Support resources for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses

Chloe Flores83 said:Ugh, being on two different forums at once is honestly tripping me out because I keep circling back to the exact same questions...
Well, look, maybe it turns out to be some less dangerous tumor after all. There’s a 10 percent chance. That’s not nothing. But we can't just ignore the future. At most, we can think about tomorrow—specifically, what happens after the surgery (which is scheduled for next week). What should we actually expect once it's over? Is Dad going to be disoriented? If so, how long is that going to last? Will he be in pain? Will he be able to move around? Should we jump straight into some kind of supplemental therapy to get his strength up, or wait? How long will he be stuck in the hospital? And when does radiation actually start?

The fallout from surgery is different for everyone. Some people deal with complications, while others walk away totally fine. You won't really know until it's done.
Radiation usually kicks off about three weeks after the surgery.

Angela Wright said:Everyone reacts to surgery differently. Some people deal with side effects, while others don't have any at all. You really won't know until it's over.
Radiation starts about three weeks after the surgery.

So, yeah, I guess it's best not to get too far ahead of ourselves. My dad fell yesterday and hit his head pretty hard. He says he just tripped, but honestly, he’s talking perfectly fine today. Tomorrow? Who knows. It's hard to say.

Chloe Flores83 said:Basically, stop trying to predict the distant future. My dad took a nasty fall yesterday and split his head open. He claims he just tripped. Today, he’s talking perfectly fine. But tomorrow? Tomorrow is a complete mystery.

And honestly, 😢
That’s how it works with cancer—patients often have no clue just how helpless they actually are. You need to keep a constant eye on him, but try to be subtle about it so he doesn't get defensive, because they truly don't grasp the weight of their own condition.

Don't get ahead of yourself by looking too far down the road. Tomorrow is the absolute limit of what you should worry about; just handle things as they come. You can't plan for what hasn't happened yet.
That’s the whole philosophy behind our group, the Association for a New Day—we just take it one day at a time. 😉

Angela Wright said:Check out today's episode of Open:
In America, we lose 34 people to cancer every single day. Why isn't there enough funding for better prevention, diagnostics, and treatment? What are the biggest hurdles patients actually face? How do we find a way out for oncology patients and their doctors?

Well, I watched it—and now I’m pissed (which is my standard reaction whenever I see that pathetic excuse for a Minister on screen).
And honestly, I have nothing kind to say about those brown-nosing doctors either. It absolutely infuriates me—God forbid they actually speak up against the Minister or the system itself. Are they even alive, or just fueled by whatever ego trip keeps them going? Just trying to get a little something extra for themselves, I guess. It's a total fantasy land... classic American politics at its finest—don't rock the boat while the Minister is in the room, then go cry to the patients later about how helpless you are. Disgusting. Poor slyseal28 having to breathe the same air as that little gnome...

Angela Wright said:Take a look at Open today:
In America, we lose 34 people every single day to cancer. It’s a heavy thought, isn't it? I find myself wondering... why is it that we don't seem to have enough funding to properly back our prevention efforts, better diagnostics, or even basic treatment? It feels like there's a gap where resources should be. I also think about the hurdles—what are the most frequent struggles patients actually face once they get a diagnosis? And more importantly, how do we find a way out of this cycle for both the oncology patients and their doctors? It’s a complicated situation, truly.

I was just looking through everything, and honestly, I only ended up making myself incredibly worked up.
It honestly feels like our Secretary at the Department of Health and Human Services is living in some completely different reality.
And then there are the people who tell him... they just don't want to understand. Honestly.
Well, according to him, there aren't any issues at all; everything is just perfectly fine.
I went through absolute hell with my mother two years ago.
It was regarding pancreatic cancer, specifically involving metastases to...
Regarding those swollen lymph nodes... we spent an entire year retreating through Rib.
She barely managed to get her Gemzar approved, and now she's stuck facing months of waiting just to start radiation. It’s just... one thing after another, isn't it?
Absolute hell. I'm so sorry to say that my mother passed away. 🙂

Things were looking pretty grim back when Angela Wright first started this thread, and...
Every single morning, the very first thing I do is head straight to these forums, just hoping to find something new to learn.
I find myself reading about how to ease her suffering. I have learned so much from being here, and for that, I am truly grateful.
To everyone who shared their experiences.

