I am reading today's blog while I am waiting to get picked up to go to the hospital for a endoscopy ultrasound. On Friday, June 30, I will meet with my surgeon to find out what my treatment plan will be and what the devil is going on inside of me, if the cancer is contained to my esaphagus or abdomen or if it has spread to other organs. I am scared to death to hear that news, but of course its inevitable. I'm like you — I always needed to know exactly whats going on, now I am not so sure. It feels like I am talking about someone else when I explain my situation to my sister and my dear friends. My husband is very supportive, thank God for him. Its his birthday today and here we are instead of celebrating I am doing tests. I just hate all this, but what else can you do? Thanks for your blog.

Sent by Ruth White | 10:11 AM ET | 06-28-2006

Thanks Leroy for sharing your stories — they mean a lot to me, even though I don't have cancer. As you said I have known many who have had cancer such as my grandmother and friends. I appreciate your sharing and your honest thoughts.....

Sent by Danielle | 12:48 PM ET | 06-28-2006

I stumbled into your blog when I was looking some other information on the NPR web site. Your blog heading caught my attention because my wife is also fighting for her life now. She has ovarian cancer. I was with her all the time when she was receiving the chemo treatment — six times altogether. Seeing how she is suffering from the treatment and now the side effects — swollen limbs, tired easily, not being able to sit or stand for a long time without feeling pain and uncomfortable, I swear that I don't want my enemy to go through what she has gone through.

You are right that there is no possible ways that you could comfort your loved one when he or she is fighting the cancer cells. I been there. I tried but I failed. We have been married for more than twenty-six years and we have never been closer than now. I dared not to raise my voice for agrument which is very seldom in this days.

She is a perfect patient as far as I see she react to the treatments, her family, her loved ones, and her friend. She surely complains she surely does ask the question: why me she has her down times but she tries all her mighty to make us, her immediate family, feel comfortable. She still care our well beings. She devotes all her time and energy to our teenage daughter. She wants her to go to the best college that she could fight her way in. She wants to take care of her forever. I remember vividly the time when she suddenly uttered to me that she was not sure how long she could comb our daughter's hair. I could not stop my tears rolling down and I cried like a baby.

Thank you for sharing your war stories with us and sometimes you do feel lonely out there when your loved one is fighting for her life and you are not able to help a bit.

Sent by Steve Yuen | 2:20 PM ET | 06-28-2006

Another good friend, the young father of a toddler (why does that make things so much more poignant) learned of his diagnosis yesterday. It brought to mind the call I received from a dear friend two years ago. Multiple Myeloma — not sure shed pursue treatment as the prognosis was so poor. I was staggered. I felt helpless and so oddly lonely. We were living far away from each other. But a good doctor (meant in the purest sense), encouraged her and when I heard that shed be doing a stem cell transplant, I knew that this was my chance. She'd need someone by her, and her husband had decamped. So I took a leave from work, farmed out my dogs, and took off across the country to spend eight weeks with her while she was run through the radical treatment of a stem cell transplant. What a great gift to have been able to be there — and she needed someone there all the time. It was too tough to do alone. We know there's no cure — the doctors say maybe ten years with probably at least another series of transplant treatment. Her perspective is different in a session with a financial planner recently. She posited a life span of the ten years, and bless him, he built on that. She's contemplating buying a house, to have achieved that dream, no matter how short the time to live it. She identifies her happiness and tries to maintain a sense of calm and an enjoyment of the present. We acknowledge the shadow but relish times like the vacation we took together recently in New York City. As a friend, I was given the rare opportunity to express my love in a concrete sense... I am grateful to her for letting me — I think that for folks struggling with the disease in them, it might help to know that those who love you may appreciate the chance to let you know how much they care. I know this sounds sort of sappy, but it is a literal truth.

Sent by Amy Rolnick | 3:15 PM ET | 06-28-2006

I really have only sympathy in your fight with cancer. My father, mother, and step-mother all died of cancer.

Sent by Thelma Sargee | 3:54 PM ET | 06-28-2006

I am so thankful for this blog. My father is in a similar situation and I am having a very difficult time with it. Reading your comments has been helpful for me. My mother passed away in December, and for her, I knew I had done everything I could do — no regrets. But with my father, as you say, everything is so uncertain, I never know if I am offering good counsel and support or not. Thank you for this opportunity to share in your journey.I really need it.

