Questions for those who have experienced the death of a loved one by lung cancer

My mother has Stage IV non-small cell lung cancer that has metastasized into her brain and lymph nodes. She has had a major problem with blood clots in her legs but that seems to be resolved; she’s mobility impaired but the swelling has gone down substantially and she’s not in serious pain.

She has had amazingly little adverse reaction to chemotherapy (some hair loss [though I’ve known women who were healthy who had thinner hair], very mild nausea that quickly subsided) and radiation leaves her tired some days but never terribly so. All in all she seems healthy other than she’s oxygen dependant and has problems walking more than a few yards. However, the most generous prognosis I’ve heard is 2 years but other doctors say frankly less than a year is more likely- one said (in her presence [the bastard]) that he’d be surprised if she lives 6 months.

So, I have no delusions about my mother’s probably future, but I would like to know from those who have any knowledge of people who died of lung cancer what to expect. (I’m never where I can ask her doctors without her around.) In your experience is it a gradual weakening or does the patient suddenly sink/roller-coaster/hit plateaus, etc.? What are warning signs that she’s getting worse? (I was concerned when she had chest pains for a couple of days but they passed and she hasn’t had them for a few days.) What advice would you give about ways to keep her comfortable or anything that may make her convalescence less unpleasant (adjustable beds, particular types of mattress, etc.)? When the decline happens is it usually one particular symptom or several at once?

My family’s been well blessed where cancer is concerned and she’s the first in several generations to have it to this extent. (My great-grandmother died of cancer but she was 100- she had to die of something- that was the last person in the family to do so.) I’m glad we haven’t had to go through this but it does leave me with questions and a desire to know more about things to expect.

Much thanks for any info.

You may want to post your questions at this site: http://www.cancerforums.net/ as well as here.

Best wishes to you and your mom for as much peace and goodness as is possible. I hope your mother has a “good death” (i.e., that she accomplishes what she wants to and gets to have this time be as much as possible what she wants it to be). Me, I plan to have as many dramatic bedside goodbyes as I can arrange.

Dammit, I hate when I post as my husband. That was me above.

I lost an uncle to lung cancer several years ago. He was given 6 months when diagnosed but lived seven years beyond that. I recommend that you contact Hospice now - they are remarkable people who helped my uncle end as he wished - at home, surrounded by his loved ones, and pain-free. I cannot recommend Hospice enough. They also can also provide counseling services for family members if needed.

I’m sorry that your mother, and you, have to go through this.

I’m gonna answer as both someone who lost (my only) brother from lung cancer, and also from the perspective of a doc.

Unfortunately, the prognosis is grim. Even with treatment, the average life expectancy is about eight months (treatment with chemo may confer another month or so).

My brother suffered a lot - mostly because of the metastases he had in his liver. That caused him a huge amount of distress due to both pain and nausea. Things were possibly worse for him since, as a result of his chemo and (unrelated)diabetic nerve damage to his stomach, his stomach didn’t empty properly. From my perspective, it looked like he suffered more from the nausea than anything else.

At the risk of sounding ‘clinical’, I should point out that a common cause of death in cancer patients is due to blood clots that have traveled from the legs to the lungs. Often, when that happens, the end is quick - possibly a blessing for some.

In the absence of a clot suddenly going to the lungs, people with metastatic lung cancer often succumb to pneumonia. So long as they’re getting oxygen and morphine to relieve (or suppress) their sensation of breathlessness, that is probably not a ‘bad’ way to go. On the other hand, some people with lung cancer (including big brother) have so much cancer in their livers that it leads to liver failure - not just jaundice (yellow skin), but also accumulation of poisions normally cleared by the liver leading to confusion, and even diffuse bleeding (the liver normally makes most of the clotting factors).

Again, my sympathies. It is a shitty, shitty thing.

Sampiro, I’m so sorry about your mom.

My first husband had pulmonary fibrosis and was being treated for it when things got rapidly worse. (He was working full-time at a factory job in September and died in January.) The doctors seemed surprised. They didn’t know he had lung adenocarcinoma until the autopsy.

They thought that the stuff on the x-ray was the fibrosis. It was cancer. The outcome would probably have been the same, since his lungs were so damaged, but I’ve always wondered.

Anyway, the point of all that (above) is that your mom’s experience is going to be individual to her. Be ready for anything, as much as you can.

My husband was bedridden for about three months. We got him a vibrating mattress pad. It cost about $120. It helped prevent bedsores.

