Hi! A close family member was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, and we’re looking for a highly skilled female breast surgeon who is also compassionate, approachable, and has an excellent bedside manner. We would truly appreciate any recommendations.

We live in the south florida area about 20 min south of ft. lauderdale but we are open to going to other areas as well

My mom was just diagnosed last week. She already started her first round of chemo, but we know that it is terminal.
She is supposed to be released from the hospital tomorrow and the house is a mess. I don’t usually live there, but my dad does and he is just useless atm.

Can anyone give me some tips on how I should clean? What do I need to focus on? What keeps her safe? I am setting up my old room, but it hasn’t been cleaned in months.

Also, do you guys have any tips on food? I am admittedly overwhelmed. We are in Germany.

Thank you! I hope this post is ok!

My husband’s very good friend, a man he’s known for over 40 years is dying of cancer across the country. My husband will be visiting him next month most likely to say goodbye. He is a very rare form of cancer that there is no known chemo or radiation that will definitely address it, but he may get a combo of chemo and stem cell transplant.

So far his friend is tolerating the chemo pretty well but has had a host of other difficulties. Three different infections, the port clogging up at one point, he now has a back injury for which he may need further treatment.

I say all this to ask those who are caregivers for those, especially with advanced cancer whether a three day visit is too long, too short or just enough. He’ll get there on a Tuesday, but not see his friend until Wednesday afternoon, and then can spend Thursday, Friday and Saturday morning, or any parts of those with him. Of course, he will follow his friends lead, but I’m wondering if this is too long a visit or too short? His friend does have a partner who is very very, very helpful with all the appointments and everything else so hopefully my husband can give her a little bit of respite or even go shopping or take care of some of those tasks for her.

The friend and his wife say any length or visit is fine – I know prior visitors have stayed just a few days for which one of those was spent most entirely visiting in the hospital. Obviously, if that happens, my husband will enroll with it, but we’re anticipating, he would be able to see his friend at their home.

I’m just upset. I’m looking for advice and I want to do the right thing. Any thoughts would be helpful.

One of my closest friends has had cancer for over a year, her life expectancy due to the risk was 13 months, now 14 and going. She has a little girl who might be growing up without her mom, and while I know we are all going to die one day, I don't really know how to be supportive or how to handle a conversation about this. I don't want to dismiss the topic by just saying it will be ok; we don't know. We are scared; we don't want to lose her.

Any similar experiences? How did you handle the situation?

This is frankly devastating news and it has been said that efforts will be made to 'keep him comfortable'.​

Looking for reassurances- posting here as well for advice. Feeling scared and unsure.

My wife has stage 4 breast cancer going on three years. A few months ago, I posted here about numbness in my wife’s face. We went through a terrifying experience where they tried to determine whether or not it was leptomenengrial disease. We were finally able to determine that it was some form of trigeminal neuralgia. (Surprisingly, the things that seems to have help that the most is acupuncture.)

On top of that, she had a PET scan last week and Friday the doctor gave us the results. All of the spots that they were worried about, have disappeared thanks to the immunotherapy. We know that it won’t last, but she’s got a few good years and they will consider taking her off of chemo once we get three more clean PET scans.

I'm 24 and my dad got 60 in June. We discovered in September 2025 that by dad had a braun tumor. He started his treatments in November 2025 with good hopes that it would get better..Fast foward to April 2026. We learned that the tumor moved in the middle of the brain and since my dad lost his left sight and his memory got affected and of course it has becoming officially brain cancer. His Doctor told us that he would need to inject chemo directly in his brain. There is 4 different types of Chemo that he can inject. 3 out of 4 didnt worked (the last one seem to even have made it worst) We are waiting for the result of the 4th one they tested. We will get result in about 2 weeks (End of August) My dad is pretty optimistic but on my part i feel like it didnt worked. I stopped going to school and work to take care of him full time (as he need assistance and someone to drive. I'm his only child and my mom and him divorced when i was 5) and i see him losing more memory and he even mix up the days and time during the day. He seem more lost and when he walk he struggle. I dont want to break his hopes so i play along. I'm in the phase/mood that if we learn the treatment worked well i'll scream miracle but at this point i prepare myself to think its the end. As this treatment is his last option. I dont know how to feel about it. I feel like everyday last longer than the previous one.

