you're up for it, I’d love for you to post that over on our forum. www.zanovidan.com 😁

thanks Dorja 🙂
As for whether I'll actually get around to posting... I suppose we'll just have to see, won't we? It all really depends on whether the inspiration decides to show up.
Even though I signed up for this forum right away, I have to admit I’ve still been putting off actually stepping foot into that "ghetto." Is it just me, or does it feel like there's this invisible barrier keeping us from really diving in? 😁

So, I’ve been sitting here wondering—does anyone actually have a handle on how to best navigate the whole process of taking leave to care for a sick family member? It feels like one of those things where you're expected to just know the drill, but when you're actually in the thick of it, trying to balance everything, it's all a bit of a maze, isn't it? I'm curious if there's a specific way to regulate that kind of leave to make sure you aren't left completely stranded.
Even my primary care physician isn't entirely sure how many days I'm actually entitled to for caregiver leave to look after my mom right now. I'm staying by her side while she recovers from her surgery, just navigating the uncertainty of it all.
But how am I actually going to manage my sick leave later on, once the chemotherapy sessions start rolling in?

Does anyone know if there's any actual advice or useful info floating around on Zanovidan regarding this?

analogfalcon2 said:Of course, dear, don't you worry about a thing; once that initial wave of shock and panic finally settles down, I always find myself drifting right back to being my old self again.
You know me—I’m going to fight for him with everything I’ve got. And of course, I'll be doing it with your help by my side.😉

It seems like you might have sent that by mistake, or perhaps there's more you wanted to say? I'm here whenever you're ready to dive into the next part. 👍

Kimberly Wright said:thanks Dorja 🙂
I'll see about making another post later... depends on whether inspiration actually hits me.
Even though I registered on this forum right away, I have to admit I’m still putting off actually stepping foot into that "ghetto." 😁

So, here’s what I’m wondering: what’s the best way to navigate the whole caregiver leave situation when you're trying to support a sick family member?
Even my primary care physician isn't positive how many days I'm actually entitled to for caregiver leave to look after my mom. Right now, I'm staying by her side while she recovers from surgery.
So, how am I supposed to handle my sick leave later once the chemotherapy actually kicks in?

Does anyone have any advice or info regarding Zanovidan on there?

to! 👍

Just put the question out there. I'm sure there are people with actual experience around here who can weigh in.
And don't go delaying your entry into the "ghetto." Honestly, our whole mission is to "deghettoize" this entire issue—that’s exactly why this forum exists, why the association is active, and why we fight for everything we stand for.👍
The laws surrounding patient care and sick leave are a complete mess—totally unregulated and fundamentally broken. To put it bluntly, the way we handle caregiver seniority is a massive social cancer. It’s a systemic failure that eats away at the very foundation of our support systems.
We’re going to tackle this issue head-on, especially since we're dealing with a massive shortage of hospice care here in America. The only nation. It looks like they’re planning to launch a massive campaign for hospice and palliative care here in America this coming spring—at least, that’s how things are looking right now. For the time being, we’re just focusing on pulling together enough funds. 😁

Absolutely devastating.

Kimberly Wright said:thanks 🙂
I’ll have to see about posting more... it really depends on whether inspiration strikes.
Even though I registered on the forum right away, I have to admit I’ve been procrastinating on actually stepping into that 'ghetto.'😁

So, here’s my question: what’s the best way to handle caregiver leave for a sick family member?
Even my own GP isn't entirely sure how many days of leave I'm entitled to to care for my mom. Right now, I'm staying with her while she recovers from surgery.
But how am I supposed to manage leave later once she starts chemotherapy?

Is there any advice on this over at Zanovidan?

Exactly! 👍

In my case, I was only able to get four days for my mom, and that was that. I don't know if policies vary by company, but realistically, you should probably expect about a week.

Kimberly Wright said:thanks 🙂

So, I'm wondering—what's the best way to handle taking time off to care for a sick family member?