Look, what can I even say? Everything went exactly according to plan, except for one thing: slyseal28 didn't get a single chance to praise the Secretary's hard work so far—which was totally the intention, believe me—or to remind him about that national prevention campaign for the six most common cancers we're asking him to sponsor. It's sitting right there on his desk, and by the way, he already responded to it; she just wasn't allowed to get a word in edgewise.
And for everyone out there claiming the two of us are just puppets for Big Pharma, let me give you a little glimpse into our actual lives, since she wasn't permitted to point this out either:
If we were actually on those companies' payrolls, we wouldn't be holding board meetings at a kitchen table in a rental apartment where she lives as a single mom—which also serves as our association's "headquarters"—instead of doing it at the Sheraton or some fancy spa center.☕
Jebiga, we've reached a point where people just assume anyone working for the greater good is getting paid massive amounts of money.
Well, the two of us clearly fell from Mars, probably alongside our Gogs, but what can you do? We don't know any other way to be. It’s just in our nature to find our only real satisfaction in helping ensure that at least one person doesn't have to wade through the same absolute shit we had to endure. We try to give all that crap some higher purpose so we can move forward with healthy lives and a clear conscience.

Come on, Angela Wright, please—you know as well as I do that it’s not about what’s being said, it’s about *who* is saying it. We all know exactly who the pharmaceutical industry's hired guns are in this country. Just look at the whole swine flu vaccine debacle. Honestly, this kind of arrogance and condescension just infuriates me. He went after slyseal28 with such ferocity, without even a shred of basic decency. It’s shameful. He can claim whatever he wants, but in this country, every third person deals with some form of cancer—and once you factor in their families and friends, you get a massive number of people who have zero illusions left about our healthcare system. And nobody talks about what every family goes through when they’re stuck within their own four walls with a patient in the terminal stage. When you have to hunt down a million different forms just to get basic home care, or when you're out-of-pocket buying IV fluids, diapers, and God knows what else—that struggle doesn't just vanish. It stays with you. For me, it's always on my mind. By the time my dad reached the point where we all realized there was no hope left, I was already exhausted. I spent more time running between pharmacies, clinics, hospitals, and god knows where else than I did actually sitting by his side. And even though we live right in the middle of the city—where everything is supposedly ten minutes away—you still end up wasting a lifetime of hours. It makes me wonder, and I still ask myself this today: how do people handle this when they have absolutely no one else in the world? It's heartbreaking and just plain terrifying...

Listen, everyone, it was a decent outing considering we were basically walking straight into a hornet's nest. We have to keep fighting, together, with everything we've got. 🙂

...Hello everyone. I'm new to this forum, and honestly, I haven't quite figured out who you all are or what your professional backgrounds might be. I've spent some time browsing, and it’s clear this community is incredibly active, which is great, but I do have one pressing question.
I am a member of an association for those diagnosed and treated for malignant diseases here in Berlin (I believe it's the largest organization of its kind, even surpassing the regional associations, if we set our own aside). From what I've gathered so far, the discussions and shared experiences here seem to revolve almost exclusively around radiation, chemotherapy, and surgery. Is that really the extent of it, or am I fundamentally misreading the room? My apologies if I've somehow overlooked something vital buried somewhere within these 156 pages. Please, go easy on me—I'm a peaceful person by nature.

Keith Thompson said:....hey everyone, I'm new to this forum. I have no idea what your backgrounds are or what you do for a living, but I've been browsing through, and man, this place is active—which is great. However, I have a serious question.
I’m a member of a cancer survivor association based in Berlin (I think it's actually one of the largest, bigger even than the regional associations, if you exclude us). I've noticed that most of the info and experiences shared here revolve strictly around radiation, chemo, and surgery. Is that really all there is to it, or am I totally missing the big picture? My apologies if I somehow skipped over something vital somewhere in these 156 pages. Please don't tear me apart; I'm generally a pretty peaceful guy.

That's because we live in a country that completely blindsides people with the absolute basics, like radiation and chemo. We live in a place where doctors aren't even allowed to speak freely, where people with metastatic disease are stuck on endless waiting lists, and where you might wait three months just to get radiation—and that's for the common stuff. Don't even get me started on rare cancers; there's practically zero hope for extending life or maintaining any quality of life. When things are that broken, how can anyone focus on talking about love, compassion, support groups, or the basic human elements that civil society should actually be prioritizing?
I assume you're mentioning ECPC as the gold standard and the umbrella federation for European cancer associations. Well, the Association for a New Day is a member of that federation, and we are working hard to fix those massive systemic gaps that are currently gaping open in America.

