@CuddleDuncan Glad to hear you, your mom, and sisters are doing well. Though, very sorry to hear about your dad's status.
I watched a fascinating, albeit tragic, documentary on PBS last week called N of 1, about Kayte Hollingsworth and her brave battle against a very rare liver cancer.
@CuddleDuncan Just wanted to say I’m thinking of you. You’ve been carrying so much, and it’s really moving how you keep showing up and sharing. Wishing you strength, comfort, and some moments of peace. Sending warm, comforting cuddles your way. 🫂
I’m honored at your vulnerability and sharing.
Edited for advertising outside of designated section of the forums for Pros [netrunner]
I wish you and your dad the best @CuddleDuncan. Continue to keep us updated.
Cancer sucks regardless of the type or stage. Don’t wish it on anyone.
Thanks for the update @CuddleDuncan
I developed neuropathy in my feet and finger tips as well after chemo. My oncologist says there’s a good chance it’ll go away in a year or so. I try to stay as hydrated as I can which seems to help. I have also been taking vitamins as well as gabapentin. I wear compression socks and do some stretching exercises daily for my feet. I also bought some memory foam Skechers. The neuropathy is very minor in my finger tips but horrible in my feet. All of the above seems to have helped a bit but the downside is that I’m a utility worker so a good 80% of my day is spent in the field and on my feet.
I had my routine 3 month checkup a couple of weeks ago and my cancer markers are the lowest they can possibly be. I’ll be having another colonoscopy around June. I didn’t have a pic line and developed a blood clot in my forearm at the chemo injection site. I am 3.5 months into a 6 month blood thinner regimen to break up the blood clot. The clot is much smaller now. The blood thinners make me feel ill most of the time though.
It’s taken a lot of mental toughness to muscle through all of this. I’m confidant that I’m going to be fine long term. My body absolutely is not the same but I’m working on it and trying my best to get better.
Hang in there Duncan, I’m always around if you need or want to chat.
Healing is what cuddling platonically is about.
Thank you again everybody for your kind thoughts and words, they are very much appreciated.
Regular readers will recall that my last season of chemo finished at the start of April. Well, it's taken me a long time to get over it and I'm barely there yet. It's been much harder than the first season of chemo last year, since of course I was starting from a lower base. The post-chemo scans showed that there were no new cancer sites (whew) and that the one known tumour on the liver had - ta-da! - got bigger. In other words that whole season of chemo was a waste of time and we should have gone straight to surgery. Oh the joys of hindsight. Anyway, I laughed out loud when I realised: if four months of completely pointless misery isn't funny I don't know what is.
Although recovery was slow and hard I was determined to get away and I've managed two trips, firstly to Sharm-el-Sheikh on the Red Sea. I was really too unwell for that and only left the room a couple of times, but it had a nice balcony and just being trapped in a different room was a nice change. Then a few days in the countryside outside London, complete with many rhododendron flowers: I am partial to a rhododendron, flowers or not, and they are magnificent at this time of year.
I came back to all the various preparatory appointments and my surgery is on Tuesday (3rd). Resection of the liver to remove the secondary tumour. They will remove a whole lobe of the liver, and probably my gall bladder as well. Six hours or so under the knife. Mortality rate 2%-3%. The liver is big and resiliant so it will survive just fine. Last I heard it wasn't going to be keyhole surgery, so I will have a decent scar which is something. It's in a different hospital but like the last operation I will wake up in ICU and stay there for the first day or two, then onto the ward. I should be in hospital for about a week, then I will go my sister's. Recovery from any major operation is about six weeks, till you're back at anything approaching normal energy levels.
The general idea is that this operation will complete a year of treatment and leave me nominally cancer-free. There is however a significant risk of the cancer reappearing: apparently 80% of problems appear in the first year. Looking at the stats it seems that if you make it to four years from diagnosis (i.e. three from now) you should be in the clear, so it won't be hanging over me for ever. They follow up for seven years to be on the safe side. This is good because the odds of some other completely different cancer turning up are quite high, given my family history. (5/5 of us have had cancer.)
In ancillary news, my dad has had his cancer prodecures and they have gone well, so we're hoping his health will improve over the next few months. It remains to be seen what the long term implications will be - he is definitely not 'cured'.
Meanwhile my lovely flatmate's dad has died while visiting family in Kenya, and so she has gone over there for the funeral. Not ideal timing from my point of view.
The moving house plan is still on the cards for the autumn. I'm not going to attempt anything resembling going back to work until the new year.