He appreciated sponge baths and lotion, and I cleaned his teeth for him. Bedpan duty was no problem – he wasn’t eating much and his digestive system probably slowed down.

Before he got really sick, the medications caused constipation. The only thing that helped was a stool softener.

Toward the end, he became fearful and couldn’t be left alone. Someone had to be in his sight all the time. Be ready for that, and have mom someplace where she can see people, if that’s what she wants. But he didn’t like noise, no TV or radio, and small voices.

He had no pain, so I have nothing to offer in that regard.

Best wishes to you, and don’t be afraid to ask for help, whether it’s a family member or a home health nurse. You’ll do better for your mom if you keep yourself healthy and calm.

My aunt died of it a few months ago. I believe in November she was given about three months, and that turned out to be a realistic estimate. Luckily, she was able to stay at home for most of that time - she would go into the hospital sometimes, but always go back home, and she was at home until a few hours before her death. Unfortunately, she was very unwilling to give in and do some of the things that would have made her more comfortable in her last days - she refused to get a hospital bed, for example, and she insisted on continuing with chemo after her doctors suggested she stop. She also refused to take full advantage of hospice services. She was very much afraid of death, and of doing anything that might mean “giving in”.

One of the things that she refused to do, which I think was kind of selfish of her, is to tell her children how bad it was and how little time she had left. Her sister, my other aunt, just about killed herself taking care of her because the children didn’t know how bad it was. By the time they organized themselves into shifts and such, she only had a few weeks left. They didn’t end up spending the time with their mother at the end that I’m sure they would have spent, had they known.

The last thing I want to do is to scare you about how it’s going to be, but I do dearly want you to avoid some of the awful things about my aunt’s death, if you can. The hospice people can do so much for you at the end, but they can’t do it if you won’t let them. Also, look at my other aunt - it just ate her alive. As a caretaker, you have got to be careful to take care of yourself also. It’s easy to let somebody who is dying eat your life - in fact, taking care of yourself can seem like a betrayal. Hell, believe it or not she went back to smoking from the stress, watching her sister die of lung cancer. Also, it can be very difficult to convince (or, I hate to say it, force) somebody like that into doing the things that they need to do for themselves and their families. If somebody had gone behind her back and gotten that hospital bed, my aunt could have been so much more comfortable in her last days. I just don’t want that to happen to your mother, or to you.

I am sorry to hear about your mother, Sampiro - she and you and your family are in my prayers.

My grandfather died of lung cancer, although he never smoked. I am told (by my cousin-in-law the pulmonologist) that lung cancer is worse (if possible) for non-smokers. But my grandfather died six weeks after developing his first symptom. But it was straight downhill, so I don’t have any things to warn you to watch for.

I would only warn you also to take care of yourself. Your mother has lots of folks watching out for her - make sure you stay healthy. If someone offers to help, accept gratefully and ask them to do something specific - clean, shop, cook, whatever would help.

Again, my sympathies.

Regards,
Shodan

My mother died of lung cancer in 2001. It was a really hard death for her, and for our family. She had chemo/radiation but it only delayed the progress of the disease. She lost the use of her hands first (in fact, pain in her hands and a sensation of cold in her hands was the first symptom for her) which made everything so difficult. Helplessness, anxiety, and anger were very strong emotions she experienced. She had a lot of trouble eating/sleeping, lost a lot of weight, became immobile. In and out of the local hospital, but a lot of time at home, too, with the help of home care workers and nurse liaisons. We were lucky enough to have a hospice ward at the local hospital–the hospital has now been closed, thank you Premier Campbell, I hope you rot. If the hospital had not been in my mother’s town, it would have been much more of a nightmare than it was, having to drive 45 minutes to get there. Anyway.

My mother experienced a lot of anxiety as the disease progressed, and it was very hard on the family. My father had been a long-time, under-the-radar alcoholic, and his own disease blossomed in a spectacularly ugly fashion as my mother got sicker and sicker. He took on too much care-giving, and then would lapse into alcoholic-induced, dunno what you’d call it–he’d go off and get drunk and stay drunk for days down in the basement. Sometimes a week or more. Luckily, my brother and I were able to come to the house and stay, and my mother’s family was wonderful.

If he had accepted more help, or allowed himself to utilise the breaks that caregivers/family members NEED, then maybe he wouldn’t have fallen apart so dramatically. And there were people to help.

