On the Cancer Journey, I Learned to Make Choices: Escaping a Failed Surgery, Rejecting Overtreatment, and Entrusting My Life to Professional Doctors | Patient Story

On November 3, 2025, Tianyun's father underwent a rushed gallbladder cancer surgery. The relentless torment of post-operative complications pushed Tianyun to the brink of collapse. In the gaps between seeking medical care, she stumbled upon the "Panda Group" on social media. As a newcomer, her questions were scattered and disorganized. Her emotional complaints felt out of place in the group, and she often had to endure its blunt and strict communication style. However, it was not without members like "Little PhD" who continuously offered her gentleness and tolerance, providing goodwill and practical medical guidance, ultimately giving her the confidence to seek treatment across cities.

Now, Tianyun passes on the initial kindness she received to new group members. One person after another, one baton after another, an individual's path to self-rescue has woven into a dense network of mutual aid. Tianyun's story is a complete slice of this relay of goodwill.

Author丨Ma Lingshu
Editor丨Ma Lingshu
Reviewer丨Guang Guang

「 Part I: A Rushed Surgery After Diagnosis, Curative Intent Turns Palliative 」

In the autumn of 2025, Tianyun's father's skin gradually turned yellow, eventually reaching the point where "even his eyeballs were yellow." Learning of this from afar in Nanjing, Tianyun urged him to seek immediate hospital treatment.

At the hospital, while receiving treatment to lower his bilirubin, he underwent a series of tests. As results came in, the situation worsened, and the consulting hepatobiliary doctors spoke vaguely. "The doctor didn't directly say 'cancer,' but my mother had already guessed," Tianyun recalled.

He was soon transferred to the hepatobiliary surgery department of a large general hospital in Jinan. After a contrast CT and other tests, the doctor called the family to the office and gave a formal diagnosis: malignant tumor. The exact location wasn't clearly specified, vaguely attributed to the "bile duct or gallbladder." However, the doctor repeatedly reassured them, "It's not as serious as you imagine."

Tianyun felt uneasy. Her own online research showed that cancers in either the bile duct or gallbladder are considered "tough opponents," though she couldn't yet grasp just how tough.

As the eldest daughter, the decision-making burden fell on Tianyun. She took the imaging results to another hepatobiliary surgery department in Jinan. Both surgical teams gave the same conclusion: there was no better option but to prioritize surgery.

"At that time, we trusted the doctors too much and never thought to consult medical oncology," Tianyun said. The family knew nothing about standardized oncology pathways. "We thought, since it's cancer, we should just cut it out." Relying on instinctive trust in a top-tier hospital, they signed the consent form. Admitted in late October, the surgery took place on November 3.

On November 3, 2025, the surgery that would alter her father's fate began. Tianyun and her family waited outside, clinging to a sliver of hope. Mid-surgery, however, the doctors informed them the situation was far worse than expected. "It has widely metastasized and cannot be completely removed." The omentum, peritoneum, lymph nodes... cancer cells had "bloomed everywhere." The anticipated curative surgery became a palliative procedure, removing only a small portion of liver tissue and the gallbladder.

Post-surgery, the pathology report was extremely brief. When Tianyun asked the lead surgeon, he replied, "You came too late. If you had come half a year earlier, it wouldn't be like this."

What was the condition half a year ago? What should we do now? Where do we go next? Tianyun was left speechless. "Such an answer offered us no practical help."

For the first time, Tianyun truly realized that some "trust" comes with a heavy tuition fee.

「 Part II: First Encounter with the Panda Group, A Turning Point in Treatment 」

Over twenty days post-surgery, her father returned home with an abdominal drainage tube. Upon discharge, he was prescribed domestic lenvatinib. Soon after, however, he developed full-body jaundice again. At their most helpless moment, the lead surgeon was unreachable, and calls often went unanswered, leaving them to rely on other hospital staff for relayed messages.

During this perioperative recovery period, other hospitals refused admission, directing them back to the original surgical hospital. Eventually, through coordination, Tianyun's father was transferred to the interventional radiology department of another hospital. There, doctors urgently performed a second PTCD drainage. The daily drainage volume reached a staggering 2000-3000ml. Meanwhile, doctors strongly pushed for iodine-125 seed implantation therapy.