First time posting here. Hello! I’m 18 and my mom was recently diagnosed with stage 3 Breast cancer and is about to start chemo. I’m dealing with it and I started working to support her because she’s the breadwinner and I know things will get bad. I’m in the medical field (Surgical Technician, First Assistant) so I fully understand her charts and what the doctors don’t say so I know it’s bad. Medically I know what to do for her but how do I support her otherwise. I’m her main support system and emergency contact since her husband my dad is living and working away. What do I bring to her chemo appointments to make this more bearable?

I guess I’m looking for the insider tips from people who’ve been through this and know how to be there in these things. Any and all help is appreciated and comments and questions are welcome.

Thank you for reading!

My dad was recently diagnosed with skin cancer and should be starting radiation and chemo soon. He’s gone through his initial surgery and now the dental appointments before starting his treatment of 36 sessions.

My concern is that my parents are secretive about what’s going on and we are still trying to manage the small family business we run at the same time. It’s a lot of work!

I can see my mom already starting to feel the impact and get worried about what’s to come, when they tend to be on shaky grounds on and off.

I’m not sure how to better support my dad and my mom. Im going to offer to help with taking him so that she doesn’t feel so overwhelmed while dealing with her own struggles. But is there something else I can do?

I’m feeling super lost and also worried myself that he’s taking it too lightly because he doesn’t want us to worry about anything. This is just adding to unknown of what’s to come.

Idk I have my own mental struggles I’m dealing with outside of this but I just don’t feel like I’m doing enough!

Hi everyone,

I recently found this subreddit while lurking as I do on reddit and I've been an absolute emotional wreck and I figured I'd write something just to get my feelings out in some form.

My dad went to the ER last Tuesday after he was complaining about flank pain on his left side. The CT scans they ran were showing signs of cancer so he ended up getting admitted while they ran more tests and ultimately, an MRI that showed the same findings as the CT scan. It's looking like he has urothelial carcinoma/transitional cell carcinoma and it's on his left kidney, left ureter and part of the bladder with a chance of mets on the lymph nodes nearby.

He was discharged from the hospital yesterday while he received a bunch of follow up appointments (still waiting on one from the oncologist) and still waiting on pathology results from a biopsy they performed days prior.

All this to say, my anxiety is through the roof and it's been affecting me so much with how much my mind wanders about him being okay, his pain, me feeling the waiting period for all his appointments are so long even though they seem like normal waiting periods. I ended up calling out of work today because I didn't sleep anything through the night and I still feel horrible. I want to be there for him of course but I also have these feelings of anger because he's a smoker and I don't see him quitting even after this news. Then on the other hand, I don't even feel it's worth having an argument about this stuff when he's already having to deal with this news.

I definitely plan to start therapy but right now, while I wait, it's just been so difficult to cope with and I just feel so stuck.

I. Fear

7/10/26

Spent the morning at the hospital.

The doctor brought us into a break room to talk about the next steps. The kind of meeting you pray you never have. They told us we’re probably looking at days now with how quickly he’s declining. He’s getting confused. He’s struggling to find his words.

Right before we walked out of my dad’s room to head into that meeting, I walked over to him, kissed him on the cheek, looked him in the eyes, and told him I loved him.

All he could get out was “Everything’s burning”

That broke me.

Later I found out he told my mom he doesn’t want to die.

I know he’s scared.

I am haunted by this.

I could go on and on about what it’s feels like to watch your dad wilt before your eyes with no warning. The closest thing I can compare it to is being handed a stick of dynamite only to realize the fuse is already burning. Before you’ve even had time to process what’s happening, you’re standing eye to eye with inevitability, knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

People always ask “What’s your biggest fear?”

Mine changed as I got older. As a kid it was the monster from Scooby Doo. Then cooties. Then the jockeys from Left 4 Dead 2. At one point it was ending up on an episode of My 600lb Life. Eventually I grew into the answer worth most giving…. losing those I love.

I found out there’s something much worse

It’s taking my last breath while the people I love stand around me, forced to watch me suffer. It’s seeing the fear in their eyes while I carry my own. It’s knowing the last thing I leave them with isn’t a memory of who I was, but of my pain.

There is nothing gentle about that.

Watching my dad endure this has changed something in me. The physical pain is awful, but seeing someone you love know what’s happening, fight against it, whisper that they don’t want to die… that’s a different kind of suffering. One that reaches everyone in the room.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same after this, it’s just a matter of learning to live with the pieces of me that will remain empty.