Anyway. My mother’s diagnosis was in early summer 2000 and she died in February 2001. It seems really fast, in some ways, and in others, it was agonisingly slow. She knew all along that the prognosis was going to be fatal, but had a very hard time accepting it. She was 63; I don’t blame her. She was also, needless to say, a life-long heavy smoker.

She was on a lot of meds for nausea, anxiety, pain, digestion, and the meds all mixed together were really hard on her body, too.

She did not want to talk about her death. She would not consent to a DNR order. She still had hope even as she got sicker and sicker, and not being able to reconcile that with the reality of her deterioration was incredibly difficult on her. She was so scared, and she was so angry at dying, and probably so angry with herself for not being able to quit smoking.

We tried to do what she wanted. Be at home, see her sisters, watch CNN day and night, sleep when she wanted, eat a little lobster salad. My aunt procurred a substance usually smoked that in Canada is, I believe, either legal or not prosecuted when used to alleviate pain/nausea in terminally ill people, and I swear, it worked for my mother. My aunt made some homemade crackers with this substance included, and eating them seemed to both calm my mother and give her a little appetite.

It is hard to keep people comfortable with this disease. It is painful, and losing so much weight hurt my mother. Lying down hurt her; sitting up hurt her. Most of all, it was this helplessness, not being able to use her hands, which happened right at the start of the disease, and I don’t think it’s all that common. She hated, hated, hated, the helplessness of it.

Her world got small: the living room, the bedroom, and the hospital room, depending on where she was. Visitors were really important to her. Short visits, mind you, with news and talk of what the patient is interested in.

It was interesting to see how people were: friends that she’d only known for a couple of years (through her avid duplicate bridge playing) were amazing, and I tear up thinking about them. People who came and visited her, talked to her, brought some food or flowers, and anything that might have made her happy/more comfortable. People who may not have liked being around sickness/death, but came anyway, because they knew how much it meant to my mum to have people to see, to talk to.

And then some of my mother’s oldest friends: two in particular that I can think of, and one who lived not a block away. I didn’t see this woman once during my mother’s illness (she was away for part of the winter, but still… not once, and I was at my parents’ house for weeks at a time) and another one who didn’t visit and didn’t come to the funeral. I will never forget that, just as I will never forget the women who visited my mother in the hospital and at home, and who sat and talked with her, or just sat and kept her company, and let my mother doze off or not, but were just there. And my auntie Norma, for doing SO much.

Oh, boy, I’m off on a tangent. Anyway, don’t be surprised when you’re surprised at how people are around death, if it comes to that for your mother. And I hope that you have people like the ones that my mother was so lucky to have.

If your mum gets really sick and she is dying, and you are there for a long time with her, you will feel some emotions that you will hate yourself for. You might be angry at her, and angry at yourself, and be prepared for them. You will likely feel guilty about not being able to do enough, and not being able to make her better. Just do everything you can for her, WITHOUT destroying yourself. Take care of yourself.

Get a flu shot, and if you have any kind of sickness, stay back, because the cancer patient is going to be very vulnerable.

Hospice is a very good thing. As an agnostic, I really hope there’s a heaven, because some people, my mother’s friends, Auntie Norma and the hospice nurses (99.9 percent of them anyway) should get an express ride to the best place in the universe.

I don’t want this to sound horrible, as if I’m assuming your mother will succumb to cancer, and I’m sorry if this does, but this is how it was for us.

Take care, and I hope it is going to be okay for you and your family. It’s a hard thing. Stick together. Lean on each other. Don’t be afraid to cry.

I just want to second that. You have to take care of yourself or you won’t be able to be there for your mother, and you won’t be any good for yourself either.

Same with our family. It wasn’t the time to quit, not with the stress of it all.

My Mom also had Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer (IIIb when diagnosed), and she really took a beating during treatments. The cancer went into remission, but the chemo pretty much destroyed her lungs worse than the cancer, and after lingering for two weeks on a ventilator, passed away January 6, 2004.

As others said previously, you really find out who your true friends are when going through something like this, either as the sick or as a family member of the sick.

Let others help you, as this ordeal is emotionally draining. Let others be there for you if they want to. Don’t try to “be strong” and shoulder it all yourself. If there’s anything your mother’s left undone, such as family photo albums, or farewell letters, help her to find closure in getting these things done. It may help give her peace, and may provide an amazing family bonding experience before she goes.