Sent by Mary Arnold | 4:44 PM ET | 06-28-2006

My doctors are amazing detectives, and they made their best recommendations for my cancer treatment last year. They make these life and death recommendations for their distressed patients almost every day. I have so much respect for them. When I was trying to figure out how to treat my cancer, I got second and third opinions. None of the opinions matched, so I had to trust my gut and decide, based on the information in front of me. I had a minor meltdown with all of that responsibility at maximum crisis time, and spoke at length with one of my radiologists. He told me that whatever I chose, I should feel comfortable with that choice and never look back and second guess it or say "what if." That helped me decide to go for the most aggressive treatment available, and it helped give me a little feeling of control over my out-of-control universe.

Sent by Leslie | 4:58 PM ET | 06-28-2006

Don't give up!

In February 1999, I was told "you have cancer and there is no cure." Not the best way to start my week. I was given 12-18 months to live. A second opinion at M.D. Anderson cancer center, rated number one in cancer research last year, gave me the same melody with perhaps a five-year duration. My brother is a retired naturopath, which is a doctor that treats with natural (stuff). He is an absolutely no B.S. kind of guy and 20 years ago when our mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer and she asked him what was going to happen he said "you're going to die soon", perhaps not the most delicate bed side manner! With me, however, he said, "don't count on it." I had or have stage 4 non Hogkins lymphoma. I take maybe 30 pills/day, including potent anti oxidants, mushroom extracts, weird stuff that he prescribed. Now my C.A.T. Scans come back clear, the first one looked like a shoot gun pattern and an F.B.I. firing range! I must mention when his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer he treated her and she has been cancer free 18 years. She takes perhaps half the stuff I do and lots of other stuff. I am more that well aware that a random sampling of two is unimpressive unless you are one of the two. The point is alternative stuff, I believe, has kept she and me in remission. I strongly recommend you find a naturopath to work with. Next to cancer drugs the natural stuff is free. I spend perhaps $200-$300 per month. What I find most confounding is my oncologist has absolutely no interest in anything that is in any way out side party line doctrine. My wife and I are now considering our retirement in three years, maybe. Good luck.

It occurs to me this might be viewed as a solicitation for my brother.

A. he is retired

B. he no longer treats patients

C. he no longer has malpractice insurance and so can?t treat anyone!

Sent by Jeffrey Austin D.D.S. | 8:46 AM ET | 06-29-2006

Thanks for being my first publicist. I truly hate writing and avoid it at all cost when possible, but as I may be able to help others, and you may be receptive, I feel I must include "the rest of the story." I neglected to include some very significant caveats that may be useful to our fellow travelers down this precipitous road.

Cancer is perhaps 1600 diseases and they are more different than I ever imagined. In my sister-in-law?s case, they were going to give her chemo and radiation. As I previously stated, my brother "the student" spent a good deal of his life treating cancer patients. With my sister-in law?s diagnosis he researched her histological findings and found no meaningful advantage in conventional therapies in her case! He asked her oncologist what was wrong with the thirteen studies on her condition he was able to access and was told, "Well, we just have to do something." His response was something like so you are going to make her sick as hell with no real statistical advantage for her. She walked out of the oncologist?s office in tears and said, "Steve, you do it" and that was all the treatment she got after her lumpectomy. My diagnosis on the other hand included a bone marrow biopsy which showed 40% of my bone marrow was mush, not to mention dozens of cancerous lymph nods. He told me do all the conventional chemo and all the alternative stuff because in your case, that will be the best chance.

My bottom line is to find all the avenues open to you and explore them all with the understanding there "ain?t" no guarantees.

Best Wishes.

Sent by Jeffery Austin D.D.S. | 2:09 PM ET | 06-29-2006

It's the Friday before a long weekend and I am absolutely giddy. How nice to have days off from work devoted to rest, relaxation and me - or should I say us time. Since January of this year, my days off have been mainly devoted to doctor appointments, surgeries and treatments related to my breast cancer. My husband and I could both use a break!

On another note, I would like to recommend a fantastic book that was given to me by a dear friend who is engaged in her own fight with the big "C." Its called "Happiness in a Storm: Facing Illness and Embracing Life as a Healthy Survivor" by Wendy Schessel Harpham. Dr. Harpham is a physician and also a lymphoma survivor. She's had numerous recurrences and has undergone a variety of treatments. She speaks as a physician and well-informed patient. The book is full of excellent information and is also one of the most inspiring and hopeful stories I've read.

Sent by Susan Beadle | 12:25 PM ET | 06-30-2006

for all of you with cancer and using conventional treatment, please take a look at www.drday.com She is a medical doctor that refused chemo and radiation because she knew how harmful it could be. read her story and take hope.

Sent by Tina Sisco | 8:32 AM ET | 01-31-2008