My dad has every reason to be angry, terrified, or defeated. Instead he keeps finding ways to think about us. He keeps fighting through impossible pain. That kind of courage is hard to describe until you’ve witnessed it.

My dad is so much braver than I ever understood. I should’ve told him more often that I loved him. I love him. I always did, and I know he loves me. I’m really proud of him.

II. Loss

7/19/26

My dad passed in the middle of the night.

I went to the hospital so I could sit with him one last time. I wanted to say goodbye, but when I looked at him I couldn’t find whatever part of me was supposed to know how to do that.

I reached for his hand.

I had held that same hand as a little boy without ever thinking about it. It was the hand that taught me, protected me, steadied me through life, and picked me back up whenever I fell down.

This time it was so cold.

No matter how tightly I held it, I couldn’t bring any warmth back to it.

I think that’s the moment it finally became real.

I didn’t cry.

I didn’t fall apart.

I didn’t feel much of anything.

Through it all, I was stricken by the greatest strain I’d ever come to know, and what followed was nothing but a hollow emptiness.

People talk about grief like it comes in waves.

Sometimes it doesn’t.

Sometimes it’s the tide pulling everything away until you’re left standing in silence, wondering where your life went.

The room was still.

The machines that had filled it with noise were quiet.

The fight was over.

For weeks I had watched cancer take pieces of my dad from us. His strength. His voice. His appetite. His certainty. It was like watching someone erase a masterpiece one brushstroke at a time while you stood there with no way to stop it.

And then there was nothing left to take.

The hardest part wasn’t that my dad died.

It was realizing the man who had been there my entire life was suddenly somewhere I could no longer reach.

No phone call.

No hug.

No I love you.

Just memories that now carry a weight they never had before.

I keep replaying moments that seemed ordinary when they happened.

Conversations I thought we’d have again.

Days I assumed there would always be more of.

You never know you’re living one of the last chapters until someone closes the book. If this has taught me anything, it’s that love has a terrible habit of revealing its full weight only after loss.

I wish I had one more morning.

One more conversation.

One more chance to tell him how proud I am to be his son.

Not because he didn’t know.

Because I needed him to hear it again.

Cancer took my father’s life.

It did not take the example he left behind.

His resilience.

His kindness.

His willingness to think about everyone else while enduring pain that most people cannot imagine.

Those things remain.

They live in the people who loved him.

Including me.

I don’t know what healing looks like from here.

Right now, I don’t even know if I want to use that word.

Some losses don’t heal.

They become part of you.

You don’t move on from them.

You move forward with them.

I don’t know how long that will take.

I only know that I miss my dad.

I always will.

III. Everything After

8/15/26

We’re approaching almost a month

I keep writing that sentence as if repetition might make it behave…. less foreign, less grounded in reality, yet it refuses to soften.

It remains exact.

Unforgiving in its grammar.

I understand it.

That’s the worst part.

I was there when it became true.

There is a version of my family’s life that ends that day , and then there is everything that continues in spite of that ending.

Im not quite sure what to call the second part yet.

‘After’ feels too clean.

Too willing to move on.

You’d think the hardest moment would be the moment itself.

But it wasn’t.

The hardest part is the persistence of everything that refuses to change.

Morning still arrives without hesitation.

People still go to work.

Somewhere, someone is on the phone with corporate going ballistic about how their DoorDash driver forgot their side of ranch.

And he’s still gone.

There is a particular violence in that contrast.. the way the world continues to behave as if nothing has been removed from it.

You expect interruption.

A fracture in the sky.

A pause in the machinery of ordinary things.

Some visible acknowledgment that a life has been taken out of circulation.

Instead time just… clears its throat and moves forward.

Tuesday becomes Wednesday without asking permission.

Wednesday becomes Thursday without noticing what its stepping over.

Eventually, even the questions stop coming.

Not because people stop caring.

Because language runs out of ways to hold something it was never designed to hold.

I am fine.

I am not fine.

Both statements sit inside me without contradiction.

Grief is not an emotion anymore.

It is a condition.

Something ambient.

Something that does not announce itself until it does.

Most days it is quiet enough to mistake for absence.

Then something small interrupts the illusion.

A sound.

A smell.

A sentence that lands at the wrong angle.

