Advanced Colorectal Cancer with Liver and Multiple Peritoneal Metastases: Achieving "Clinical No Evidence of Disease" After Surgery Following 8 Chemotherapy Cycles | Patient Story

This is my true story of accompanying my mother through advanced colorectal cancer. In March 2025, my mother was diagnosed with advanced colorectal cancer, accompanied by multiple metastases to the liver, lungs, and peritoneum. Over the next six months, we traveled from hospital to hospital, hearing too many "terminal" and "no chance" verdicts, and enduring countless tearful nights. Yet, from beginning to end, I held only one thought: to keep my mother alive. Fortunately, we did not stop in despair, and finally found a turning point at The Sixth Affiliated Hospital of Sun Yat-sen University.

Author | Gu Ran
Editor | Chan Chan
Reviewer | Guang Guang

「 I. Annual Check-ups, Yet Diagnosed with Advanced Colorectal Cancer and Liver Metastases 」

In March 2025, the evening breeze carried the chill of early spring, blowing through the city streets and into my once-peaceful life.

On Friday, March 21, I had just finished a week of classes and was planning the weekend with classmates. Everything seemed ordinary. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up with a WeChat message from my father: "Your mom's test results are out." That day, through his fragmented, choked descriptions, I was caught off guard by the news of my mother's cancer. This cruel word, which I had only seen in movies and novels, had unexpectedly fallen upon my family.

「 My mother before her illness 」

I repeatedly tried to reassure myself: "It's fine, it must be fine." My mother has always been health-conscious, getting regular annual check-ups. Last year's report clearly stated "everything normal." Even if it were cancer, it would surely be early-stage. As long as I urged her to follow up properly, it could be controlled. Before I could convince myself, my father sent another message: "It's already advanced colorectal cancer, and it has spread to the liver."

「 The WeChat message my father sent me 」

In that moment, my legs went weak, all my strength drained away, and my mind went completely blank. I lost the ability to think. Looking back, I can't remember how many tears I shed that night, as I rarely cry. I only clearly remember one thought circling in my mind, firm and unwavering: I must keep my mother alive.

Sleepless, I cried while frantically searching for information. I am grateful for this digital age, and for the countless doctors and patients willing to share their knowledge and experiences, which allowed me to grope for hope in the dark. Obscure medical terms like "primary tumor," "metastatic lesions," "conversion therapy," and "palliative surgery" were like scattered puzzle pieces. I stayed up late, studying them word by word, and finally pieced together a conclusion that gave me just enough strength to carry on: "Colorectal cancer with liver metastasis is not hopeless. If surgery can remove the lesions, there is still a chance for a cure."

Early the next morning, I booked the earliest flight back to Dalian, rushing to the local hospital with this pieced-together hope. However, the attending doctor's words struck me like a blow: "There are too many metastatic lesions in the liver; surgery is no longer an option. The surgery scheduled for Monday can only be palliative resection to remove the primary intestinal tumor and improve quality of life."

I could not accept this result, and I knew clearly that if we proceeded with this surgery on Monday, chemotherapy would be delayed. The liver tumors would not be effectively controlled and would progress faster. I immediately consulted a Beijing-based oncology expert online, whose reply confirmed my thoughts: "The patient's condition is indeed complex, but surgery is not entirely out of the question. We can start with chemotherapy first, aiming to convert unresectable lesions into resectable ones, and then reassess the surgical plan." This reply solidified my decision to leave Dalian. On Sunday, I took my mother on a train northward.

「 II. Seeking Medical Help in Beijing: Confirming Multiple Peritoneal and Lung Metastases 」

The journey to seek medical help in Beijing was far more difficult than I imagined. The diagnostic methods here were more precise, but they also revealed that my mother's condition was much more severe than expected: her tumor marker (CEA) was as high as 12,500 ng/ml, while the normal range is only 0-5 ng/ml—over 2,000 times higher. Worse still, there were more than 10 liver metastases, with the largest measuring 6 cm in diameter, accompanied by peritoneal metastasis, retroperitoneal lymph node metastasis, and lung metastasis.

On that thick medical report, lines of text like "thickened sigmoid colon wall, consistent with colon cancer (cT4aN2M1)," "multiple enlarged lymph nodes in the paracolic, inferior mesenteric artery/vein regions, and retroperitoneum, suspected metastasis," and "slightly thickened peritoneum with nodules at the omentum and peritoneal reflection, suspected peritoneal metastasis" felt like heavy chains, trapping me tightly.

「 Medical Report 」

Such a massive tumor burden led to disagreements among doctors regarding the treatment plan. Some believed the disease was too advanced for surgery to be beneficial, recommending a two-drug maintenance regimen to maximize tumor control time while avoiding severe side effects from aggressive treatment. Others felt my mother was still relatively young and in good physical condition, making her a candidate for aggressive conversion therapy to strive for a chance at surgical resection.