ILDZIS said:...

Look, honey, for your own peace of mind, let’s get this straight: there is no Dr. Stakic out there who is going to magically cure an astrocytoma or an MF glioblastoma brain tumor. The hallmark of every single charlatan is that they hide behind "success stories"—stories where nobody ever steps forward using their actual legal name to say, "This man is a miracle worker; he cured me of the most aggressive, progressive tumor a human being can face," accompanied by the actual medical scans from before and after his treatment. It’s a scientific fact, not just my opinion.
Whether those people you met were actually suffering from what they claimed, or even if they had those diagnoses at all, is highly questionable. I mean, what stage were they even in? My own mother looked better than I do six months after her brain tumor surgery.
I have never personally met one of these "healers," but I work with cancer patients every single day. If something actually worked—especially for diagnoses that seem hopeless right out of the gate—these people would be shouting it from the rooftops with clinical proof in hand. They wouldn't stay quiet.
And listen to me: it wasn't the surgery, the chemo, or the radiation that killed your nephew. It was the tumor. The surgery, the chemo, and the radiation were just tools to slow things down and, believe it or not, actually improve his quality of life. Without them, his end would have been infinitely more agonizing.
Everything I am telling you comes from direct experience.
My advice? Finally let your nephew go and let him rest in peace; he deserves that. Stop wasting even a single second of your life on scammers and shady characters who have zero interest in anything other than squeezing money out of the most vulnerable people on earth. Believe me, this guy is screaming "fraud" from every pore of his body. Only a con artist talks about treating malignant brain tumors as easily as if they were curing the evil eye. If someone could actually do that, they would have picked up a Nobel Prize in Medicine a long time ago.
Your son-in-law clearly saw through the nonsense from the very beginning, and he's the reason you haven't been dragged through even more useless suffering.

Angela Wright said:Check out today's episode of Open:
In America, we lose 34 people to cancer every single day. Why the hell aren't we putting enough money into prevention, better diagnostics, and actual treatment? What are the biggest hurdles patients are hitting right now? And how do we even find a way out for these oncology patients and their doctors?

I haven't had a chance to jump in here until now... honestly? I'm glad I didn't watch it. I'm still sitting here feeling bitter, pissed off, and just plain scared.
Major props to slyseal28.
That Secretary from the Department of Health and Human Services went straight for the low blows—it was pathetic. But then again... why even bother??

Lisa White54 said:I haven't had a chance to weigh in until now... and honestly? I wish I hadn't looked. I’m still sitting here feeling nothing but bitterness, anger, and pure dread!
Major props to slyseal28.
The Secretary resorted to low blows—it’s pathetic! But then again, why is he even doing this??

He had to lash out at someone to deflect from his own failures, because heaven forbid he takes responsibility for his own staff... which is completely uncalled for. In my book, there isn't a single sane person who thinks a Secretary of Health should be attacking a patient advocacy group. It’s just irrational.
The funniest part? Not one of us has attacked him or condemned him regarding the situation in Cleveland. We sent him an open letter essentially pleading with him to step up, since he's the one person actually in charge and more competent than the director of the Cleveland hospital. He clearly expected Catherine to come swinging at him... instead, he acted like a total hillbilly with zero sense of professional decorum, while Catherine is a lady who simply doesn't engage in that kind of gutter communication.
Frankly, it’s beyond embarrassing to hear him whining about how nobody has praised him for the fact that there aren't waiting lists for radiation in Cleveland. HELLO! Are we supposed to throw him a parade for that? What are we, Bangladesh? You don't get a trophy for providing access to something that is inherently urgent, using a method that’s been standard for a century. He should just shut up and stay humble. At the end of the day, he gets paid to do his job. Nobody gives me a standing ovation just for performing the tasks I'm paid to handle.
When we attend oncology conferences across Europe, we find ourselves turning red with shame because of nonsense like this.

Angela Wright said:Check out today's episode of Open:
In America, we lose 34 people to cancer every single day. Why is there such a persistent lack of funding for effective prevention, diagnostics, and treatment? What are the most frequent hurdles patients face? And how can we find a way out of this impasse for both oncology patients and their doctors?