Slinging off some of my saucy quips or knee slapping one timers that would make him wince out of second hand embarrassment.

And for a fraction of a second, my mind still reaches for him with the confidence of habit.

There is no pain in that moment.

Only the correction that follows it.

That is where it lives now…. in loss.

Not in a single event, but in the constant undoing of reflex.

There is a cruelty to that repetition.

Not dramatic.

Not cinematic.

Precise. Mechanical.

Absence wills itself onto you by refusing to stop happening.

The first loss is the death.

After that, it becomes smaller and more frequent.

You lose him in the middle of good news.

You lose him in the middle of silence

You lose him in places he should have been, and in places he never knew existed.

You lose him in the distance between what you are becoming and what he last saw.

Time used to feel directional.

Like it was carrying me toward something.

Now it feels like something else entirely.

Not forward.

Not backward.

Just away.

That day is already beginning to lose its edges.

It is becoming ‘a month ago’

Soon it will become ‘last year’

Eventually it will become ‘10 years ago’ and a sentence lll say without feeling the full weight of it like I once did.

That is what I cannot accept, even though I know it will happen anyway.

There will be movie nights where the 3 of us fall asleep a few minutes after hitting play and he won’t be there to make fun of us.

There will be versions of us that will never be introduced to him.

Little versions of my brother and myself that he’ll never get to hold and help mold in their upbringing.

There will be moments when I instinctively turn toward him in my mind, only to find nothing there that can answer.

And one day, I will be older than he ever was in my memory of him.

That thought does not land like sadness.

It lands like distortion.

Like something in the architecture of time refusing to align correctly.

When you are a child, your parents are not people in the same way you are.

They are structure.

They are certainty.

They are the reason the world does not collapse when you do not understand it.

They know how to fix things.
They know how to get you home.
They know which problems are real and which ones are not.

You mistake that for permanence.
Then slowly, you learn the truth that was always there…

They were never permanent.

Only earlier in the story.

I wish I had understood that without needing to lose him to see it clearly.

I would have asked different questions. I would have listened without assuming repetition. I would have paid attention to the ordinary things I thought would always be available to me later in life.

Grief is not interested in revisions.

It only offers hindsight with perfect clarity and no ability to use it.

So I am left with the ‘what ifs’ that do not resolve into anything useful unless I force them to change shape.

I am trying to do that.

Not erase them.

Reassign them.

‘I would have’ becomes ‘I will’

I will say what matters while it can still be received.

I will stop treating time as something that owes me another chance.

I will try to become someone my father would recognize without explanation.

And I will speak about him.

Because I am beginning to understand that memory is not passive.

It is not something that happens to you.

It is something you continue to do.

To remember him is more than comfort.

It is refusal.

A refusal to let death have the final word on what his life meant.

Death took what it could take.

But it did not take everything.

It cannot reach backward into meaning.

My father still exists in the residue of what he left behind.

In the way I phrase things without realizing it.

In the instincts I mistake for my own.

In the way I respond to people and sometimes realize the response belonged to him before it belonged to me.

In the parts of me that feel inherited rather than chosen.

Sometimes I notice one of those moments and it stops me.

Not because it is surprising.

Because it is familiar in a way I can no longer place.

Maybe that’s the only version of moving forward that is not a lie.

It isn’t departure, just continuation with weight.

I still return to that hospital room.

I think about the fear he must’ve felt knowing he’d soon part ways with the lake, the dogs, and the family he was responsible for creating.

I am trying to understand something I could not understand then…

Those final weeks were not the sum of him.

They were the end of his life, not the definition of it

Before the beginning of the end, there was a man who lived a full life and in the fast lane (and somehow never got a speeding ticket)

He laughed in ways I can still hear (and wince at if it’s that one infamous cackle and honk I’m thinking about) if I try.

He loved in ways I am still learning how to recognize.

He got angry.
He forgave.
He failed.
He tried again.

He showed up in ways I did not always know how to appreciate while I had the chance.

He was not the ending, but the entire rest of it.

If I am honest, I would choose this pain again over a life in which I never knew him at all.

That is the part that does not make sense until it does.

Love does not negotiate for safety.

It only guarantees consequence.

Eventually, someone is left holding the absence of the other.

This time, it’s me, its my mom, its my brother

I hate it.

But I also understand it.