Last week my GP told me you can't actually get leave to care for anyone except a spouse or a kid—apparently, the official medical paperwork only even has spots for a partner or child. If you actually get along with your doctor, just talk to them about the situation. If not? Well, you're stuck. Just a heads up: a spinal issue gets you 14 days, while depression gets you 30 without needing a review board.

Angela Wright It seems like you're trying to share something, but the message didn't quite make it through—did you mean to quote someone, or perhaps you were just about to start a thought? I'm sitting here wondering if there was a glitch in the system or if you just hit send a little too early, though sometimes the most interesting conversations are the ones that start with a bit of a pause, don't you think? Anyway, I'm ready whenever you are.
Just putting the question out there. I'm sure there are plenty of people here who have actually walked this path and dealt with this before.
And let’s not fall into the trap of delaying our entry into the "ghetto"... honestly, our whole point is to "de-ghettoize" the entire issue, which is exactly why we have this forum, the association, and everything else we stand for.👍

It’s almost as if I already know the answer, isn't it?

It’s honestly a bit much how poorly regulated our laws regarding patient care and sick leave actually are, isn't it? Even the way caregiver seniority is treated—it feels like we've become a "cancerous wound" on the fabric of society, if you'll allow me to put it that way.
When we look at tackling this issue, we have to confront the reality that we're also dealing with a massive shortage of hospice care—something we struggle with here in America, too. Just one nation. It looks like they might launch a massive campaign for hospice and palliative care here in the States sometime this coming spring, assuming everything stays on track. Right now, we're just focused on gathering the necessary funds. 😁

If I can find the courage to step up, then count me in for the fight too. 😁

restlessorca35 Asks:
So, my GP dropped a bit of a bombshell on me last week—apparently, getting leave to care for a family member is strictly limited to just a spouse or a child. I was looking over the paperwork, and sure enough, the sick leave report only has specific sections designated for a husband or wife and kids. It’s one of those bureaucratic hurdles that feels so unnecessarily rigid, isn't it? If you happen to have a decent relationship with your doctor, maybe just sit them down and explain the situation; sometimes a little human connection goes a long way in navigating these systems. But if you don't have that kind of rapport, well, you're kind of stuck with the options on the table. From what I understand, if you're filing for something like spinal issues, you're looking at 14 days, whereas depression can get you up to 30 days without needing to go through a medical board review. It makes you wonder why the system is structured this way, doesn't it?

We’re honestly so lucky that both my mom and I ended up under the care of the same doctor—someone who actually takes the time to grasp the full scope of what we're dealing with. Since it's just the two of us, there isn't really anyone else to step in, which means the weight of looking after her falls entirely on my shoulders. Is there anything else? Just me.
So far, we've mostly just focused on the heavy lifting of taking care of a family member, though I’ve also been quietly considering how much of an angle we might take regarding depression down the road. 😬
For now, I’ve managed to get a decent handle on things within the company, but there’s this looming talk of "restructuring" hanging over our heads, which means I really need to be more strategic about how I handle my time off. It's all a bit of a balancing act, isn't it? I have to play my cards right with these absences because, at the end of the day, we all need the paycheck, and I simply can't afford to take any unnecessary risks with my job security.

I really need to double-check how that combination of unpaid leave works... hmm, let me think about that for a second.

Kimberly Wright said:So, we've exhausted the whole "caring for a family member" angle for now—I was actually thinking about playing the depression card later on, but why push it? 😬

Glad you figured things out.

Based on what's on the Medicare site, there's no legal way to get coverage for helping your own parents 😢
since they only allow:
sick leave for caring for an insured person—specifically a child up to age 3
sick leave for a family member—a child between ages 3 and 7
sick leave for a family member—a child older than 7
sick leave for a family member—a spouse (married or common-law)

restlessorca35 said:Based on what I've gathered from the Medicare website, it looks like there's no legal way to use insurance coverage to help out your own parents. It’s one of those bureaucratic hurdles that just seems to exist for no reason, isn't it? You'd think the system would allow for a bit more flexibility when it comes to family, but apparently, the rules are set in stone. 😢

Well, bravo. 😢

I honestly don't know. I think I'll just wait and see how things unfold before putting together a strategy, once we finally hear which specific chemotherapy regimen the oncologist decides to go with.