Unfortunately, I don't have internet access at the moment, and I haven't been able to devote enough attention to this issue, which remains deeply personal for me. I missed the program, regrettably...

I can only say that I am utterly disillusioned with our healthcare system and feel that everything being done comes at the expense of those who truly need it most.

My mother scheduled her appointment at Medikol two months in advance. On Friday evening, right before her Monday appointment for the PET/CT scan, the clinic called just to confirm if we were still coming, given the terrible road conditions... Of course, we made the trip, only to arrive and be so appalled by the situation that we turned right back around and went home. After battling through 177 miles ice and snow, all to hear, "We're sorry, but we don't have the isotope liquids required for the scan." It was a stroke of luck they called us on Friday night rather than waiting until Monday at 10 in the morning to tell us they weren't prepared...😕

Why am I even writing this? Because this sense of helplessness is profoundly saddening, yet I find myself unable to react strongly, lest I further distress my mother—I try to shield her from any unnecessary worry or involvement, seeing how much this takes out of her...

The scan was eventually performed a week later than planned, and one might think, "Well, at least it happened." But for her, after three years of fighting, we only succeeded in exhausting her further with that wasted trip, and there is no happy ending here. Despite the specialist's opinion that they found nothing but more fatty deposits, her oncologists suspect an error occurred and fear there may be new malignant clusters. Why is it that abroad, doctors immediately act on suspicion and pursue radical measures, while here, they simply shrug their shoulders and wait until things reach a critical stage? How many people would actually have to go public to force a change? People will spend days standing like a "brick wall" protesting over something like Flower Alley, but if you asked those same people if they would engage with a life-or-death crisis like this, I highly doubt they would step up...

How many people actually need to step up and go public before anything changes? People will spend days acting like a "brick wall," protesting against Flower Alley, but if you asked those exact same people if they’d actually get involved in a massive issue like this, I doubt a single one would join in..

It’s because they think it doesn't involve them. Like, someone else got sick somewhere out there... not them! I have a personal example of this: back when I was at the facility where I work—and yeah, let's be clear, it's a hospital, a specialized one, but still a hospital!—I was collecting signatures for a petition for the Association for a New Day. It was a petition promoting patient rights (and let's face it, we're all potential patients!), though I think most of you heard about it a year or two ago. The result? Maybe ten people signed it. Nobody else gave a damn! Good grief, it’s not like my husband is the only one dealing with illness. And it wasn't even about him specifically... it was honestly devastating. I didn't even bother forwarding the petition any further after that. But I realized one thing: nobody cares unless it hits home!
Nancy Hernandez43, I'm glad you spoke up..

Lisa White54 said:It’s just because they assume it doesn't apply to them. Like cancer is just some thing happening to someone else, somewhere far away...

Exactly.
And honestly, I find it hard to wrap my head around why nobody talks about it!
It wasn't until my mom got her diagnosis and I started bringing it up with people at work that I realized there isn't a single soul in my office who hasn't been touched by cancer, whether it was themselves or someone close to them.
One colleague, a dear friend of mine, battled ovarian cancer back when she was just a teenager. Another coworker lost her father to esophageal cancer, a third lost a sister to sarcoma, a fourth lost a dad to a brain tumor, then there was a guy whose father and grandfather both had lung cancer, a woman whose mother fought melanoma, and another colleague whose mom went through ovarian cancer too... and just last week, a coworker's father passed away from liver cancer.

I mean, what are we actually talking about here? It feels like every third person you meet is dealing with a tumor.

This shouldn't be the norm, should it? It seems completely irrational to me how the media can obsess over something like Swine Flu while so many people are dying from cancer. It defies logic, and I can't quite grasp how people can rationalize that kind of focus. 😢

Ever since my mom's diagnosis, I've realized that both she and I feel somewhat detached from the life moving along right beside us. It’s as if she’s already gone, and I’m just hovering somewhere in the middle.
Judging by how fast these appointments happen, I get the impression the medical staff have already written her off. There's this palpable sense of helplessness and hopelessness coming from the healthcare workers.

Anyway, I guess I just let my emotions get the better of me today because I clearly had too much downtime to sit and overthink everything. And besides, we're heading in tomorrow to pick up the PET/CT results....