I began studying peritoneal metastasis. At this point, I truly want to thank the "Panda Group." It was there that I first learned that peritoneal metastasis from colorectal cancer does not mean passively waiting; there is a treatment called CRS+HIPEC (Cytoreductive Surgery + Hyperthermic Intraperitoneal Chemotherapy) that can effectively prolong survival. However, CRS surgery is highly complex and technically demanding, with very few doctors nationwide willing and able to perform it.

「 III. Guidance from the Panda Group: A Strong Three-Drug Targeted Regimen 」

To find the best solution, I took my mother's medical records and began a long journey. From Beijing's Cancer Hospital, Peking University Cancer Hospital, and Shijitan Hospital, to Shanghai's Changzheng Hospital, Fudan University Shanghai Cancer Center, and Zhongshan Hospital, and Guangzhou's Sun Yat-sen University Cancer Center and The Sixth Affiliated Hospital of Sun Yat-sen University, I visited major cancer hospitals across the country and consulted renowned experts like Shen Lin and Chen Gong. Yet, most feedback was discouraging.

Just as I was hitting walls everywhere and nearly giving up, a group member named Wang Guzhi from the Panda Group privately messaged me to ask about my mother's condition. I poured out my dilemma: "Many doctors I've consulted are quite pessimistic, advising against such an aggressive regimen. But my mom is still young, and I want to fight for her." She immediately replied: "The Sixth Affiliated Hospital is quite proactive in treatment. Last time, I helped a patient with a high PCI (Peritoneal Cancer Index) score consult Professor Wang in surgery, and he managed to remove the tumors very cleanly. I'll check for you tomorrow and also ask the medical oncology department's opinion." Based on her experience, she believed Professor Wang could handle this case, but surgery must be combined with systemic chemotherapy for the best outcome.

「 Group member Wang Guzhi helped me communicate 」

This timely help reignited my hope in the midst of despair. Later, Wang Guzhi helped me consult Dean Deng and Professor Wang Hui from the medical oncology department at The Sixth Affiliated Hospital. Just as she predicted, Dean Deng believed that an aggressive conversion therapy with a three-drug targeted regimen for 8 cycles could give us a chance to fight for surgery. Professor Wang Hui also told me: "Go ahead with the chemotherapy. I will perform the surgery later, and don't worry, we can remove it cleanly." These two consultations gave me peace of mind and solidified my decision to take my mother to Guangzhou.

「 IV. Highly Sensitive to 8 Chemotherapy Cycles, Joyfully Gaining a Surgical Opportunity 」

The chemotherapy process was arduous and difficult. Hair loss, mouth ulcers, and bone marrow suppression came one after another. After each infusion, my mother would experience severe nausea, unable to eat and vomiting immediately if she tried. Mouth ulcers made even drinking water painful, and her once-black hair fell out in clumps, becoming thin within days. Yet, despite enduring such suffering, my mother never complained. She always smiled and comforted me: "It's okay, son. This hardship is nothing. As long as I get better, I can endure anything."

I am deeply grateful for my mother's optimism; her mindset was even healthier than mine. Between chemotherapy sessions, she would actively chat with fellow patients, encouraging each other. When she felt a bit better, she would take walks in the hospital garden, breathe fresh air, and joke with the nurses, infecting everyone around her with her positivity.

「 My optimistic mother in the ward 」

My father provided the most solid support with his meticulous care. To ensure my mother got enough nutrition, he woke up early every day to buy the freshest ingredients at the market, cooking her favorite meals in various ways. Thanks to his careful care, my mother's nutrition was well-maintained. During chemotherapy, her weight did not drop but actually increased by a few pounds, earning praise from the doctors for excellent nutritional support.

Watching my mother's condition improve day by day and her tumor markers steadily decline, our family was filled with hope. Before chemotherapy on March 25, 2025, her CEA was 12,503 ng/ml, CA125 was 62.4 ng/ml, and CA72-4 was 27.1 ng/ml, all far exceeding normal ranges. After completing 8 chemotherapy cycles on August 5, her CEA dropped to 12.12 ng/ml, and CA125 and CA72-4 returned to normal. The lung lesions had completely disappeared, and the liver metastases had significantly shrunk, with clear boundaries from surrounding major blood vessels, reaching a resectable state.

「 Tumor marker test results I compiled 」

「 V. Staged Surgery Achieves "Clinical No Evidence of Disease" 」

The Sixth Affiliated Hospital quickly organized an MDT (Multidisciplinary Team) discussion and evaluation. Considering my mother's high sensitivity to systemic drug therapy, and the significant shrinkage and reduction in the primary tumor, liver, peritoneal metastases, and retroperitoneal lymph nodes, they formulated a staged surgical plan: first, laparoscopic resection of the liver metastases, followed by a 2-3 week recovery period, and then resection of the primary colon tumor + CRS for peritoneal tumors + HIPEC. The doctors explained that compared to a highly traumatic simultaneous combined resection, staged surgery offers better patient tolerance, faster recovery, better preparation for the second surgery, and better coordination with subsequent consolidation therapy.