I'm new to this thread. In a way, I belong here too since I'm dealing with chronic lymphocytic leukemia, but I'm actually posting for a different reason.
My first real encounter with this kind of nightmare was when my father battled lung cancer—and unfortunately, he lost that fight.
Fast forward to two weeks ago: my mother-in-law had surgery to remove a tumor on her right ovary, and the pathology report confirmed it’s carcinoma. It wasn't a simple fix, either; the tumor had spread to involve the uterus and part of her intestine, which made the surgery incredibly complex because they had to carefully separate everything. They had to call in a specialist surgeon to handle the separation, which thankfully went well.
However, five days later, she developed a thromboembolism and was moved to the internal medicine ward. She’s supposed to be discharged tomorrow, provided her D-dimer levels drop.
So, I'm wondering if anyone here has experience with this specific type of carcinoma? What are the prognoses like? I know they're hard to talk about, but I'm looking for any personal insight you can offer. Also, how does someone deal with chemotherapy after having a thromboembolism? Right now, she feels absolutely terrible—just completely wiped out—and there is no way she's ready for chemo. On top of that, is there anything we can give her to help speed up the post-op recovery, even just a little?
Mentally, she’s hit rock bottom, and honestly, so have the rest of us. We all try so hard to put on a brave face for her, acting like everything is going to be fine, but truthfully? I’m holding onto hope by a very thin thread.
Please, if you can, share your experiences. It would really help us figure out how to organize ourselves and support her the best we can.
I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed and scattered right now; I might have missed something important, but if it comes to mind, I'll post it.😢😢😢

Sarah Johnson11 said:I’m new to this thread. In a way, I belong to this group myself since I’m battling chronic lymphocytic leukemia, but I’m reaching out for a different reason.
I first faced the reality of this brutal disease when my father was fighting lung cancer—and unfortunately, he lost that battle.
Two weeks ago, my mother-in-law underwent surgery for a tumor on her right ovary, and the pathology report confirmed it’s carcinoma. It’s worth noting the tumor involves the uterus and part of the intestine, which made the surgery itself incredibly complicated because they had to separate the tissues; they actually had to call in a specialist surgeon to successfully pull it off.
Five days after the procedure, she developed a thromboembolism and was moved to an internal medicine ward. She should be discharged tomorrow if her D-dimer levels drop as expected.
Now I’m wondering if any of you have experience with this specific type of carcinoma and what the prognosis looks like—though I know how hard it is to predict. More importantly, how can a patient dealing with a thromboembolism handle chemotherapy? Right now, she feels absolutely terrible and is nowhere near ready for chemo. Also, does anyone know of anything helpful to take during post-op recovery to speed things up just a little bit?
She’s hit a massive psychological low, and honestly, so have the rest of us. We’re all acting like everything is going to be fine just to stay strong for her, but truthfully, I’m only holding onto a tiny sliver of hope.
Please, if you can, share your experiences. It would help us organize ourselves and figure out how to provide the best support possible.
I’m feeling really heavy and scattered right now; I might have missed something important, but if it comes back to me, I’ll post it.😢😢😢

There was once a wonderful woman on this forum, dina9. She fought ovarian cancer for a full 13 years, and during that time, she also developed bladder cancer as a new primary site due to radiation.
I know she’d have something profound to say right now, and all I can conclude from her life is that anything is possible. Right up until her final days, she spent her time traveling around visiting people—many of whom were less sick than she was—just to lift their spirits.
Try searching for one of her old posts. Even now, her words radiate optimism and strength to everyone who reads them.

Angela Wright said:There was this absolutely wonderful woman who used to visit this forum, dina9. She battled ovarian cancer for a full thirteen years, and during that fight, she actually developed bladder cancer too—a new primary site caused by the radiation treatments.
I just know she would have had something incredibly wise to say right now, but all I can conclude is that anything is possible. Right up until her very last days, she spent her time traveling around visiting people who were often far less sick than she was, just to lift their spirits.
Try searching for one of her posts. Even today, her words radiate optimism and strength to anyone lucky enough to read them.