I've been somewhat low over the last few months simply due to the effects of the chemo, but that's wearing off now. My underlying spirits have always been excellent and remain so. Other than moving house, my plans for the next few months include a holiday in the Scottish Highlands; celebration dinners for my birthday and my parents' Diamond Jubilee wedding anniversay (60 years married .... "It just feels longer"); and a trip to Japan to see my other sister, who lives there.
TL:DR I'm still not dead, which I appreciate may disappoint one or two of my most ardent readers. Sorry about that. Still, fingers crossed for Tuesday, eh lads? 😆
Wow, just wow. I couldn't help but cry. Thank you for your honesty, bravery to share and showing your vulnerability. Wishing both of you the best possible outcome. Sending you warm, loving hugs and hoping they find you in your "down moments". I'll be thinking of you...now that I am aware. (Just read this thread). 🥰
I haven't got the energy for a proper post but I've had the big surgery with half my liver and the tumour taken out, and it all went well. Now resting at my sister's and recovering according to plan. All is well.
@CuddleDuncan @Morpheus My thoughts and prayers 🙏 are with you.. Each new day is a blessing and a gift.. 💝 Sending you virtual hugs 🤗 and positive vibes.. 🌈 😊 Stay Positive and Strong! 💪 You’ve got this! 🙌
Just show cancer who is the boss. It is telling you how it is but you can do better than it can. I've seen you being resourceful and taking charge here. So apply it with that pesky nuasance and the battle is yours to win.
I had my 6 month post chemo CT scan on Friday. I was really nervous because the results seemed to take forever. They finally came back yesterday clean showing no signs of cancer. My last day of chemo was December 13th, 2024 so I’m just past 6 months. I was diagnosed right around this time last year so around a year since my diagnosis. I have blood work coming up and I see my oncologist on June 27th. I have a colonoscopy on July 11th. I’m very optimistic that I’m gonna be fine. I’ve been doing my best to eat healthier. I haven’t drank alcohol since July 21st, 2024 so I’m coming up on 11 Months sober. I still have neuropathy in my finger tips and my feet but eating healthy, staying hydrated and sleeping well really seems to help alleviate the pain. I’ve also been doing acupuncture to treat my neuropathy. I’m still on the fence whether it actually works or not. I’ve completed the 6 month cycle of blood thinners that I was taking for my blood clot. I feel like I’m on the mend, definitely not back to normal but I’m trying my best.
@Morpheus sounds like you are doing a brilliant job, well done. My neuropathy sounds a bit like yours, but not as bad. It my fingers it's almost trivial. In my feet it's annoying and the lack of sensitivity means I have to be careful in whatever I'm doing, but it's not a big deal. If I have to live with it forever I'll manage. It's getting milder but I'm not sure how much of that is just because it's summer. We'll see come Christmas.
So, my operation. 9 hour surgery with complete removal of the gall bladder (they always whip it out when doing this kind of thing), removal of 'half' my liver, and removal of a chunk of diaphragm which was adjacent to the tumour.
Loss of gall bladder doesn't seem to matter very much. The liver has two big lobes which are nominally half each, but in my case the tumour was nicely placed in the middle of the smaller one. They remove the whole lobe to be safe. My liver coped very well, and liver function was restored to virtually normal within a very few days. Unusually amongst human body parts the liver does regenerate, so a good bit should grow back. The diaphragm thing was a 'better safe than sorry' job, and also doesn't seem to be a big deal except it's given me quite a lot of pain, and still does when I try to yawn or sneeze or anything.
They gave me [at least] one unit of blood during the op, and two more the next day which were more precautionary than emergency. Many years ago I was a regular blood donor and I only stopped because they didn't want it any more, following my trips to too many dodgy countries.
I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit as planned, full of tubes. There was a fair amount of pain - and a lot under certain conditions - until I got onto a double ration of Tramadol. I was there for a couple of days before being moved to the ward. I had asked very, very nicely if there was any chance of a side room in the ward, very much in hope not expectation, but they gave me one. It made a huge difference and got me out of hospital in just under a week, which clearly impressed the surgeon. I pushed to be let home, to which he agreed.
My last big op in December was keyhole surgery with a robot, but this one was the old fashioned way and there is a big L-shaped scar on my tummy. It was stapled shut, not stitched, and they made a very nice job of it. Staples came out after a fortnight. And yes they do look just like staples, except they didn't fold round at the back. Recovery has been generally easier than the last surgery, but noticeably slower.
I am now back home and other than being very tired, and becoming exhausted by the slightest effort, I'm in reasonable shape. I stayed with my sister, her husband and my two teenage neices for the first fortnight: I didn't need much looking after, but I did need some and they did it very well. It was almost a very lovely holiday and I'm extremely grateful.