ILDZIS said:Regarding Dr. Stakic and Cytomedic Inc, which our dear forum friend was inquiring about on August 17, 2007, on thread 25—since I am new to this forum, please excuse my delay in responding, though I hope this late input might actually be helpful to many.
I want to address our respected new member, Keith Thompson. Dear sir, seeing as you work in a field rooted in humanism, I suspect you might be familiar with Dr. Stakic. He studied in Germany and worked at the clinic of Dr. Hakenthal, who achieved some of the most significant results in oncology treatment in all of Europe. Dr. Stakic eventually left him and actually filed a complaint with the Department of Health and Human Services in Baden-Württemberg, alleging that Dr. Hackenthal was performing euthanasia without authorization and doing everything possible just for the sake of "damn money," as he put it. I dealt with a devastating situation in my own family, and I am profoundly grateful to him; it was thanks to his work that I was able to climb out of a deep darkness—that void you feel when you lose someone you loved dearly. I follow Dr. Stakic’s work closely, and I truly hope to meet him in person one day. Wherever you go looking for information, you will hear nothing but praise, and frankly, it would be appropriate for you to meet him too, given how often he is mentioned in these circles.
Here is why.
Four years ago, my sister's 21-year-old son was diagnosed with a brain tumor back in Sarajevo. My brother-in-law immediately arranged to move him to Ljubljana to see a renowned neurosurgeon, and from there, they headed to Switzerland. They didn't tell me much because my brother-in-law is a public figure and preferred to keep the matter private. All I knew was that the costs were astronomical. They ended up selling a large house in Sarajevo and a villa in Small Alley over in Ilidz. In Switzerland, he underwent surgery immediately, and a month later, he returned home. He looked pale and struggled to move; he had difficulty lifting his arms and his speech was incoherent. He frequently had to go to the hospital in Sarajevo accompanied by two or three friends from his office because walking was such a struggle for him. One day at the hospital, they ran into a young woman whom my sister knew—she was a neighbor of one of the people in their group. She was suffering from the exact same illness and, just like him, she would frequently lose consciousness. They were both hospitalized urgently at the same time and often crossed paths during follow-up appointments. She seemed upbeat and cheerful. She told us she was doing well and was using certain supplemental treatments. We asked the doctor, who confirmed that her tumor had receded, though he couldn't recall the specific name of the medication. He said things were going well for now, though he remained skeptical about future treatments because he didn't want to ignore medical advancements. A friend of my sister's mentioned he knew who she was and that her father owned the tennis courts in Hotonj. Mr. Gabeljic was incredibly blunt and dismissive, refusing any contact under the pretext that his daughter was never sick and never had been. At the tennis club cafe, a waiter mentioned that people knew what was happening and that a doctor from Mexico often visited the club. He even noted that Gabeljic himself had faced serious health issues, much like his neighbor Avdo Karisik, the owner of HAK transport, who is battling a severe cancer, as well as several other public figures who come by for coffee. He handed us a business card. It turned out we were looking at Dr. Stakic, the owner of Cytomedica in Skopje. We reached out to Dr. Stakic. He is an incredibly sensitive and kind man, and he accepted the case. While curing a tumor isn't always a guarantee, restoring full vital function can be difficult. He explained that it was a complex tumor that had progressed deeply, and surgery had caused some damage. Sometimes patients remain wheelchair-bound, and loss of senses is a frequent complication. We arranged the start of the therapy and asked Dr. Stakic if he could come to Sarajevo. He told us to come to him for the treatment on Sunday, as he would be at the courts for the Women's Open finals. We arrived toward the end of the tournament. Dr. Stakic was sitting in the VIP stands alongside Mr. Gabeljic, Kem Ahmetovic, and many other prominent figures from the world of sports and politics. There was a live satellite broadcast on TV. My brother-in-law was furious when he saw Gabeljic, who had denied knowing them just days prior. He knew all those public figures and simply didn't want to be publicly associated with them. Later, everything fell apart. My nephew underwent another surgery abroad, but it yielded no results. The radiation and chemotherapy took such a toll on him that he passed away after nine months of intense suffering. Only two months later, my sister passed away unexpectedly as well. My brother-in-law recently got married and moved to Chicago. I don't judge him; I know what he has endured and that he is still grieving. My only resentment, and something I cannot forgive, is that he refused to contact Dr. Stakic, especially since I heard so much about him afterward. Two months ago, I ran into the doctor who treated my nephew, and while talking, I mentioned Dr. Stakic. The doctor was stunned when I said my brother-in-law wouldn't even let us try. He cited several success stories where patients were cured through Dr. Stakic's therapy. I mentioned that since my nephew was so young, I wasn't sure if it would help. The doctor immediately told me he had a similar, perhaps even more difficult, case in Ilidz and gave me the patient's name. Since I live near Ilidz, I was able to find out through a friend that this young man lives in my neighborhood. His father spoke highly of him and recommended him to a colleague of mine who was dealing with a similar family crisis. My daughter knows the young man and his brother, who works at the cafe they frequent. They surprised us; unlike some people who hide their struggles, they were open. They told us his name is Jasmin Merdzanic and that he wants to help others facing the same misfortune by trying Dr. Stakic's methods. His father explained to my colleague how the illness started, which matched the diagnosis perfectly. He expressed immense gratitude to Dr. Stakic, who prescribed the therapy immediately following surgery (05.04.2009). He noted that after the operation, Jasmin had significant mobility issues and symptoms very similar to my nephew's, but things stabilized after a month. I expressed a wish to at least see Jasmin, still unsure of everything I had heard. When I saw him, I was in awe; he was walking across the bridge entirely on his own. He is an exceptionally handsome young man, nearly six feet tall. He reminded me so much of my nephew. Watching him walk with such ease brought me great relief and moved me to tears. Seeing him often makes things easier for me. I also looked into Ms. Gabeljic and heard she is perfectly healthy. I visited the Cytomedica website and spoke with Mr. Mirko Kulas, the professional associate for the region, who told me he is personally familiar with both cases. He said there are countless such cases, but dealing with people is the hard part. Initially, everyone promises to go public if they get better, but in the end, they often hide away.