Thanks for getting back to me; I was actually hoping you might reply.
I’m going to go dig through some old posts now to see if I can learn more than what I currently know.
And honestly, even though hope is the last thing to die, talking to the doctor who performed my surgery—who told me the tumor tissue was basically in a state of decay and looked pretty grim overall—really stripped away that tiny shred of hope for a recovery.
Well, maybe someone else will chime in with their own experience.

Sarah Johnson11 said:I’m new to this thread. In a way, I belong to this group myself since I suffer from chronic lymphocytic leukemia, but I’m reaching out for a different reason.
I first encountered this kind of devastating illness when my father was battling lung cancer—and unfortunately, he lost that fight.
Two weeks ago, my mother-in-law underwent surgery for a tumor on her right ovary, and the pathology report confirmed it was indeed carcinoma. It’s worth noting that the tumor had spread to involve the uterus and part of her intestine, which made the actual surgery quite complicated due to the need for separation; they had to call in a specialist surgeon to handle it, which was successful.
Five days later, she developed a thromboembolism and was moved to the internal medicine ward. She should be discharged tomorrow if her D-dimer levels drop sufficiently.
Now, I’m wondering if any of you have experience with this specific type of carcinoma and what the outlook might be—though I know how difficult it is to discuss prognoses—and more importantly, how a patient dealing with thromboembolism can manage chemotherapy. Right now, she feels absolutely terrible and is in no state to start chemo, but I’m also looking for suggestions on what might help speed up post-operative recovery, even just a little.
She is struggling mentally, and honestly, so are we all. We’re doing our best to act strong and pretend everything will be fine, though truth be told, I’m only holding onto hope by a very slim margin.
Please, if you could share anything, it would help us organize ourselves and figure out how to support her as best we can.
I’m feeling quite overwhelmed and unfocused right now; I may have missed something important, but if I remember it, I’ll post it.😢😢😢

My mother had ovarian cancer, and sadly, she didn't make it.
It’s ungrateful to talk about prognoses because everyone’s journey is unique. To give you a concrete example, my mother was given six months, but she lived for two years. She completed six cycles of chemotherapy followed by another six rounds of oral chemo. To bolster her immunity and aid recovery, she used Biobran, raw propolis, and royal jelly, but nowadays you can find an immune-boosting supplement that claims to specifically target ovarian cancer.
As for thromboembolism, I don't know anything about it; we never had to deal with that.
The most vital thing is to keep her spirits up, ensure she feels your support, and help her find some form of distraction.
Up until her final days, my mother was still traveling, going to the theater, and attending concerts; she refused to let it break her.
I realize you probably have a thousand questions, so fire away.

Amanda Miller69 said:My mom fought ovarian cancer, and sadly, she didn't make it.
Predicting outcomes is... well, it’s a thankless task, really. Everyone is just different. In my mom's case, the doctors gave her six months, but she managed to stretch it to two years. She went through six rounds of chemo plus another six cycles of oral chemo. To help boost her immunity and aid recovery, she used things like BioBran, raw propolis, and royal jelly—but nowadays, you can find an immune-boosting supplement like Imunomax, which supposedly (according to the claims, anyway) even helps with ovarian cancer.
As for thromboembolism, I honestly don't know anything about that; we never had to deal with it.
The most important thing is keeping her spirits up, making sure she feels your support, and giving her something to focus on.
Up until her final days, my mom was still traveling, going to the theater, hitting up concerts... she wasn't one to just roll over.
I know your head must be spinning with a thousand questions, so go ahead—fire away.

First off, I am so incredibly sorry about your mother. Life is just... it’s cruel like that sometimes, and illness is relentless, but she’ll always be right there in your heart and your thoughts.

