My Story

Why I Built This

This became personal when my mom was diagnosed with an extremely rare and aggressive cancer: ovarian carcinosarcoma with rhabdomyosarcoma differentiation.

We did what we were supposed to do. Surgery. Chemotherapy. Avastin as maintenance. The scans said she was cancer free. Two months later, it was back. The carcinoma part had not returned, but the rhabdomyosarcoma had. It was platinum resistant, growing fast, and the conversation changed from "treatment plan" to "time left."

Hearing "six months to two years" does something to a family. It makes every normal day feel strange. You are trying to eat dinner, answer texts, go to work, and also somehow understand a cancer almost nobody studies because it is too rare to attract much attention.

I started reading because I did not know what else to do. Studies, case reports, old drugs, supplements, metabolic theories, safety warnings, mechanisms, failed trials, small wins, and a lot of things that looked promising until I read deeper. I kept finding pieces of information scattered everywhere, but never in the format a desperate caregiver actually needs.

I also found how easy it is to get misled. A mechanism can sound incredible and still fail in a human being. A testimonial can be sincere and still prove nothing. A protocol can look organized and still be a pile of guesses. On the other hand, some overlooked compounds and repurposed drugs really do have interesting data behind them. The hard part is separating "worth discussing with a doctor" from "internet miracle."

That is what OncoForge is supposed to be: not a cure site, not a protocol shop, not a place pretending certainty where there is none. It is a place to organize what I found, link the sources, explain the mechanisms in plain English, and be honest about the limits.

We made decisions under pressure. Some of them I still think were reasonable. Some I would handle differently now. Some I will probably never know how to judge, because cancer does not give you a clean experiment. It gives you overlapping treatments, fear, symptoms, timing, hope, and grief all tangled together.

Even after pairing traditional oncology with alternative medications that showed a lot of promise, my mom passed into the full presence of Christ on December 15, 2025, only six months after the terminal diagnosis. In the end, the cancer moved faster than our ability to understand it. That is a sentence I hate writing, but it is the truth.

I made the site free because I know what it feels like to be searching at two in the morning, trying to figure out what question you should even ask the oncologist next. If this site helps someone ask better questions, understand a risk, find a source, or avoid copying something blindly from a comment thread, then it is worth keeping online.

Take anything useful here back to a qualified medical team. Challenge it. Verify it. Do not trust me blindly either. That is the whole point: people deserve sources, context, and honesty when the stakes are this high.