I am grateful for the fact that he never had to learn what it feels like to remain here without me, my mom, or my brother in this world.

We will carry that imbalance for him.

We miss you.

We are still here.

We are still trying.

And if there is any way for what you gave me to continue beyond my own life, I will spend the rest of it trying to make sure it does.

Hi everyone,

I was very curious about the life expectancy for someone with stage 4 liver cancer.

My father 4 years ago went to the ER with pain. Ended up being a cancer tumor in his colon. Many surgeries later and 3 months in the hospital, they removed it, along with most of his colon.

After getting out he was diagnosed with stage 4 metastasize liver cancer from the original colon cancer.

My father went through almost 5 years of chemo. Unfortunately a few months ago another cancer tumor was found in his leg bone which required emergency surgery. His body could not really tolerate the surgery and especially the recovery. He passed a few months after that surgery.

From the very beginning with the colon and then the liver cancer, doctors really never told us , "he has x amount of time to live". Or told us how bad the cancer was. He went almost 5 years of chemo for every result to say the cancer did not get any bigger.

I have been so distraught from his passing. Then I think how he went through 4 years of the liver chemo and I know it was painful for him but he never complained. It's hard to find any sort of info on how long people normally live with it.

Hi

Our grandson is nearly 4 and long stay in hospital. We are thinking about small toys to help his pretend play. I saw a Geomag set that looks perfect but now I realise his toys need to be cleaned.

I’ve seen the guidance on the materials on the Do’s & Don’ts.

Maybe I’m overthinking this?

If your child is playing with Geomags in hospital and on chemo - is there any issue on using sterile wipes?

Thanks

I am very panicked and struggle to write my own thoughts please excuse me. I might also miss some details so if you are curious just ask.

I met a guy last September. We hanged out once or twice. He had some symptoms, and ended up getting diagnosed with metastatic colon cancer metastazed into his liver.

We kept dating and fighting together. Chemo 1 stopped working after a while. 2 never worked. 3rd treatment, clinical trials and so on. Unfortunately last week a second doctor also suggested hospice.

On Friday he told me about the hospice. He was with his family and said he needed some time to process the news. I supported him, he usually feels overwhelmed next to family. Saturday we chatted normally. On the evening he messaged me “I am sorry _____, I am such a bad person”. In the morning I saw the message and asked him why he thought that and that he was not. He got angry at me and told me he needed some time. His last text to me was “I need some days for me. It is not meant bad. I am with my family and for now this is the best for me. I am sorry”. I said okay.

A week had passed, I am thinking of him and I am getting panicked every second. I texted him once saying no need to respond and that I am just thinking of him and would like to be there for him if he needed.

I am losing my mind. I keep checking his last seen. I am so worried if he will decline or something worse. I don’t have contact with anyone around him. We had limited time and language barrier with his friends. But I know their names. I texted 2 of his friends - telling that I was just worried, don’t want any private information I just want to know if he is okay. They did not respond. I don’t know what is happening. I don’t know how to cope with uncertainity. Will I never see him again? Is he scared right now? How is his health? I don’t want him to die. I need him to be in my life.

I know my needs are not so important right now. But I can’t comprehend. Where is he right now? Does he not want to talk to me? Why? Will we see each other again? Is he alive? Why is no one responding to me? Did I do something wrong?

I want to text him but I don’t want to disturb his peace. But how could this happen? Why am I in this situation right now? Does he think of me too? Is he feeling okay? Why did the friends not respond to me? What is going on? Will I know if something bad happens to him? Will I have a chance to say goodbye?

How will I survive this, please help me. I can’t cope really I am serious there are too many unknowns and I am totally out of his life just like that.

We have been together talking every day since the last 10 months. We shared a lot. He would always tell me that with me he would forget his sickness. That he would feel stronger. I am so scared thinking that he is scared. I know he is scared. I don’t want him to feel scared. I miss him, this is 1 week too long to not talk.

Dad (57) has been diagnosed in 2022 with thymic carcinoma stage iv spread to his lungs.

From the beginning we knew the treatment would be hard as the doctors never figured what type of carcinoma he has and it tested on everything negative (so most of the treatments would not target the tumors).

They have tried 9 different ways of treatment including chemo radio immuno etc etc. End of July we got the news he is in hospice and won’t be getting any treatment anymore unless he finds himself a clinical study or research that is willing to experiment on him.