Thank you for the advice. It feels like everything just hit us all at once. Just fifteen days ago, she was a perfectly healthy woman without a single diagnosis to her name. Then, this morning, everything went sideways—blood in her stool, doctors running tests, and now she's been moved to the ICU with a diagnosis of duodenal ulceration.
I honestly can't wrap my head around how all of this is happening so fast, especially given her current state.
Whether she can even start chemotherapy is anyone's guess, considering how bad things look right now—she’s pale, completely helpless, barely able to hold a conversation. And we're sitting here feeling pretty useless, unable to do much to help until they stabilize her.
I should probably mention that the tumor on her right ovary has spread to the uterus and the intestines, and it was already starting to break down, so it's a very advanced stage. It makes me wonder if chemo will even be effective once they actually get her started on it. The doctors are being extremely vague; none of them will give us a straight prognosis or tell us anything concrete, even though we can see the situation is dire. They won't say just *how* bad it is. She doesn't even know the results of the pathology report yet—she doesn't realize it's definitely cancer or that chemo is looming. Poor thing, I think deep down she knows everything, and seeing the fear and panic in her eyes... she's just constantly in tears.
How did your mom handle the chemotherapy?
Did you guys use any specific medications to help with the nausea?
How long was she seriously ill toward the end, and did she have metastases in the abdominal cavity or further afield?
What are we actually facing here?
I wanted to ask so many more things, but everything is just a jumbled mess in my head right now and I can't focus.
Thanks for understanding.😢😢

Sarah Johnson11 said:First off, I am incredibly sorry to hear about your mother. Life can be brutally unfair sometimes, and illness is an unrelenting force, but please know that she will always hold a permanent place in your heart and your thoughts.

I really appreciate all the advice everyone has shared here. It feels like we’ve all hit a wall lately. Just fifteen days ago, she was perfectly healthy—no diagnoses, no issues, nothing. But things took a turn for the worse this morning; there was blood in her stool, which prompted the doctors to run some immediate tests. She has since been moved to the ICU following a diagnosis of duodenal ulcer perforation.
I honestly can't wrap my head around how all of this is playing out, especially given the absolute mess things are in right now.
It’s hard to say when she’ll be able to handle chemotherapy sessions again, given how much her condition has deteriorated. To put it bluntly, things look pretty grim right now. She’s incredibly pale and lacks the strength to even hold a basic conversation. At this stage, we’re feeling pretty helpless; we don't have many options to offer any real support until her current state is stabilized.
I have to be realistic here: the tumor on the right ovary has already spread to the uterus and the intestines. It was actually in a state of necrosis, which means we are dealing with an advanced stage of the disease. Given how far things have progressed, I find myself questioning just how much impact chemotherapy will actually have once she starts treatment. The doctors are being incredibly noncommittal about her prognosis. To be honest, none of them will give us a straight answer or even a hint of what to expect. They’re essentially staying silent, which, in my opinion, speaks volumes—it’s their way of not having to deliver the bad news we already know is coming. It’s hard to pin down exactly how dire the situation is when they refuse to say anything at all. She hasn't been told the results of the histopathology report yet. She doesn't officially know that it's carcinoma or that chemo is the next step on the horizon. But if you ask me, she already knows. You can see it in her eyes—she’s terrified, gripped by panic, and clearly struggling to hold back the tears.
How did your mother handle her chemotherapy sessions?
Has anyone here actually had any success using anti-nausea medications? I'm curious to hear about your experiences.
How long was she sick for, and how much did she struggle toward the end? Also, did the cancer spread to the abdominal cavity, or had it moved further?
What exactly are we looking at here? What does the future actually hold for us?
I had intended to dive deep into a whole host of questions, but honestly, everything has just become a tangled mess at this point. My brain is completely scrambled, and I simply can't seem to get my thoughts in order.
I appreciate your understanding on this matter.😢😢