"We had no better options at the time, and the family was constantly worried," Tianyun said. Amidst this confusion, she discovered the Panda Hepatobiliary Group through patient shares on Douyin and Xiaohongshu.

"At first, I wondered if it was a commercial organization, but later realized most members were patients' families." The group's daily communication style is sharp, focusing strictly on treatment and rarely on emotions. As a newcomer in a fragile state, Tianyun was used to venting and sharing her burdens as the eldest daughter, her child's needs, and her father's suffering. Instead of gentle words, she faced direct pushback from members and admins. "Solve the problem, don't waste time chatting." They bluntly pointed out her questions lacked focus.

Once, without complete medical records, she complained late at night in the group about why doctors hadn't responded, drawing criticism from members.

"At first, I struggled to adapt to this communication style. I kept asking silly questions that felt important to me, but I didn't know how to ask properly, so I just asked randomly and got criticized." Yet, she persisted. "Because just reading the documents, I couldn't remember everything."

Overwhelmed by the group's vast educational materials, her mind went blank. But she didn't leave. Driven by intuition that this might be her only lifeline, she forced herself to calm down, study the group files, learn drainage tube care, identify bile colors, and understand standard treatment protocols.

When doctors again aggressively promoted seed therapy, Tianyun raised the question in the group. Members advised against it, recommending prioritizing systemic treatment instead. Another time, when doctors planned immediate radiotherapy and sacituzumab govitecan despite high bilirubin levels, Tianyun realized this aggressive approach was non-standard. She had already decided to "run."

It was a discharge that felt like an "escape." Within a single day, she completed admission and swiftly discharged, severing ties with that hospital. "Before, I was afraid to offend doctors or lose treatment options. Now, I have confidence. Knowledge is confidence."

「 Part III: Accompanying My Father South for Treatment 」

Leaving Jinan, where could they go? Tianyun had lived in Nanjing for over a decade and knew its medical resources well. She had insisted on bringing her father to Nanjing, but her family opposed it. "I have three siblings. Besides me in Nanjing, everyone else is in Jinan. They felt Jinan had more relatives to help out, while in Nanjing, I'd be alone."

During that period, arguments and sighs over the phone became routine. Everyone kept asking, "What do we do next?"

The pressure hit like a landslide. While her father was treated in Jinan, Tianyun's internal balance shifted. "I already had a plan in mind."

At that time, "Little PhD," a star member of the Panda Hepatobiliary Group, patiently soothed her frayed nerves, helped her organize her medical strategy, shared his own treatment journey, and recommended his attending physician. This planted the seed for bringing her father to Nanjing.

[ In the WeChat group chat, Little PhD recommends his attending physician to Tianyun ]

In early December 2025, amid heavy snow in Jinan, Tianyun accompanied her parents on the high-speed train south. On the day of departure, her second sister braved the snow alone to bring cash via subway. Though Tianyun ultimately didn't accept the money, she understood the complex emotions behind it: a mix of misunderstanding, inseparable family ties, and support.

Upon arriving in Nanjing, Tianyun first arranged for her father to receive anti-inflammatory and bilirubin-lowering treatment at a nearby private hospital as a necessary buffer after the long journey. After discharge, she took him to see Director Cheng. The long-tensed nerves of both father and daughter finally relaxed. "Director Cheng is very gentle. After all this time, we hadn't met a doctor with such a good attitude."

「 Part IV: Standardized Treatment Steadily Advances Amidst Setbacks 」

On January 4, 2026, her father was formally admitted to the Eastern Theater General Hospital. After a systematic evaluation of his physical indicators, he finally received an internationally standardized first-line treatment: gemcitabine + cisplatin (chemotherapy) and durvalumab (immunotherapy). To mitigate chemotherapy side effects, antiemetics were used prophylactically before the first session. That day, her father's reaction was surprisingly stable.

However, the real test came on Chinese New Year's Eve. In the early hours, her father unconsciously pulled out his PTCD drainage tube in his sleep, causing sudden, severe pain and drenching him in cold sweat. Nearby hospitals could only provide basic pain relief and couldn't handle the tube. It was New Year's Eve, and the interventional department at the general hospital was empty. Tianyun hesitated to disturb the doctor's holiday, but standard oral and intramuscular painkillers failed. Around 7 a.m., following Director Cheng's advice, she tentatively sent a WeChat message to Director Yang of the interventional department.