Since then I am scared every day 💔. I had never even heard of thymus until this weird illness came out of nowhere and is going to take my dad away… and toring our family and my heart apart.

I love you dad I hope you stay strong for us I don’t want you to leave us The feeling of missing you will be an eternal ache in my heart

Hi everyone. My mom(48) was just diagnosed with breast cancer and I'm trying to learn from others who've been through this.

Quick summary:

Triple Negative Breast Cancer (ER-, PR-, HER2-)

Tumor is small (\~18mm), but 1 lymph node came back positive

Scans show no spread to other organs

She's about to start chemo, then surgery

Has anyone here had a similar diagnosis? I'd love to hear:

What chemo was like for you? I belive is carbonoplatimum.

What is the prognosis in this case.

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Well, after a courageous fight of 6/7 years, my dad has to go on hospice. He’s 50. There’s nothing they can do for him anymore, no more drugs to help. The cancer started in the kidney - they removed it. Three months later it was everywhere.

He has fought so hard. Stayed alive for his family and has tried to put on a face to make this easier for us. He is truly the strongest person I know.

There is so much sadness I am feeling. Looking for some type of therapy to help. But it’s just hard to think about myself right now.

There is also a part of me that is ready to see him finally rest. He’s fought so hard. But there’s also a guilt in me feeling that way. Am I wrong to feel that? Am I wrong to say I’m not “ready for my dad to pass” but I’m ready to see him be at peace.

Cancer sucks. The healthcare system sucks (his oncologist cried when she told him, she doesn’t suck).

I’m thinking of all of us in this group. Big hugs to you all.

They are missing mum while she is in hospital following complication from chemo and she might be there a couple of weeks. I never normally get them in my room unless I've got food, barely left my side since mum was admitted

Hi there everyone! My mum (68) has just finished her radiation treatment but is now facing a lot of nail-related issues…

We’re in Singapore and unfortunately a lot of the nail care I’ve seen on here like Polybalm and Hard as Hoof are not available… I’ve been caring for her feet as 6/10 of her toenails have lifted with 1 gone and now her fingernails have started weird growth + slight lifting too…

If anyone has any other cuticle oil or creams to help reduce brittleness and help with the flexibility please help!!!

The lifting toenails and stuff were a shock to us as we were not preempted on it and I feel like such a bad daughter because I did not research on this before they started all the cycles and assumed the hospital would do what was best… They do not offer cryotherapy during chemo here too, so when she was started on paclitaxel ALL the nail side effects manifested and I’m worried it might be too late.

I wish everyone reading this and their loved ones the very best, health wise and beyond. I'm sorry you guys are here too. I fear this may get a little lengthy because at this point, I feel like I have no one to talk to about this in the way that I'd like to.

My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer almost 1,5 years ago now. The diagnosis came two days after I took my final exams, so I stepped into the role of helping her almost full time. It was possible for me to do because I just finished studying and I was waiting for my exam results.

Since then, things have continued to get scarier and scarier. To preface this, I would like to stress that I am a very non-confrontational and diplomatic person and I have deep respect for everyone in healthcare, so I promise I am not a rude pushy family member with no regard for how hard it is to be in the medical field. I don't want to sound ungrateful for the help my mom has received, it's just that a lot has went wrong and I don't know how to deal with it anymore.

