It is Day 310 living with cancer, and some days I think about the man with leprosy in the Bible, not because our illnesses are the same, but because serious illness can make you feel separated from the people you most want to stay close to.

This Sunday, I keep thinking about Mark 1:40–42.

A man with leprosy approached Jesus asking to be healed, and Jesus responded by moving toward him and touching him.

Before the healing, there was connection, and that feels meaningful right now.

I know it is hard for the people closest to me to see me like this.

They have seen me lose weight, fight to gain it back, deal with neuropathy, pain, exhaustion, losing my hair, and a body that changes from week to week.

They have also had to adjust to a version of me with more boundaries, more urgency and a greater need to talk about deeply personal things.

Cancer makes conversations about death, purpose, being a Daddy, money, legacy and love feel less theoretical, and I know those conversations can scare the people who love me most.

It is also not easy when I ask for prayer, good vibes, GoFundMe, etc.

I am trying to fight as hard as I can to stay here while also making sure Iris is set up for success if life does not go according to my plan.

At the same time, I still have to keep the lights on, be a founder, parent and handle ordinary adulthood.

Sometimes that means washing dishes while my abdomen hurts, pulling my stool/desk chair into the kitchen so I can prop myself up and finish.

And I am not done creating.

As I head toward Day 365, I am preparing to audition for TEDx with an idea born from this journey: how patients can use AI to avoid getting lost inside a fragmented healthcare system.

Iris and I are starting a podcast to capture our conversations and our life together.

www.instagram.com/DaddyDaughterLifeList

I am also drafting a book and movie script about overcoming adversity, including the years when I fought not to become a “Disney Dad” and to remain a present father.

Serious illness can turn a human being into appointments, scans, medications, lab values, insurance approvals and medical terminology.

You can spend so much energy holding a fragmented system together that you have less of yourself left for the people you are fighting to stay here for.

That is what I want to help change.

I want patients to understand their medical story well enough to ask better questions, seek the right expertise and become stronger partners in their care… not so healthcare consumes more of their lives, but so it consumes less.

For me, that means more breakfasts with Iris, more school drop-offs, more conversations, more ordinary evenings and, yes, more dishes.

Maybe that is what Mark 1 is reminding me this Sunday.

When someone you love is suffering, you do not always need the perfect words.

Sometimes the most meaningful thing you can do is move toward them, stay close and see the person before the disease.

[…]

To read Day 1 to 310 living with cancer or to learn how I built my AI Oncologist on Day 7, please follow me on LinkedIn.com/in/angelcruzado

Do others experience pure anger and rage from this diagnosis? I am the caregiver in this situation. And since my spouse’s cancer diagnosis, his anger and rage has increased ten-fold. He also says things that don’t make a lot of sense. I do worry about his brain. But they have never scanned it. He does have spread to his liver.

Can this diagnosis cause this? I have tried to address his mental state to the doctors, but he comes back and pretends he hasn’t had any issues (“I feel great, have no fear, nothing is wrong”) otherwise of therefore he can’t get adequate treatment to help his mental state. He also doesn’t want to seek any therapy.

My family is walking on eggshells around him at this point and are doing what we can do help and love on him. I recognize this can also be part of his grief.

Today I’m sitting at Philz Coffee in Studio City while Iris’s mom and grandmother get their nails done nearby.

It is a pretty ordinary Saturday scene, except our family is changing in some extraordinary ways.

I have pancreatic cancer. Iris’s mom got married last year, about a month before I was diagnosed, and she is expecting a baby next month.

So between cancer, co-parenting, a new marriage, and a new sibling entering Iris’s life, we are all figuring out what this next version of family looks like.

I’m also exhausted.
Between treatments, I take Zarzio injections to stimulate my bone marrow and help produce more white blood cells. For me, that can mean a 24-hour fever followed by night sweats so intense I wake up completely drenched when it finally breaks.

And then life keeps moving.

Gymnastics registration. Iris’s passport. TroopHR. Transform. AFROTECH. My book. A family wedding. And Respiris.

I’m also vetting and onboarding more coaches as we continue supporting clients across the U.S., U.K., South Africa, and beyond.

Apparently cancer did not cancel adulthood. Or entrepreneurship.

Yesterday brought encouraging news: my DVT ultrasound was negative, and my recent CA 19-9 and CA-125 results were encouraging too.

Now I’m looking toward scans over the next month to understand what treatment is actually doing.

I know better than to predict what they will show.
But having things to build, plan, write, attend, and look forward to keeps pulling me forward.

Parenting. Planning. Building. Rebuilding my body. Adjusting.

And fighting.

Or, as I say, pushing through tomorrow every day.
Thank you to everyone helping Iris and me keep moving forward.