My superficial spirits are rather low, just because I've been so unwell for such a long time. A lot of it is just boredom and frustration because I can't do anything. I'm full of plans, ideas and fantasies but it will be six months before I'm back to full physical health and of course I still have all the mental health problems - sorry opportunities - to live with. And as I've mentioned before, stage 4 cancer is easy as pie compared to that.
In the last 15 months I've had one emergency hospital admission for a serious bladder infection (which in the days before antibiotics might well have killed me), two seasons of chemotherapy (12 rounds) and two major operations removing one organ and parts of four others. But the cancer has, as far as we know, been completely removed and that definitely would have killed me. The primary tumour in the colon was originally about 7.5cm (3 inches) across and the secondary on the liver 5.5cm (2 inches) when it came out. Given those sizes it's astonishing there weren't more.
The overall risk of recurrence is about 2/3, or slightly less since I'm relatively young and fit and don't have serious comorbidities like other kinds of cancer or heart disease. We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Most of the problems arise in the first year, which is helpful. My gut feel is that the cancer has indeed been disposed of. Almost immediately after I woke up from the operation I felt a lightness and thought, "Oh it's gone". Statistically speaking my chance of surviving this has gone from 9% on diagnosis to something like 50% or even better.
I have an appointment in a couple of weeks when I will presumably find out what the plan is. I don't mind endless scans but I'm not sure I could cope with another season of chemo just yet.
Here is how things looked about ten days after the operation. It's more interesting than disgusting but still, be cautious if you're squeamish. Some of the red marks are keyholes from the last surgery, some are rather mysterious but arose in connection with this one: none are significant, it's only the big L that matters. The dressing covered a hole for a drain to get excess fluid out of my abdomen, which as you can see was very swollen. Eveything is greatly improved now and healing nicely.
It was about 75 staples, and as you can see from the curve the incision appears to have been done in one big smooth cut.
Everybody at the hospital was absolutely brilliant, just what you hope for in circumstances like that, and I was very fortunate to have a visitor every day once I was well enough. And that is largely thanks to the cuddle world.
I write these posts partly because I think the world is much too secretive about medical matters in general and cancer in particular. I don't see what the benefit of that secrecy is, (and I've seen the harm it can do) and I'm happy to tell anybody anything they want to know. If you have questions, ask away.
@CuddleDuncan I completely agree with your last statement. I share as much about my experience as possible. I don’t do it to draw attention to myself but to spread awareness. I’m glad things went well. Please stay on top of it and don’t miss your follow up visits. My oncologist told me it would be every three months in the first year and every four months in the second year. Of course so long as everything is good. Thank you for sharing your story and for staying strong through it all.
I just had a colonoscopy yesterday. Even though my recent CT scan and bloodwork were good, I was still expecting for them to at the very least find a polyup. There was not a one though. So 1 year after my diagnosis and 6 more the post chemo, I am still all good.
Not a one! Excellent news!
@CuddleDuncan I am truly sorry to hear what is going on with you. If you need someone to talk with I would love to chat. I know what you are going through. Don’t ever forget that you are here for a purpose and someone out there needs cuddles from you.
I was going to make a new thread but decided to just comment here and keep this thread going
Here’s my timeline:
In June 2024, I was diagnosed with Colon Cancer. On 7/21/2024, I quit drinking. On 7/31/2024, I had surgery to remove the tumor. Shortly after, it was determined that my cancer had spread into my lymph nodes and I would need chemo. On 9/20/2024, I started Chemo. On 12/13/2024, I rang the bell and finished chemo.
I had my 1 year Doctor checkup yesterday and As of today, 9/27/2025, I am 434 days sober, I am in remission, all of my labs including my blood count, lipid panel and AlC are within normal range. Also and most importantly, my liver function has returned to normal.
Through all of this, I have continued to work and take care of my family. As far as how I feel, I’m not back to baseline. I still get tired easily. My neuropathy has improved but it’s still troublesome. Every time something new hurts, I freak out and think my cancer is back.
All that being said, I’m still here 👻
Great overall news @Morpheus I can understand your fears but I think you will stay positive and enjoy each day. None of us ever knows, so best not to take anything for granted.
@g_w_t_w
Thank you
That is brilliant news, @Morpheus, well done. Very well done. Sounds like the news couldn't realistically be better. I've been reading up and it really does take a very long time to get over chemo.
As positive as x^2, where x is > 0 and connected to an anode.
