Hi,

I’m so sorry to read about your dad, I have lost 3 people to cancer in the last year and their end was all fairly similar. 

My beloved mum was most recently and I am struggling so much. She was only diagnosed with a Glioblastoma Multiforme stage 4 in December 2017, she fought so hard and had chemo several times but at the end of May she was admitted to hospital with sepsis. She perked up for a few days but after a week her confusion was returning and she was transferred to a hospice. Due to the nature of the tumour and her being confused she had tonhace sedation in the hospice because she was getting too distraught - I happened to be there that night and it was so upsetting. I didn’t have another conversation wih her, she was sedated for the next two weeks and you could slowly see her getting weaker. The last couple of days her breathing became noisier and she was making some gurgling sounds but as she was sedated she did eventually just stop breathing :-(

I will say one thing, crying as I write this. Nothing will ever prepare you for losing a parent. After mum’s diagnosis we were told it wouldn’t be long but the pain from losing her has been so immense, unbearable at times. There is a pain in my chest most days and sometimes the thoughts about mum are so consuming, I just don’t know what to do with myself. She was only 66 and had still been working in October 2017 before the diagnosis. 

Such an unfair disease :-(

x

I am so sorry to read this and my heart aches for you.  And for what I am going to endure in the next months I fear.

My mum was diagnosed with a Glio stage 4 in March 2018.  She had 2 operations to remove part of the brain tumour, but we were told it was an arachnitumour (spider like with tendrills going down the brain) So unable to remove.  Shes had 21 days radio therapy, and 3 lots of 7 days chemo tablets.  This week her platelets were too low so we hae to go back next week. then hopefully 3 more sessions.

I know the prognosis isnt good, but she's so well and positive, its hard to believe its going to happen.  She gets very fatigued, and incontinance, but over all is doing well.

She's my best friend and thats why I think im in denial a bit, and your post has made me write.

I really hope you are ok. And get the help you need.  As I'm sure I will too in the future.

Jo

I am so sorry to read this and my heart aches for you.  And for what I am going to endure in the next months I fear.

My mum was diagnosed with a Glio stage 4 in March 2018.  She had 2 operations to remove part of the brain tumour, but we were told it was an arachnitumour (spider like with tendrills going down the brain) So unable to remove.  Shes had 21 days radio therapy, and 3 lots of 7 days chemo tablets.  This week her platelets were too low so we hae to go back next week. then hopefully 3 more sessions.

I know the prognosis isnt good, but she's so well and positive, its hard to believe its going to happen.  She gets very fatigued, and incontinance, but over all is doing well.

She's my best friend and thats why I think im in denial a bit, and your post has made me write.

I really hope you are ok. And get the help you need.  As I'm sure I will too in the future.

Jo

Hi all.

I'm saddened by your news, I lost my dad 2 weeks ago today.

The disease hit us like a ton of bricks in February after no real indication, he struggled walking in to work one day and we initially thought it was a stroke, I really do wish it was a stroke, a month before we was playing sports together, helping each other at work and holidaying.

They operated on the tumour and removed a large mass but they couldn't get to a small section, the cancer was spider like and stage 4 so it was aggressive, after the surgery he lost a lot of use of his right side and was essentially paralyzed. This didn't get him down and he received radiotherapy and he was 1 last chemo session away from completion, and very positive and still himself. You can't guess or begin to guess what you are going to be in for, this cruel disease has no limits as it is playing with your brain, just enjoy every moment you spend with them, I hoped I would see my dad for at least 2 years and after his 6 month scan it become more realistic as the tumour was stable and showed no signs of movement, we was thrilled and inspired that he may beat this disease to some degree. 

Sadly we lost our inspiring dad, with his infectious laugh and positivity, the most heart breaking thing is it wasn't due to the tumour, or not directly due to it, he struggled to get his breathe so was taken in to hospital in which they found numerous amount of clots, it was to little too late, our only questions are as to why he wasn't given blood thinners as they had always struggled for blood from him and he was at a severe risk of getting them due to his immobility.

I hope that your loved ones beat this, we felt our dad did so well and we are broken that he has gone at such a young age of 51, this disease had no limit and no definitive answers as to what will happen next, the brain is a complex minefield that they still yet know little about. 

Daniel 

HI I am just going through the same - my mum is a little older and had a stroke first which she was given various medications including Clipdogrel which is a blood thinner, her tumor has grown 1cm in a month from one MRI scan to the next and the first thing we have been told to stop is her blood thinners, and not to give aspirin either. I believe this is because blood thinners make the tumor grow quicker.

My husband is about the same age of your father, as he left this world. I’m sorry~truly, I feel your loss. Your father sounds like a similar personality as my husband. We were medically evacuated to UK two weeks ago from a country in the a Middle East where we worked and lived. Long story, but during a round of ultimate frisbee with our daughters and friends my husband hit a tree. Which led to a concussion and stitches, to an MRI, to a brain tumor, to an emergency tumor removal surgery (in a 3rd world country), to me literally carrying his tumor to the local pathologist, to glioblastoma diagnosis, to his rapid decline, to an emergency air med evac to a UK for proper care. And I’m sitting in a foreign country for almost 2 weeks, watching my husband fight well I might add, to regain his walk, his talk, and thinking. He was a brilliant lawyer in the states for over 20 years, and he is fighting to read and compensate for losing his higher cognitive thinking and vision. So now, I’m trying to learn more about this evil GBM.  And as you know too well, quite overwhelmed as the shock of the last few weeks settle in. We have five daughters. And reading your story has pierced my heart, knowing from a son’s perspective. Thank you for sharing your dad’s life, humour, and fight! I’m confident he is proud of you and you will carry on his example too. I cannot imagine the pain, grief, and depth of loss you feel. There really aren’t adequate words. But thank you thank you for sharing his story.