On August 18, Director Pan Weidong from the Pancreatic and Hepatobiliary Surgery Department performed laparoscopic liver metastasis resection for my mother. On September 12, Director Wang Hui from the Colorectal Surgery Department performed the primary colon tumor resection + peritoneal CRS. The two surgeries lasted over ten hours in total. Every moment waiting outside the operating room felt like a century. My father and I sat on the corridor bench, praying silently, feeling both nervous and hopeful. Only when the doctor walked out and told us "the surgery was successful" did our suspended hearts finally settle.

The postoperative pathology report showed: among the 18 lymph nodes from group 253 removed during surgery, none showed cancer. The removed greater omentum and bilateral ovaries also showed no cancer involvement. The pathological stage was ypT3N0M1, achieving complete clearance of the primary tumor and distant multi-organ metastases. In subsequent follow-ups, my mother's blood ctDNA test was also negative, further confirming the treatment's effectiveness at the molecular level and indicating a good prognosis.

「 Postoperative pathology report 」

The moment I read the pathology report, I could no longer control my emotions, and tears streamed down my face. This time, they were tears of joy and gratitude. I could finally tell myself with peace of mind that the path I took for my mother was the right one.

「 VI. Grateful for All the Help, Passing on "Hope" 」

This medical journey across Dalian, Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou not only saved my mother's life but also completely transformed our family.

Before her illness, my mother was a decisive and capable career woman. She dedicated most of her time and energy to work, often working overtime, leaving little time for family. Back then, due to trivial work matters or life disagreements, our family occasionally argued, and the atmosphere was not always harmonious.

After her illness, everything changed. Our family's focus became highly aligned: to do everything possible to treat my mother and create a better living environment for her. The family atmosphere became much more harmonious. Past conflicts and arguments seemed insignificant in the face of life's trials.

Today, my mother has learned to slow down and enjoy life among flowers, plants, and the warmth of daily routines. My father, usually a man of few words, has expressed his deepest love through day-after-day meticulous care. As for myself, this ordeal has stripped away my restlessness, teaching me empathy and cherishing, and helping me understand the preciousness of family sitting together under warm lights.

「 Family celebrating my mother's birthday together 」

Beyond being grateful for my family's unwavering support and courage, I also want to formally thank Professor Wang Hui and every member of his team on this occasion. You brought light into our darkness, using your exceptional medical skills and fearless dedication to carve a path to life for my mother. As I learned more about peritoneal metastasis, I realized your contributions to helping these patients and tackling this medical challenge far exceeded my imagination. You gave hope to peritoneal cancer patients turned away by other hospitals, showing them that peritoneal metastasis is not a death sentence, and that active treatment can lead to long-term survival. I hope that under your leadership, more hospitals will adopt a proactive treatment approach for peritoneal cancer patients, giving more desperate patients a chance at rebirth.

I also want to thank the Panda Group, an organization full of love and strength. Here, I learned easy-to-understand disease knowledge and met patients from all over the country. Everyone shared their treatment experiences, medication reactions, and nursing tips without reservation. When someone faced difficulties, many would step up to offer advice; when someone felt down, countless warm encouragements would follow. Our smooth early treatment would not have been possible without the selfless help of group members. I am especially grateful to the volunteer teachers who silently contribute, cheering us on and answering questions daily, using their strength to shelter patients. Thank you so much for your help! Thank you!

「 VII. A Small Suggestion: Choose a Doctor Who Gives You Hope and Treats Actively 」

Looking back on this medical journey spanning thousands of miles, what still weighs heavily on me are two equally heavy blows at different stages.

The first was at the beginning of my mother's illness. Knowing nothing about colorectal cancer, I consulted a top expert at Beijing Cancer Hospital, only to receive the conclusion: "It has entered the terminal stage, there is no chance for surgery, only maintenance therapy." The second was after I studied peritoneal metastasis and felt a glimmer of hope. I took all the records to consult Professor Chen Gong at Sun Yat-sen University Cancer Center, only to receive another pessimistic prediction: "The metastasis is too severe, surgery is not recommended, the life expectancy is probably only one to two years."

The drop from full hope to utter despair still gives me chills when I think about it. Yet, it was this very experience that taught me a lesson I most want to share with all patients and families: do not blindly trust or follow a single doctor's conclusion. If you truly want to seek a glimmer of hope, especially in the early stages of illness, you must find a doctor who is willing to give you hope and treat actively. If a doctor gives a pessimistic diagnosis like "no surgical chance" from the start, do not hesitate to change your attending physician. Give yourself and your family another chance to fight. Of course, this only applies to the early stages. In the later stages of disease progression, everyone has their own considerations and choices, and all decisions deserve respect.

May every cancer patient trapped in despair hold onto hope and find a suitable treatment plan. May every family on this medical journey encounter skilled doctors and gain strength. May all those who rush about eventually return to daily life, enjoying peace, joy, and health year after year.

To protect patient privacy, names used in this article are pseudonyms. Images containing patient portraits have been authorized by the patient and may not be used without permission.