My mother handled her initial rounds of chemotherapy relatively well. She dealt with some nausea, bouts of diarrhea, and the inevitable hair loss, along with some tingling sensations in her feet. To manage the nausea, she relied on Reglan, though sometimes the simplest things worked best—plain microwave popcorn and menthol hard candies actually provided some relief. She mostly just ate and drank whatever her body felt up to at the moment. People often suggest that Coca-Cola can help settle the stomach, though I know it’s certainly not something doctors would officially recommend for patients in her position.
After three rounds of chemotherapy—following some sort of newer protocol—there was absolutely no progress. They eventually switched her over to an older treatment, I believe it was Taxol, and that actually worked; her markers dropped, she underwent two surgeries, and things seemed fine for a while. Then, a few months later, the recurrence hit. She started oral chemotherapy, but it didn't do much of anything. A third surgery, where they essentially had to remove half of her intestines, finally took its toll. By then, the cancer had metastasized throughout the abdominal cavity—to the liver, the stomach, pretty much everywhere—and there just wasn't any help left to give. On top of all that, she developed a nasty hospital-acquired infection, and her body simply lacked the strength to fight it off. The whole ordeal lasted about a year and ten months. The cancer was caught at Stage IIIc, which is already quite advanced, but she fought it until the very end. Honestly, there were moments when I didn't think she’d make it; my father passed away from a heart attack just a year before her diagnosis. They were incredibly close, and I couldn't help but feel like she was just going to follow him.
Doctors rarely give you a straight answer when it comes to a prognosis. I remember asking Dr. Ćorušić—who performed my mother’s surgery over at the Mayo Clinic—exactly how much time she had left. He said something to me that I’ll honestly never forget: "I am neither God nor a fortune teller; at this point, it all depends on how your mother fights."
Generally speaking, you're looking at quite a battle ahead. It’s going to require a lot of steady support, and one of the most important things you can do is focus on keeping her immune system as strong as possible—I’d suggest looking into an immune-boosting supplement, beta-glucans, or perhaps some high-quality propolis. As for stabilizing her blood counts, a homemade juice made from beets, carrots, and apples can actually work wonders. I would also advise staying away from red meat, refined sugar, and white flour; there's a prevailing school of thought that cancer essentially feeds on those things.
There’s an excellent book by David Servan-Schreiber called *Anticancer*. It’s essentially a comprehensive guide for anyone looking to navigate cancer or focus on prevention through lifestyle changes. It covers everything from dietary adjustments to understanding the biology of the disease itself, and even touches on the psychological aspects of dealing with it.

I truly understand what you're going through; I've been in those exact shoes myself. Please, don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything at all. I'll help however I can and share whatever knowledge I have.
Hang in there.🙂

My father is battling dementia, and it’s been incredibly tough. He’s dealing with urinary incontinence, hearing loss, and his vision is down to about 50% in one eye. To make matters more complicated, his swallowing reflex has failed, so he’s relying on a feeding tube. We actually have to restrain him at night just to prevent him from pulling the tube out through his nose... It’s exhausting. He needs 24-hour care and constant supervision. Honestly, navigating this is heavy—not just for him, but for everyone else in the house. He gets lost in his own mind; there are only brief moments where he even recognizes us. I guess I'm just wondering... what is the best way to handle all of this?

ruggeddriver2 said:My father is dealing with dementia, urinary incontinence, and his hearing and vision have dropped significantly—he’s down to about 50% in one eye. His swallowing reflex has failed, so he's entirely dependent on a feeding tube. At night, we actually have to restrain him just so he doesn't pull the tube out. He needs 24/7 supervision; he can't be left alone for a second. It is incredibly heavy to carry all of this. It's devastating for my father, but it's tearing us apart at home, too. He gets lost, wandering through his own mind, only recognizing us for brief moments. What am I supposed to do...

😢Just stay by his side. Hold steady for his sake, because as brutal as this is right now, one day you’ll look back and realize it meant everything. You’ll find a profound sense of peace in your heart knowing you were there.
Based on what you're describing, it sounds like his time with us is running short. Make sure to cherish every single moment when he is lucid.
It's an uphill battle, but navigating these trials is exactly what makes someone a better person.