At 8 a.m., Director Yang called back. Despite the holiday, upon hearing the situation, he immediately rushed from home. Half an hour later, a new drainage tube was inserted, and the non-functional old one was removed.

"In that moment, I truly felt we came to the right place," Tianyun said. She experienced a sense of trust—"handing my back to the doctor"—that she had never felt before.

In the following months, her father's treatment settled into a steady rhythm. Given his tolerance, the chemotherapy regimen was adjusted to albumin-bound paclitaxel, combined with ongoing immunotherapy and targeted therapy.

After six cycles of combined therapy, tumor markers continued to drop, and her father's energy visibly improved. In April 2026, after evaluation by Director Yang, all drainage tubes were removed. His quality of life saw a qualitative leap.

During treatment, he experienced intermittent unexplained fevers and minor bilirubin fluctuations, but none disrupted the overall treatment pace. Until just before the latest session, he suddenly fell into a lethargic state. Initially thought to be a chemotherapy reaction, it was ultimately diagnosed as a cerebral infarction and Trousseau syndrome (a tumor-related coagulation disorder), forcing a pause in treatment for symptomatic support.

Even so, Tianyun's family never wavered in their resolve to continue treatment. "Since starting treatment here, my father refuses to go back to Jinan," Tianyun said. The clinical environment and doctor-patient communication here gave him unprecedented peace of mind.

「 Part V: Returning Family Responsibilities to the Family 」

Now, Tianyun has fully adapted to the rhythm of the "Panda Group." She is no longer the newcomer who only vented emotions. Having passed the hardest phase of seeking care, she actively shares her family's treatment experiences with those in need, catching others' confusion and anxiety just as Little PhD once did for her, passing on the kindness.

Sometimes in hospital corridors, she runs into group members coming for treatment. They gather in wards, discussing conditions, daily life, and even sharing simple meals. The hospital seems to have become a special hub. Stepping out of isolated spaces, the camaraderie born in desperation dissolves much of the heavy tension.

Over half a year has passed since that failed surgery. For a late-stage cancer patient, this is already "borrowed time." "Now I feel that as long as today is better than yesterday, it's the best," Tianyun said. She sometimes worries about her young child and her father's uncertain tomorrow, but she has learned to break down these anxieties into concrete problems and solve them one by one.

A multi-child family seems to have enough hands, but each has their own ties and commitments, making it hard to form a stable care network. Looking back at the past half-year, as the eldest daughter, Tianyun carried the burden for too long. Previously, she handled everything from her parents' and brother's household chores to her father's traffic tickets, and medical decisions naturally fell to her. Under prolonged stress, she learned to compartmentalize her emotions. Despair and thoughts of giving up crossed her mind, but remembering her young son and knowing no one else could maintain order if she collapsed, she forced herself to suppress those thoughts, like a taut string keeping the family from falling apart.

Fortunately, the burden was eventually shared. Her youngest sister put her kindergarten-aged son aside to stay long-term in Nanjing and assist Tianyun. Her second sister and brother, though unable to be there constantly, provided solid emotional and financial backing.

Tianyun's greatest realization revolves around "decision-making" and "boundaries." "No matter what illness my father has, it's our family's matter, and we bear the consequences," she said. "We listen to relatives' advice, but the final decision must remain with us." She learned to filter essential information from the noise, communicate with doctors rationally, and, most importantly, stop over-interfering in her family's "karma," returning each person's responsibilities to them.

「 Part VI: Epilogue 」

On the day this article was finalized, Nanjing was sweltering. Tianyun sent a message: "My dad passed away. He left peacefully, in his sleep."

In his final days, Tianyun's father was free from drainage tubes and spared from aggressive end-of-life resuscitation, achieving a dignified departure. Perhaps, on the cancer journey, this is the best farewell besides a cure.

The end of medicine may be love, but the starting point of love must be science. This article was originally written to record how a family sought hope in despair. Now, it has become an elegy and a tribute. A tribute to the father who persevered through illness and left peacefully, and to the eldest daughter who grew through the storm, turning grief into strength.

I believe that long, long from now, we will surely reunite with those we wish to see. For now, let us smile as we send those who have departed to a better place!

To protect patient privacy, names in this article are pseudonyms.

Images containing patient portraits are used with authorization and may not be reproduced without permission.