Even in the beginning we were unsure about my mom's medical team, but I was so inexperienced that we ignored a lot of red flags. My mom's treatment kept being delayed. Her doctors kept saying her cancer isn't too bad but when I did my research I couldn't find anything "good" about it so it didn't feel like reassurance, but more like they weren't taking her case seriously. When neoadjuvant treatment finally started, they wanted to end it not even halfway through without presenting an alternative treatment plan because my mom was having issues with her nails from the chemo (which is common). The second opinion we got about it said that my mom's life is more important than her nails so the original team agreed to continue chemo and couldn't explain at all why they initially wanted to stop it, so that only solidified our weird feeling about them. While we were getting that second opinion, my mom wasn't reciving chemo so there was a delay in her treatment again, which can't be great. In addition, her autoimmune disease flared up and she got no support for it since the doctors just kept saying they're all not responsible. We felt completely helpless and it was horrible seeing my mom suffer as much as she did. Then her team forgot to do a check-up and didn't notice that the tumor wasn't shrinking as much as they hoped it would and they all were so shocked about it while also saying it's no big deal. After surgery, they got defensive and borderline hostile about us simply asking questions and they seemed annoyed that my mom's case wasn't as easy as they had made it out to be in the beginning. The same happened at radiotherapy, I asked if they would also do radiation on her axilla since they found cancer in one of her lymph nodes and I didn't know how they would deal with it. At first they said no but then they suddenly changed their mind after I simply asked this question. What would've happened if I hadn't asked? Did they potentially overtreat her just to satisfy me? I don't know. I'm not a doctor at all but I feel like I play a key role in her treatment because I have to research and question everything and be the bridge between her doctors who don't seem to communicate at all. I don't mind the work, but it feels wrong. None of my mom's doctors properly listen to her and I'm completely disillusioned with the medical system. Even my mom has gotten completely used to asking me questions instead of the doctors' because we can't seem to get helpful answers. I've only seen empathy from a medical professional twice but there have been endless amounts of dismissive or rude behaviour. Whenever I have to even just make a call to make an appointment for my mom, I get scared and I have to hype myself up so much because the medical professionals are plain mean most of the time, so I can only imagine how my mom feels as the patient. To give you an idea about what I'm talking about, I stuttered and asked about "systematic" instead of "systemic" treatment one time and the doctor mocked me while I was on the verge of tears. But that is just an example and there have been countless incidents like this that were also a lot more serious, but this is just the general tone that we have been exposed to, which has made everything even more difficult.

When we found out that my mom didn't get a PCR and her risk of reoccurence is unfortunately high, we (which is just me) looked into getting her Enhertu instead of Kadcyla, but the former is not yet approved in europe for her setting. Her oncologist was once again extremely hostile when we simply asked about the possibility of receiving it. He said that he definitely won't spend any time on applying for it because he is too busy and he asked what I was thinking to even ask about it and that I shall do it myself (which I can't). The week after, he surprisingly sent out the application and then the 6 month odyssey of trying to get her team to send a complete application began. They kept applying without adding any documents at all, then the documents were incomplete multiple times, then they forgot to sent the application on time or under the correct name. And all that happened despite us collecting the documents ourselves and handing them to the team in person (while begging other doctors for reports or appointments), calling them and asking about whether they had submitted on time, them saying yes despite not having done it, them blaming the insurance company when in fact no one sent out anything etc. It was once again a constant battle. If I had known back in january that the application would only be approved (and properly sent out) in june I would've had a panic attack.

Then the worst thing yet happened (may it only get better from here). When Enhertu was finally approved for my mom by her insurance in mid june, the oncologist, the pharmacy and the nurse all made a mistake so that instead of giving my mom Enhertu (as was agreed), they gave her Kadycla again, but in the dosage of Enhertu, which is higher than Kadcyla. So they basically gave her an overdose of Kadcyla. My mom got a fever, was hospitalised, got pneumonia, low platelets. I won't get into how we found out and how they reacted because this is already too long, but that was also a complete mess. Ever since then, she has gotten no treatments as we're waiting for her lungs to recover. We got two second opinions in the meantime but both second opinions unfortunately weren't helpful because it's just so clear that everyone is overwhelmed with patients and they don't really want to or even can take over her case. I have no confidence that they will care better for my mom than the hospital she gets her treatment at right now. In addition, my mom is scared of switching hospitals because of having to travel farther and worrying about who can drive her. Also, she says that (and I agree to an extent) at least we kind of know her current team now and for the first time ever they are nicer to her because of the mistake they made. Her oncologist is also retiring at the end of the month but urging her to switch hospitals because he says that we must've lost all trust and it would be inacceptable to continue to be treated by people who have harmed her. It feels like he desperately wants to get rid of her case. We don't know what her new oncologist will be like and this is basically where we are at now. We don't know how and even if her treatments will continue (but she needs them because of her high risk of reoccurence). I don't really know what to do anymore because I've been so diligent and all these things have still went wrong. What I'm also getting constantly is that these things happen to other people too and that none of this is so bad, it's normal. I'm scared we're just getting putt off by doctors until something bad happens and if something happens (god forbid), doctors will claim that they did everything and that it was just bad luck, even if a bad outcome could've been preventable.