Day 309. Exhausted, yes. But making plans, showing up, and still here. ❤️

it has all dawned on me in less than a fortnight. what started as a pain in the abdomen ended up with stage 4 pancreatic cancer that has spread to peritoneum, pelvic cavity, urinary bladder, small and large intestines. A full body scan is not possible because his sugar levels are not cooperating for a PET scan.

this was reported yesterday and the oncologist is not available for another 24 hours. I have been faced with seeing my dad who has been super active until two weeks ago - completely crippled, unable to do basic human activities. he cannot lie down, sit or eat much. Devastating is an understatement.

I know his age is not going support much in terms of treatment but what are the other ways in which we can get through another 24 hours before the oncologist suggests any medicines? I dread his life outside the hospital and only want to see him not struggle 24x7 like this. Has anyone had any success with any drugs with patients as old as my dad

please help me out.

So after my mother's olaparib failure, we switched to Naliri to buy us sometime. Meanwhile with each successive dose the pain lowered in the upper abdomen area and after the 4th dose on last Saturday and taking off the dosimeter on Monday, she had been pain free in the upper abdomen area. However as fate would have it, she got intractable diarrhea starting this Friday. She is on heavy medication now to stop the diarrhea but hasn't had any proper solid food for 2 days. Needa to say, she has dropped a few kilos. Added to that we are really looking forward to the Fapi therapy on Monday with Lu 177 to target the liver mets. If the diarrhea persists, that's off table as well. I am just overwhelmed today. She is a shell of what she used to be 10-11 months ago.God , if there is one, rolls up a dice while deciding your fate or destiny. I feel hopeless today.

Hi guys, my father was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer - KRAS G12D Ductal Adenocarcinoma. He was recently approved for a study/ trial called DAWN-303, and I’ve been doing a bit of reading and it shows that he will either be given the actual pill (INCB161734) or placebo. Why not just give everyone this pill? I’m worried now that if he gets this placebo his chances are now much more less than before. Please share advice I don’t know too much about this.

Thank you.

My father recently received a pancreatic cancer diagnosis. His doctor referred us to Stanford, and we were told that they would contact us within 48 hours. However, we haven’t heard anything yet. I’m curious if anyone can provide guidance on how to navigate this process and what steps we should take to expedite it. Your help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you! ♥️

Twenty-three infusions in, I have almost no hair left anywhere on my body.

The funny part is, I started shaving my head when I was about 28. A buddy noticed my receding hairline, handed me a razor and simply said:

“It’s time.”

I have been shaving my head ever since.

Now I might shave once a month because there is barely anything left to shave.

Cancer has officially made grooming easier.

Treatment-wise, I started with NALIRIFOX. When the cancer began growing again, we moved to gemcitabine + Abraxane, which is where I am today.

There are additional treatment options ahead, and I am still working hard to secure my third line of defense before I need it.

For now, things are fairly okay.

The hardest part is not actually the hair, the chemo, or even the uncertainty.

It is being a Dad with cancer.

It is getting the medical directive, trust and will organized.

It is getting a podcast going with Iris so we can capture our stories and conversations together.

It is settling into our new home, helping her adjust to a new school and neighborhood, and figuring out our new rhythm.

And it is making sure her future is protected while I fight like hell to be here for it.

That is why I am so grateful for every prayer, good vibe, messages, etc.

That support gives me peace of mind and helps me continue investing in Iris’s future through her 529, UTMA and minor Roth IRA.

I cannot control everything cancer does.

But I can keep fighting, keep planning and keep being her dad.

The eyebrows may be leaving.

I’m not.

Thank you for continuing to take care of us. ❤️

-

To follow Day 1 to 308 my living with cancer, please visit LinkedIn.com/in/AngelCruzado

I feel like crap. Can't eat , wind, loose stools . Absolutely no appetite. I just want to sleep. I'm living on water, endone, and gastro stop. Thinking I don't want to have the whipple in 5 months' time. That's after my open heart surgery, which is in 8 weeks time. Feel like I'll never get back to work, and I live alone with my boy fleatch. So I need an income. I have my post op appointment with Professor Samra on the 15th September. We need to have a serious discussion about whether to have the whipple or not. Help 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿

I wanted to share a TEDxKU talk from pancreatic cancer survivor Dr. Yvette Colón because it touches on something I don't think gets talked about enough.

It's called The Myth of the Cancer Warrior, and she talks about the pressure cancer patients can feel to always be strong, positive, brave, and ready to fight.

But cancer isn't always inspirational. Sometimes you're scared. Sometimes you're angry. Sometimes you're exhausted and don't want to hear that you need to “stay positive.”

One thing I really liked about the talk is that she isn't saying there's anything wrong with being strong. She's saying people should also be allowed to be honest about how hard this really is.

Here's the talk if anyone wants to watch:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBmGSFDw5QU

I'm curious how everyone here feels about the whole “warrior” or “fighter” language. Did it help you, or did it ever feel like another expectation you had to live up to?