Amanda Miller69 said:My mom actually handled her first round of chemo relatively well. I mean, there was some nausea, a bit of diarrhea, and obviously the hair loss, plus she started getting that tingling sensation in her feet. For the nausea, she relied on Reglan, and honestly? Simple microwave popcorn and those strong menthol cough drops were lifesavers. She just ate and drank whatever her body would actually accept at the time. People even say a little Coca-Cola can help settle the stomach, though I know doctors wouldn't exactly put that on a recommended list for patients.
So, she went through three rounds of chemo—some kind of experimental protocol, I think—but nothing moved the needle. They eventually switched her over to an older treatment, Taxol, I believe, and that actually worked. Her markers dropped, she underwent two surgeries, and things seemed okay for a while. But then, just a few months later, the recurrence hit. She tried oral chemotherapy next, but it was useless. By the third surgery—where they basically had to remove half her abdomen—she was finished. The cancer had already metastasized through the abdominal cavity, hitting the liver, the stomach... everywhere, really. There was just no help left to give. On top of all that, she caught a nasty hospital infection, and her body simply didn't have the strength to fight back anymore. The whole ordeal dragged on for a year and ten months. It was caught at Stage IIIc, which is already quite advanced, and she fought like hell until the very end. Honestly? I didn't think she’d make it. Not because I wanted her to go, but because my father passed away from a heart attack just a year before her diagnosis. They were so incredibly close... I couldn't help but feel like she was just going to follow him.
Doctors never really commit to a prognosis. It’s one of those things they just won't touch. I remember asking Dr. Ćorušić—he was the one who operated on my mom over at Memorial Hospital—exactly how much time she had left. He said something to me that I'll honestly never forget. He looked me right in the eye and said, "Look, I'm neither God nor a psychic; at the end of the day, it's all up to your mother."
Look, you’re in for quite a fight ahead. It’s going to be a marathon, not a sprint, and providing steady support is everything right now. You really need to focus on keeping her immune system as strong as possible—I'd suggest looking into an immune-boosting supplement, maybe some beta-glucan or even high-quality propolis. As for the blood counts? A homemade juice blend of beet, carrot, and apple can actually do wonders. One more thing, though... she should probably steer clear of red meat, refined sugar, and white flour. There's a lot of talk about how cancer feeds on those things, so it's better to be safe than sorry.
So, I was thinking about this one incredible book by David Servan-Schreiber... it’s essentially an anti-cancer manifesto. It’s like this comprehensive guide for anyone trying to navigate survival or—more importantly—trying to build a lifestyle that keeps the whole thing at bay in the first place. It covers everything, really. We're talking diet, the actual biology of cancer, even the psychological side of things. It's quite a deep dive.

I know exactly how you feel—believe me, I've been right there in that same headspace. Honestly, it’s exhausting. If you need anything at all, just ask. I'll help out however I can, and trust me, I actually know my way around this stuff.
Hang in there.🙂

Thanks so much, dear, for such an incredibly thorough response. We actually took some of your advice to heart today—well, we started getting things organized and prepared, at least. You know me, I like to have everything lined up and ready to go before the moment actually hits. Better to be prepared than scrambling later, right?
She’s currently in the ICU, where they had to give her a blood transfusion because that ulceration caused some pretty significant bleeding. Right now, she's hooked up to an IV, just hanging in there. The doctor is feeling cautiously optimistic—hoping that, if things go our way, that whole situation should start stabilizing over the next few days. Fingers crossed.
Now, look... given that she was on a specific type of heparin-based therapy, there’s a real possibility they might have actually triggered the perforation themselves. Or, you know, it could just be some whole complicated chain of events. Honestly? I haven't the slightest clue.
It’s just one thing after another at this point. First, I’m dealing with post-op thromboembolism, and now—as if that wasn't enough of a nightmare—there's an ulceration. Honestly... what even is this? I’m sitting here staring at the wall, completely lost on how anyone is supposed to recover from this, let alone get strong enough to face chemotherapy. That's the part that really gets me. It’s not just the diagnosis itself, which is already grim enough, but the sheer exhaustion of trying to figure out how to survive the "recovery" before the real fight even starts. It's just... overwhelming.
She’s always been the brave one—tough as nails, really—but now? I don't know. I get this sinking feeling that she’s just losing so much ground mentally that it's going to end up speeding the whole damn process along. It's heartbreaking to watch.
God, I honestly don't even know anymore. I’m just... stuck. I truly have no idea what to say.
Thanks again. Honestly, once she’s back on her feet—if that even happens—I’ll reach out if I need anything. But let's be real, looking at her right now... she looks absolutely terrible. It's rough.