And I hate to be the materialistic weasel here, but make sure all her affairs are in order; in my experience, every family has at least one person who wants the family heirlooms and keepsakes (and any spare cash lying around) when someone passes on, plus anything of use or value left over from the household (appliances, furniture, etc.), regardless of the deceased’s last wishes, so a will with explicit directions concerning the disposal of real and listed property is a must.

Good luck, be strong, and feel free to drop me a line (e-mail’s in the profile) if you have anything more specific to talk about that I haven’t covered here.

Thanks to all who responded, and please don’t worry (for those who say they didn’t want to upset me) about upsetting me. I want to be prepared, and I already knew that lung cancer is anything but a pretty and quick death. When she was having her blood clot problems I actually found myself subconsciously hoping one would end her life as I’d far rather go that way than from the “long” route.

On the “materialistic” front, that’s a major issue with my mother. She simply refuses to make a will or even final requests about what she wants done with her remains, what if any insurance policies she has (I know there’s at least a small burial policy), her pension (she’s been retired for less than 2 years so I don’t know if there’s “equity” or whatever you call it left), who her debts are to, etc… I have a suspicion that the refusal to deal with the issues is in part “if I make a will and plan my funeral then I’m saying I’m dying”, but… she is. And it’s going to be a major fight when she dies if she doesn’t tell us these things now.

Sorry to hear about your mom.

My mother started feeling ill (bad shortness of breath) on November 25 (a Friday, the day after Thanksgiving). My sister took her to the hospital. I had had Thanksgiving with her and other family members the day before, and she had looked fine.

Over the weekend, we got the bad foreshadowing when we heard “possibility of mets.”

Tuesday, we got the official word: Cancer, *probably lung, probably small cell, definitely terminal. Treatment wasn’t even a realistic option.

Thursday, I ask the doctor, “Are we looking at days or weeks?” When I said “weeks,” he shook his head.

She stopped breathing at about 3:00 AM Sunday morning (or late Saturday night). From the time she went to the hospital, about 8½ days.

Mercifully, it was short, and she was sufficiently doped up that I doubt she actually felt any pain.

*Some more info: My mother had been admitted the previous year with breathing problems. Knowing her history they did all sorts of scans on her, suspecting that cancer was a possibility.

All came back negative.

It would later turn out that she had had an allergic reaction to an antibiotic that she had been given for a respiratory bug, which had caused a lot of internal swelling.

Now, going back to her cancer–the doctor told me that her case had been the topic of the hospital staff meeting that Tuesday morning. During the meeting, they had all her earlier scans and xrays from the previous year to see whether they had missed anything. They all agreed that there was nothing that could be seen on them. The doctor did tell me, “We can’t say for sure that there were no cancerous cells in her body at that time, but if there were, they didn’t form a tumor large enough to be picked up.”

Treatment was not an option because the doctor said before they could come up with a treatment, they would need to do an open biopsy, basically exploratory surgery. He also said that in her extremely weakened condition, they would probably lose her on the table.

They assumed small cell, since it spreads more agressively than non-small cell–although her case was atypically short even by small cell standards.

I’d give anything to have had her around just another month, but if there was anything good about her case, it was that it was mercifully short, and we’ll always remember that last Thanksgiving.

I’m so sorry about your mom.

I’ll tell you what happened in our family, but obviously everyone’s story is different. My mom was diagnosed at the end of April '05 and died in August '05. She didn’t want to discuss prognosis, saying that it didn’t matter. Who knew which side of the statistics she’d be on. She was just going to fight it as best she could. However, this inability to discuss her case made it more difficult to make practical decisions. If I had it to do over, I’d have met with her doctor alone to get a better understanding. (She was fine with that option, BTW.)

Medically, she didn’t tolerate the chemo well, and struggled to eat anything. It was more than nausea, her system was shutting down and she couldn’t digest food. She decided to get a stomach feeding tube, but after a week or so in the hospital, even that wasn’t working well. They sent her home from the hospital and we thought that was a good sign. It wasn’t. She died about a week later.

**Comfort things: ** Soft clothes without tags. Recliner. Egg-crate mattress pad. Whatever food she wants. Plenty of both hot and cold beverages. Nice visuals from bed - we rearranged the bedroom so she had a better view. Whatever meds she wants.