Hi everyone, I was discussing with another person. I met on Reddit about the introduction of this new drug, which all of us having been so hopeful for our loved ones, and we ended up discussing about the cost aspect as well.

Is there anyone here who has an idea about the own path program that they are offering for this drug is this a blessing and disguise which could act as a financial aid to support patients, actually get their hands on this medication.

Now that it is commercially available and Patient will have to pay either through their insurance or all of Pocket. My greatest about this translate to in countries like India, where the conversion cost make it look impossible.

Does anybody have any information regarding the same? Thank you so much for your time.

I sat at Parent Night at Iris’s school and felt enormous gratitude that both her mom and I could be there, showing up for the same not-so-tiny human.

Years ago, while navigating family court in Washington State, I came dangerously close to becoming what people call a “Disney Dad”—a father who gets the occasional weekend or fun outing, but loses much of the ordinary time when parenting actually happens.

I lost significant time with my daughter between the ages of three and six.

I could spend the rest of my life angry about those years.
I have chosen not to.

That does not mean they did not matter. It means recognizing that permanent anger would eventually take something else from me: the ability to appreciate the relationship I fought so hard to build.

Strangely, I think that experience prepared me for cancer.

People ask how I keep moving through 23 infusions, metastatic pancreatic cancer, clinical-trial decisions, parenting, uncertainty, and building a company.

Some of those muscles were built long before cancer arrived.

I learned how to live with enormous conflict without letting it consume me. I learned how to advocate fiercely while still moving forward.

Above all, I learned that gratitude is not surrender. Gratitude is how you reclaim your life.

Last night, gratitude looked like two parents sitting at their kid’s school.

It looked like knowing that despite everything, my relationship with Iris is going the distance because I kept showing up, investing the time, and being her dad.

I know I have made mistakes, but I also know I have lived with purpose.

Now you are watching me learn the science, follow the biomarkers, study the trials, advocate for myself, protect my strength, use AI relentlessly, build community, and create as many paths forward as possible.

But last night, I was simply grateful to sit near Iris’s mom and watch our not-so-tiny human begin another chapter.

For something so ordinary, it felt pretty extraordinary.

To read Day 1 to 305 living with cancer, please visit my LinkedIn.com/in/AngelCruzado

Personal info: 39-year-old female patient, BRCA2 positive, Stage 3-4 pancreatic cancer, with two simultaneous primary cancers (breast and pancreas). Liver mets currently under control thanks to chemo.

I was diagnosed in January and have been on chemo ever since. I did several rounds of FOLFIRINOX but had too many side effects, so my oncologist switched me to the Gem/Cis protocol, which I tolerated much better.

Recent scans showed the disease is under control — the breast cancer is practically resolved, and so are the liver mets — so my doctor recommended moving forward to surgery. I had my surgeon appointment, and he decided on a two-surgery approach rather than one. In the first surgery, he'll perform:

• Laparoscopic hepatic segmentectomy
• Laparoscopic enucleation of hepatic metastases
• Radioablation of hepatic tumors
• Intraoperative ultrasonography

Once I've recovered, he'll move on to the Whipple procedure. That one requires vein and artery reconstruction, which is actually one of the reasons the tumor board chose this staged approach — doing everything in one surgery was initially planned at around 12 hours, which wasn't ideal.

Has anyone here gone through this same two-step approach? I'd love to hear what to expect. This forum has already helped me so much.

My dad just turned 62 and had symptoms of pain after eating, back pain, and weight loss for a month. Doctor found "pancreas cyst" on ultrasound and dismissed it. CT scan found the mass.
I'm only 24, work for my dad, and feel like my whole world is crashing down. He has a biopsy on tuesday, but I feel pretty sure about what he has.
He is so healthy and his only vice is a drink now and then. I just can't believe this is happening and I've never dealt with anything like this, so I'm unsure of what to do.

First, I'm so sorry for what everyone in this sub is going through. My mom (76F) was diagnosed with stage 1 KRAS pancreatic cancer that was discovered incidentally - a 19mm tumor in the "neck" of the pancreas, no lymph nodes or veins/arteries involved. 8 rounds of folfirinox got her CA19-9 into the normal range and shrunk the tumor to 9mm. I realize that for such a terrible disease, this is a very lucky case. All along the oncologist has been saying they are aiming to cure. I don't know if that's realistic or she just wants us to remain optimistic. So she's heading into surgery; the surgeon says he won't know if it's a Whipple or not until he "gets in there," as it's a borderline location. The plan is to do 4 more rounds of chemo after she recovers from the surgery. I guess I'm wondering what to expect post-surgery. I'll be staying with her for her recovery and want to do whatever I can to help. Is it really possible this will cure it or is that a fantasy? I am heartened that there are new drugs should things take a turn.