And I honestly can't thank you enough for being so patient with me—and for actually wanting to clear things up, too. Seriously.
And help... yeah, that too. For support.😢😘

Sarah Johnson11 said:Thank you so much for such an exhaustive response. We actually took some of your advice to heart today and started getting things ready, so hopefully everything is set when the time comes.
She’s currently in the ICU and received a blood transfusion because she lost quite a bit due to an ulceration. She’s on an IV right now, and the doctor is optimistic that her condition regarding that specific issue should start stabilizing over the next few days.
Now, considering she was on a certain type of heparin therapy, I can't help but wonder if that might have played a role in causing the perforation, though there are so many moving parts involved that I honestly can't say for sure.
Everything just took such a turn for the worse. First, it was post-op thromboembolism, and now this perforation... it’s just one thing after another. Honestly, I’m at a loss as to how she’ll recover enough to even face chemotherapy. That uncertainty is what makes this diagnosis feel even more overwhelming.
She has always been incredibly brave and resilient, but lately, I get the sense that she's losing her mental footing, and I worry that kind of psychological exhaustion might only speed up this whole grim process.
I don't even know what to say anymore; I'm just completely overwhelmed.
Thanks again. Once she’s a bit more stable—if she manages to pull through, given how dire things look right now—I’ll reach out if I need anything.

And thank you from the bottom of my heart for your patience, for being willing to clarify things,
and for all the support.😢😘

Once the initial shock wears off, she’ll find her footing again mentally. My own mother went through phases where she’d claim she was done fighting, but I used to tell her she had to keep going for my sake—that I loved her and needed her—and that gave her the strength to push forward.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she pulls through, and please know I'm here if you need any help.😘

Amanda Miller69 said:Once the initial shock wears off, they’ll find their footing mentally. My mom had those moments where she’d say she was done fighting, but I always reminded her that she had to keep going for my sake—that I loved her and needed her. That usually gave her enough fuel to keep pushing.
I’m crossing my fingers that it works, and please know I'm here if you need anything at all.😘

Well, I'm back. Honestly, I think you probably suspected this, but I have a question for you—and really for anyone here who has dealt with this specific type of carcinoma.
She finally got discharged from the hospital today, so I can actually type out the diagnosis from her discharge papers.

PHD - Cystadenocarcinoma papillare serosum invasium ovati 1.dex.
Thromboembolism
Duodenal bulb ulceration - no active bleeding.

Did your mother deal with this exact type of carcinoma, or has anyone else here? From what I understand, it's papillary ovarian cancer.
For now, the abdomen and its organs look okay—no metastases there.
However, the lung scan shows a lymph node and a shadow that suggests a possible metastasis.
She’s been sent home to recover briefly before seeing an oncologist, who will then decide on a chemotherapy regimen.

Her overall condition is quite poor. She barely communicates, eats very little, and just wants solitude and peace, which we are respecting.
As much as it pains me to say, I can't fully care for her right now because, unfortunately, my own health is in a terrible state. I've been battling chronic lymphocytic leukemia for years now, and lately, I feel like I'm back at square one, right at the beginning of the illness. But, I know I'll pull through eventually; I'm mentally tough, and more importantly, I'm driven by this deep optimism... whereas she isn't. I don't think it's the time to push anything on her, since she doesn't want to discuss it, so we're just giving her space.🤷 Maybe later on, she'll be ready to accept some of it.
I worry about her constantly. It breaks my heart, and I'd give anything to pass even a tiny shred of my energy or my will to live over to her. I am right there by her side, though I feel so powerless. Others are handling most of the heavy lifting, while I just act as support—mostly a silent observer at this point. I'm at a loss for words; I don't know how to talk to her to get her to engage, because I truly believe it's easier when you let all the grief and pain surface through tears. At least, that's my take, but maybe I'm wrong...
Thanks for the support and the advice.