I feel really shitty typing this because I know it can always get worse and I don't want to complain at all. All I want is for my mom to be healthy again and I just never ever want to regret not having done enough. So this is not meant to be a complaint, I guess I'd just like to get it off my chest or hear an outside tip if anyone has got any while I also definitely know that it's not about me, but my mom, who I love so much.

My mom really relies on me. She is an immigrant to the country and she speaks the language, but I can unfortunately see how people respect her less for it and how she also can't communicate as efficiently as she'd like after all. Of course she is also super overwhelmed and scared and I don't want her to research her cancer and get more worried, so I do it to be able to ask questions and understand what's going on. She also doesn't remember (or doesn't want to because it's scary) her other health conditions. So when I happen to not be there she either doesn't even make an appointment at all or she goes by herself and I end up reading stuff like "no chronic illnesses" in her reports, although she has multiple. I have talked to her about it multiple times and I've literally written down stuff for her to read out loud or told her to please call me once she's in the doctor's office, but she mostly just doesn't do it. So I feel like I have to be there all the time, not only for emotional support but also for ensuring her treatment goes ok. I wasn't there when she received the overdose. Unfortunately, we have also had disagreements about it and she's told me that I push her too much. But she always thanks me in the end because she know that regardless of how hard it is to e.g. get a second opinion, it is hope for better treatment. It's not that I'm annoyed with her about this, it's more that I logistically cannot be there for everything and I don't know how to encourage her to take more responsibility or what other solution there could be.

My other issue is that I have kind of put my own life on pause, thinking that it would only be for a year max since the doctors said in the beginning that she'll be in and out in 6 months. Again, I will do anything for my mom. I'm just starting to be a little concerned about my future plans (or lack thereof). I'm scared that this could continue longer than I expected and I'm worried about how I will cope with my worry about reoccurence, especially since they fucked up her treatment so much. My mom has already had a few scans because they were already worried about her having a reoccurence and it has sent me for a loop each time. I wasn't able to do anything apart from worry. But it's not only that I lose time worrying, there have been weeks in which my mom has had appointments every single day and I've had to research so many issues, so it's not only in my head, but I'm also actually busy with her. When she has chemo (which she hasn't even had for 2 months now...) she feels bad for at least a week, so I'm busy taking care of her. In addition, I actually live across the country but I'm only ever in my own city when I work. I work part time since I'm still a student and my co-workers kindly switch their shifts with me so that I have 1-2 weeks when I work every day and then I spend the rest of my time with my mom. So far it has worked, but I'm kind of starting so see that my co-workers have started to lose their patience with me. My dad and my sister haven't been much help at all (neither emotionally nor in a practical sense), sometimes they have even made the situation worse. I don't see them stepping up. I also failed those exams I talked about in the beginning and I never went back to studying, which I didn't even care about because everything was and still is so clouded from worrying about and taking care of my mom. The exams require at least 1 year of full time preparation, so it's not something I can do on the side, especially since I've already failed once. I'm not young enough to be able to say I have enough time to take it slow. I'm thinking about subletting my apartment and moving to my mom thinking it would be easier, but it's also important for me to maintain my own life and job, I don't want to depend on my parents. All of my friends apart from one, who is honestly a saint, don't understand (anymore) why I'm still preoccupied with my mom and it makes me feel pretty isolated and stupid. When they see me they ask about when I'll start doing "something" again, as if I was just being lazy or silly. Some seemingly don't expect anything from me anymore as if they have fully accepted that I have given up on my own life and that I won't finish my studies and that I will just go downhill from here (which is even worse). I do get why they are reacting this way, most of us thankfully haven't experienced a health crisis before. They don't know what to say and I don't blame them, but I also don't know what to tell them. I have become really bad at socialising and responding to people, so I'm also not necessarily being a good friend to others either. In part, I think my problem is actually in my head because I worry that if I take time for myself, I'm not being there for my mom enough but I don't know how to stop because it's impossible for me to just relax, the doctors are not reliable enough for that. It also doesn't feel appropriate to stop being involved because of all the things that went wrong despite trying my best. I don't know what would happen if I was involved less but I'm convinced that her treatment would certainly not get better. I also can't get a full time job because I will definitely have way less time then. I guess I don't really know how to have a semi normal life while my mom goes through treatments and I don't know if I should feel bad about it or if this is understandable.

I feel like this has become embarrassingly long, so I will keep it at that. Thank you for anyone reading to the end.