Hello Ilidz, I think it’s actually quite healthy that you’re using this forum as an outlet; there really ought to be more empathy for that.
Regarding your point, I find myself agreeing with Angela Wright—she has a valid perspective here. The subject of cancer is far too complex to be reduced to a single, magic solution.
Personally, back when Dr. Hakenthal was still around, I lived a pretty carefree and happy life, so I wasn't particularly concerned with his controversial dealings that kept popping up in the news. As for Dr. Stakic, I haven't heard of him before, and frankly, I couldn't tell you much about his specific methods or what they are actually based on (I might reach out to the Association for a New Day to see if anyone there is familiar with his medications or approach, and then I could perhaps say more).
I'm not sure how deep I should dive into these topics, but it is certainly worth reading David Servan-Schreber's book, "Anticancer." He dealt with a brain tumor himself. I believe there is an American translation available. Being a medical professional, he didn't rely on just one singular method, which makes his insights quite compelling.
I wonder if any of you have looked into studies regarding phytoestrogens found in soy milk and their role in protecting women from breast cancer. Especially nowadays, considering how heavily cow's milk is loaded with hormones and antibiotics. Evolutionarily speaking, cow's milk was designed for calves, not humans. I realize it tastes great, and that's the catch—unfortunately, most things that taste delicious are inherently unhealthy. Perhaps that is something worth reflecting on more often. 🙂

Angela Wright said:That’s because we live in a country that fails at the most fundamental, basic level—things like radiation therapy and chemo. We live in a place where doctors can't seem to communicate, where people with metastatic disease are stuck on endless waiting lists, and where you might wait three months just to get radiation. And that's for common tumors; don't even get me started on rare ones, which honestly have zero chance of improving life expectancy or quality of life... so how are we supposed to talk about love, compassion, or support groups? Those are the normal things society and civil organizations should actually be focusing on.
I assume you're referring to ECPC as the gold standard and the federation of European cancer associations. Well, the Association for a New Day is a member of that federation, and we have significant backing to try and fix these systemic gaps that are gaping wide open here in America.

...I don't know exactly what the situation is like in America right now, but I can tell you that conflicts of interest are everywhere. I also believe that it's the people who shape society, politics, and policy guidelines. If your association grows large enough to actually have its voice heard, you'll find yourself with a completely different perspective and vision. On a side note, Prof. Dr. med. R. Beliveau wrote a fantastic book titled "Cancer cells don't like raspberries"—which, quite simply, translates to the Raspberry tumor aversion station. It's an excellent read; I'm not sure if it's been translated into American English yet. If it hasn't, then what are you waiting for?👍

biljaa said:I just have to say, I'm seriously proud of both you and Catherine...

Preach!
🙂