**Emotional things: ** Mom got really mean and irritable. Understandable, I know, but it caught us all off guard given her normal personality. Personally, the whole process, while agonizing, went unbelievably fast. I wish I would have spent that time talking to Mom more about substantive things. I didn’t really grasp that I’d never again have the chance to do that. Instead I tried to be chipper and make the best of a very lousy situation. Take care of yourself. Everyone says it, no one does it, but it is so very important. I hope you have friends/relatives that can help make this possible.

**Practical things: ** Like so many others have said, Hospice is wonderful. They guided our family through the details of the last couple of days with grace. Use them. Also, I know you are getting resistance to the legal stuff that needs doing, but push that issue. For my mom, she didn’t want to do it because it was an indication that she really might not live. But my brother just had to prep everything for her and make the decision making as easy as possible.

You asked what to expect. I will add that on her last day she was livelier than she’d been. Up and working on puzzles and playing games with the family. This could have been because all of her kids were gathering, but I think it was more a final burst of energy. She got into a sort of fun, rebellious mode and took her oxygen off for a free stroll around the house. She was laughing about indulging herself this way. She ate more that day than she had in weeks. She went to bed peacefully that night. When she woke up in the morning she told my sister that she just really wanted to sleep, but couldn’t and asked if there were any drugs that could help. (My sister was the keeper of the magical box of Hospice drugs.) There were and she took them. She never regained consciousness, but had about another 18 hours of “actively dying”. During that time she was generally unresponsive, but did give some indication that she knew what was happening around her and who was there.

I wish I could say something more encouraging, but as you’ve already said, you know this is just terrible. It is. I knew that and frankly, it was worse than I was expecting. I hope this discussion helps you and your family during this very difficult time.

Sampiro, is there anyone your mother respects she might listen to? I hate to think about what you will have to go through legally, after so much emotional pain, if she will not help get her affairs in order. An older friend, a pastor, a former co-worker…anyone she might listen to and work with on this. Is there a family lawyer? Again, Hospice may have some ideas on this - I’m sure they’ve seen situations such as this before.

I am so sorry you are having to deal with this. If there is anything I can do to help, I’m not that far away and I am not employed at the moment. Mr. SCL can feed cats and empty litterboxes for a little while - he’s done it before. The last time was when I went to Florida for my uncle’s passing from this same nasty disease. I hope, in the end, your mom’s passing is a peaceful as his was.

You are very much in my thoughts. You have my e-mail if you need me.

Every lung cancer patient is different. My father was diagnosed with lung cancer two months after my mother died. My father refused medical treatment, which was for him the right choice. My half-brother wanted to shanghai him and FORCE him into chemo, etc. which ticked me off. Dad had all his wits about him and had made his decision. I hold half-bro to back off.

Dad became a little slower, but continued to enjoy the things he always had: auctions, poker, going to get ice cream. I knew he was declining, but I didn’t want to take away any of his independence, so I very carefully broached the subject of me living with him. He agreed to “take me in” (hey, you play the game their way). I moved back home to take care of him.

He would get dizzy and short of breath, but only after exertion. I took over the heavy lifting (lawn mowing, that type of thing). Then his leg and arm started bugging him – it was only a few days. It got so painful that I demanded he go to the doctor. They found nothing wrong. On a Sunday night, he must have stepped funny or something, but broke his leg. That’s when they discovered the cancer had metasized to his femur (hence the break), his breastbone, and arm. He had also developed pneumonia, but they wanted to do surgery to at least make his leg hurt less. Anyway, about 12 hours after the surgery, he died from a pulmonary embolism.

My father was (to quote the doctor at the VA hospital) a tough old soldier. The fact that until the day before a metasized femur break he was up and around, doing laundry and driving, was surprising to the doctors. And he went fast, all things considered.

For me, the key to helping Dad through the process was to listen and appreciate what he was going through. I didn’t treat him like an invalid or a “cancer victim,” or try to take away his independence. Support, yes, but don’t impose. And get things in order financially and emotionally – it will ease both your minds.

Many hugs to you.

My uncle died of lung cancer a year and a half ago. He lived about nine months after diagnosis. The course of his disease was up and down - my cousins would alert the family and we’d all get to the hospital the next day to say goodbye, then he’d improve (twice to the point of being sent home on oxygen), then he’d decline again and go back into the hospital. The pain wasn’t too bad most of the time, but they had a terrible time keeping his oxygen levels up, especially when he was home. His girlfriend insisted on staying with him to care for him, but she wasn’t good at making sure he stayed on the oxygen at all times. His final crisis actually wasn’t too bad - he was very tired and confused mentally at the end, but he wasn’t in very much pain.