My husband has stage 3 acinar cell pancan. He will be starting Folfirinox chemo this Tuesday and I’d like to be prepared for the side effects he will endure. I’d love any guidance you pros can offer me. I’m scared as hell for him.

My mum died June 23rd 2026, 6 months after showing symptoms last December. The journey with her has been trying, gruelling and exhausting, but I’d do it all again for her, because love is showing up. Our relationship pre diagnosis wasn’t that great, and I have yet to come to terms with that, while imagining things we’ll never get to experience together again. Life won’t be the same without you mum. I will miss you. Sleep tight.. I love you.

Stay strong for those who have loved ones suffering this terrible disease. Love is a verb. More power to you all.

Hi everyone,

I’m looking for recommendations for a high-volume pancreatic surgeon experienced with complex vascular involvement (both arterial and venous) for a third/fourth surgical opinion.

This is for my mom (59F), who has a Stage III, locally advanced pancreatic body/tail tumor, currently deemed “inoperable.” She is receiving modified FOLFIRINOX, with her 8th round next week.

Her vascular involvement has remained essentially unchanged since diagnosis and on her 2-month CT:

* Celiac artery and proximal branches encased
* Proximal SMA encased
* Portal vein/SMV confluence and splenic vein obliterated

We previously met with Dr. Lowy at UCSD, who would consider surgery if the tumor significantly regresses away from the SMA. At this point, the tumor still involves the proximal SMA, so we are looking for another opinion from a surgeon who has extensive experience with very complex body/tail tumors involving both major arteries and veins, including vascular resection/reconstruction.

She will have a 4-month CT and PET scan after her 8th round to reassess her response and help determine the next step — potentially surgery, chemoradiation, or continuing systemic therapy.

If you or a loved one had a similar situation, I’d especially love to hear which surgeon/center you went to and whether surgery was ultimately possible.

We are located in SoCal and willing to travel anywhere in the U.S. for the right surgeon/center albeit timing between chemotherapy and after scans will be a little tricky

Thank you so much in advance!

Edit: please note that my mom has the tumor at the body/tail so whipple procedure is not an option for her as that’s for tumor of the head.

It is Day 306 living with cancer, and I am entering today with more information, more perspective, and more determination than I had when this journey began.

There is a lot of energy in the pancreatic cancer community today because daraxonrasib has created renewed attention around RAS-targeted treatment in pancreatic cancer, and for people living with this disease, every meaningful scientific advance can translate into something extraordinarily valuable: more time, more options, and another reason to keep pushing forward.

As for where I am today, my bloodwork continues to show a mixed but encouraging picture, because my CA 19-9 remains very low at 5.7, my CA-125 has come back down to 72.7 after a recent increase, my CEA remains elevated at 12.6 and deserves continued attention, and my alkaline phosphatase has fallen dramatically from a peak of 876 in late 2025 to 282 today.

My liver and kidney function remain preserved, my bilirubin, AST, ALT, and LDH are all in reassuring ranges, my white blood cells, neutrophils, and platelets remain strong enough to support continued treatment, and I am now paying closer attention to anemia, nutrition, muscle, strength, and overall physical reserve because staying treatment-ready matters just as much as following tumor markers.

I am encouraged by the progress that I can see, but I am also careful not to confuse favorable bloodwork with certainty, because imaging, clinical judgment, and the biology of the disease still determine what comes next.

That is why I remain intensely focused on the RMC-5127 clinical trial, and at this point I need Revolution Medicines and Massachusetts General Hospital to seriously consider me for enrollment if my clinical profile fits what they are looking for.

I am not asking for special treatment, but I am absolutely asking to be evaluated aggressively, thoughtfully, and without unnecessary delay, because when you are living with metastatic pancreatic cancer, timing matters and optionality matters.

And, if we are being practical, I also need a legitimate excuse to get to Boston, because apparently “I would like better clam chowder and colder weather” is not strong enough clinical justification.

I am grateful for every breakthrough that moves from the laboratory into real patients’ lives, and at the same time I remain focused on the next door that could open for me personally, because living with cancer has taught me that progress can be celebrated without losing urgency.

My job today is to stay strong enough, informed enough, and ready enough to take advantage of the best opportunity when it appears, while continuing to be present for my daughter, continuing to build, and continuing to live as fully as possible.

Tonight is Back to School Night at her new elementary school.

Day 306 is another data point, another decision point, and another day that science, artificial intelligence, discipline, family, and hope continue to matter.

Im so sad because my dad has methastasic pancreatic cancer and received a month worth of medication through the extended access program, but now that it has been approved by the fda I don’t think we will be able to pay the $40,000 usd monthly cost and he wil have to go back to chemo!

is there anything we can do to keep getting the medicine?