@safensecure4u2 that's very kind, thank you. I am fortunate in having friends and family to talk to, many of whom are from the cuddle world. It really does help, at least for me. This thread has really helped too, thanks to the folks like you.
I went to donate platelets at the Red Cross today and I was denied. They told me it has to be a year since I completed treated so I have to wait until after December 12th 🙁
I've just completed my first round of follow-up scans: two CT, two MRI, one PET and a colonoscopy. The colonoscopy was clear, which is excellent news since that was the site of the original tumour. The others showed no tumours either, but they did find a number of things to be concerned about. Next set of scans will be in 8-12 weeks, which to be fair was expected anyway.
I'm very exhausted at the moment and unable to do anything at all, which is fine fuel for the depression and I'm pretty low. It is nice having normal poops though, for the first time in 19 years.
Meanwhile, my elderly father was diagnosed with liver cancer about a year ago. He had a new kind of radiotherapy treatment, which doesn't seem to have worked. A few weeks ago he fell in the street and broke his hip (actually the very top of the femur, which is often the bit that's broken when people talk about a broken hip) and while in hospital he nearly died of a mysterious infection, possibly ecoli. He was left with impossibly low blood pressure which meant he couldn't stand up, which meant he couldn't do the physio for his hip. Not that it really mattered: in the midst of all that he was diagnosed with colon cancer (just like me) which was a new cancer and not a secondary from the liver. He declined chemo and operations - he's 85 - and went home to die quietly.
Going home, of course, helped enormously. The low blood pressure thing seems to have passed, the cancers don't actually bother him that much outside of the bathroom, and he has persuaded the doctor to prescribe both wine and whisky. I haven't been able to visit for a couple of weeks but apparently he beetles around the house without assistance and is champing to get outside: he's hatching a plan to do so with his friend while my mum is at church. In other words, after a very tricky few weeks he's as happy as you can be under the circumstances. All being well, one cancer or the other will carry him off sometime next year. I am very keen to go for Christmas, but I don't think I'm going to be well enough.
@Morpheus I used to give blood, a long time ago. But then I visited too many dubious countries and they wouldn't take it any more. It was nice, when I had the blood transfusions after my operation in June, to know that I'd contributed to the system that kept me alive.
@CuddleDuncan why are you feeling exhausted? I don’t think you’re currently going through chemo or radiation, right? If not, when was your last round? I completed chemo on 12/12/2024 so almost a year and I’m still not feeling back to baseline. I get tired and work down easily.
I’m glad there are no signs of tumors. I hope you continue to stay cancer free. Please continue to keep us updated.
@CuddleDuncan @Morpheus Just came across this thread in 12/2025.
(Edited because I just got caught up) I’m glad you are both doing so well!! Sending good vibes💜
@CuddleDuncan I was staring down the barrel of my own cancer diagnosis four years ago, preparing for (my first ever) surgery New Year’s Eve. I remember the surgery prep and the nurses marking me for a colostomy bag, just in case they found the cancer invading my colon. (Thankfully, they did not.) I know there are a lot of “ifs” in your life right now and I’m glad you are surrounded by support! From one warrior to another, you’ve got this. Remember to request that chemo cocktail with a lime wedge and a tiny umbrella!
@CuddleDuncan you're really brave, wish you all the best
@CuddleDuncan @Morpheus thank you for sharing your stories. You are both an inspiration! I’ve never posted here but your comments about spreading awareness have prompted me to add my experience.
I was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer in October.
So ladies - this is your reminder to do regular breast self checks! I found my tumor, not through regular checks (learn from my mistake here), but because I noticed a bruise. At that point, the lump was quite large and had likely already spread to my lymph nodes and maybe to the spots on my spine. I don’t play the shoulda, woulda, coulda game. I’m just saying that the earlier you catch a lump, the less time it has to spread. So I do hope someone can learn from my experience. Mind you, I had a “clean” mammogram in March. So those annual screens are not enough.
Here’s another thing to watch for as you age (I’m 54). I had been complaining about my breasts getting bigger for months before being diagnosed but I chalked it up to hormones and perimenopause. Turns out it was just one breast getting bigger but I hadn’t noticed that.
Again, if I can pass along any wisdom, it is to investigate anything that feels off and don’t just shrug it off and blame hormones or whatever. Be curious about any changes to your body and investigate!
I’m currently on hormone therapy and a CDK4/6 inhibitor (my cancer is HR+ HER2-). I’ve noticed the lump on my breast has shrunk so I am cautiously optimistic.
I’m here to spread awareness, so if you have any questions, please ask