I’d just reiterate what others have said: hospice can be a godsend; accept all offers of help, even though you might feel you should do it all yourself; do whatever you can to encourage her to cooperate on the legal matters. If your mother out and out refuses to talk about it, at least try to get your siblings to sit down and discuss things with you so that you’re all clear about everyone’s opinions. You may not be able to avoid fighting altogether, but you might be able to head off some of the worst battles if you talk things out ahead of time.

I can tell you one more thing I learned from watching my cousins go through this. You and your brother and sister need to try to go easy on each other as much as possible. Each one of you is likely to resent the others for something as you deal with this. You may find yourselves fighting over things you never thought you’d care about. It’s almost impossible to get through a time like this with any kind of grace, but as hard as it is, try to be kind to your siblings, even when you want to rip their stupid heads off. If you can accept help from people outside your immediate family, that can help relieve tensions a great deal.

From all your stories about your family, I feel like I know them and I actually feel rather fond of them (and you too). I’m very sorry all of you have to go through such a terrible thing.

This is how my mother passed, nearly 2 years ago. She’d had an x-ray or CT scan (I forget which) that showed metastases, and the doctor phoned her and told her to come check into the hospital for observation. This was on a Thursday, I think. The expectation was actually that she’d improve enough to perhaps go for a bronchoscopy (which can give some symptomatic relief) then go home on oxygen, and we were making plans for full-time care at home - expecting her to have months perhaps (they were discussing chemo options also).

I saw her on Saturday and she was lively, having the time of her life with visitors etc. Sunday she was “lower”, a bit more breathless. She was not formally diagnosed with pneumonia but that was the assumption (and it wasn’t responding to IV antibiotics). By Monday she was sleeping much of the time - was just barely aware of my out-of-town brother’s arrival. Her last conscious communications were during the night / early Tuesday morning. They put her on morphine to relieve the hunger for breathing and between the illness and the morphine, she did not rouse again. She slipped away suddenly Wednesday evening - probably due to a stroke / blood clot. Though the last few minutes were evidently uncomfortable (I had gone home to shower so did not witness this), her last few days were evidently otherwise fairly peaceful. The other person I knew of who died of lung cancer also slipped away suddenly due to an embolism.

Though, on Monday, she was aware she was slipping away. I was the one she asked - via note - “Am I expected to die”. That was not good for either of us. Her instructions on her funeral arrangements were easier than that, and there was some mirth when she swatted a nurse with a plastic basin (to get nurse’s attention to thank her for doing some service for her).

Sampiro - I remember your posting that your mother was considered terminally ill but did not realize it was lung cancer. I’m so sorry. May she have months of hell-on-wheels, followed by a peaceful leavetaking.

I will say, the hospital setting was far better for her than home care might have been. My father died at home after a bout with prostate cancer and he was in terrible pain, which was not well controlled. He’d have fared better, I think, if he’d had IV medication.

This depends on the doctors and hospitals where you are. When my mother-in-law was dying, she was in the hospital when the doctors told us “there was nothing they could do for her”. I took my husband to a empty waiting room and raised hell - told him if the doctors idea of “doing anything” included controlling her pain, then they needed to get her out of there and get hospice. I’m sure it’s not all doctors and all hospitals, but this hospital is notorious for being very tight with the pain meds, even for people who are dying. There is no reason for a human being to have to die in extreme pain - it is not only unfair to them, but to their loved ones. That is the main reason I suggested contacting hospice - one of their missions is to make sure their patients pass without pain, as much as is possible.

Wanted to add:

Mom was diagnosed with stage 1 non-small-cell (I think, it was the “good” kind) about 2 years before her death. She’d had a lung removed and they thought that got it all, but it came back about a year later. She did go through chemo (ineffective) and radiation (limited effect). And she started on some new, very $$$, pill that was supposed to buy time. I’m blanking on the name of it now but its promise has not panned out, I gather.

Her immune system was pretty badly messed up by the treatments, and she had nasty cases of thrush (oral yeast infection, which I actually diagnosed for her over the phone based on my own experiences) and cutaneous fungal infections that led to a miserable weekend before she got to the doc - again, I recognized the symptoms and strong-armed her into seeing the doctor about that. So keep an eye out for things like that and don’t let her be shy about seeking treatment - they are quite treatable. Only, a 20-year-old bottle of athlete’s foot remedy won’t work on the skin infection :smack: