You mentioned in your latest posting that you can think of no better resting place than in the memories of people. I am a Christian who believes in the Bible. I do not know what your faith is. However, would you be interested in knowing what the Bible says about how to have eternal life?

Sent by Greg Sheryl | 9:03 AM ET | 07-14-2006

Dear Leroy,

I admire your humor and courage. Death is not so dreadful when we laugh at it. In addition, it is like a permanent peace and seclusion from all the hardwork, burden and heartbreaking. Only the worldly people feel sadness. Dead people feel no pain at all. At least, that is what I believe. However, people will miss you, for you are such an inspiring character and a living example among us. I know that people die every day, wise people as well as the innocent. But with dignity and courage, wise people will be remembered forever.

Sent by Jennifer Chen | 9:04 AM ET | 07-14-2006

One of the things that made me laugh was when I was lying on a table in radiology two days after Christmas. Due to severe pain in my right upper rib area that started on Christmas day, I moved my CAT scan up, and was having an ultrasound of the offending area. The radiologist came in to check on me, and to do some of the ultrasound himself. There I was, lying half naked on the table in all of my breast-reconstructed (NOT implants) glory. He stopped dead in the doorway with a blank look, and said "I thought that this was the patient who'd had breast cancer." My plastic surgeon had done a good enough job to fool him.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 9:06 AM ET | 07-14-2006

No risk factors for breast cancer six generations back on both sides of my family. I actually had only one estrogen, recommended by my M.D. after a hysterectomy for fibroids. The estrogen was supposed to prevent heart disease. For years, regular routine mammograms, as scheduled, did not show anything. Then one morning, running late for work, as I was brushing my teeth, naked, in front of the mirror, there it was...a slight depression in the skin on my left breast.

I knew inside myself what it was. Breast cancer was confirmed by needle biopsy. My doctor recommended radical mastectomy, chemo and radiation, ASAP. He was insulted when I questioned the necessity of the radical, as research was showing that leaving the breast tissue is better, because if the cancer recurs, it will recur in the breast tissue instead of the chest wall, which is much more serious. He told me that if I would not accept his recommendation, he could no longer be my doctor. I explained it was my life, my breast and he was being paid by me and my insurance company, so since he was working for me, he was fired!

I immediately found a new female breast surgeon who was working on a new detection method of removing just one lymph node instead of every one on the affected side of the body. She was willing to be my (real) doctor and we worked together to plan my course of treatment.

Because I was a new first time grandmother, my grandson was 10 months old, and I wanted to bond with my grandson as a person who was not bald, not sick and throwing up and not too tired to play, I opted for quality of life over quantity. The neat thing is that I wound up getting both.

I refused chemotherapy, which did not and never has made sense to me. Why destroy part of the immune system at the very time you need it most? I trusted Mother Nature more than I trusted the drug companies or the oncologist. The oncologist did his dead-level best to frighten me into chemo, but even though I was scared, I stood firm. He said since I would not take chemo, there was really no need for me to come to see him anymore. Also, because the only reason that the lymph nodes are removed is so that the oncologist can determine his protocol, I did not have to have my lymph nodes removed.

I did take 33 radiation treatments, while I continued to go to work everyday, for my mental health! It kept my mind off the cancer. I found a radiation oncologist who took seriously, my insistence on his irradiating the breast tissue, only not irradiating my lung tissue.

I stopped the estrogen immediately, got with a nutritionist, changed my eating habits, began taking herbs, and changed jobs (more money, and yet, less stress). I went for regular follow-ups and diagnostic mammograms.

Of course, I spent every wonderful moment possible with my grandson, who will celebrate his 10th birthday on August 1st. Oh the wonderful memories we have made!

Sent by Gail | 11:16 AM ET | 07-14-2006

I had a flexible sigmoidoscopy scheduled a couple of weeks after my gynecologist felt the mass in my rectum. I went to the pharmacy for an enema and asked the pharmacist, an acquaintance of mine, for advice. We discussed the procedure and I went on my way. Then came the diagnosis, the surgery, the chemo and the radiation. Then also came back to school night, I had two children and my husband and I each went to meet their various teachers. Many of the folks at school knew I had been diagnosed with cancer. In one of the classes, I was seated next to the pharmacist. She asked how I was and I said doing all right. Then she said, how did they find it? and I said, during the procedure. She looked very surprised and said, you mean the scope goes all the way up there? And I said, it was rectal cancer. It turned out someone had misunderstood and told folks I had brain cancer. She thought the scope went all the way up. I still laugh when I think of the look on her face.

Sent by Chris | 1:22 PM ET | 07-14-2006

Based on your outstanding commentaries concerning your life with cancer, you just have to be a truly incredible person. May God bless you richly.

Sent by Frances Hill | 3:01 PM ET | 07-14-2006

My mother just had that first day - surprise! It's a brain tumor! - Right after Memorial Day weekend. From the get go, we decided that humor was the best course of action, much to the chagrin of several nurses who believed we should be a bit more serious about this. I mean, after all...it's cancer, how can you laugh? But laugh we did, and abundantly so. We called it "tumor humor" - when taken in large doses accompanying chemo and/or radiation, it's bound to either help heal or give you one heck of a cramp in your side. Either way it certainly helps take the sting away, just the tiniest bit from what is not the easiest of journeys.

And yes, they are ridiculous with the fluid/straw combo in hospitals. Well noted.

Sent by Sara | 3:02 PM ET | 07-14-2006

I just came across your blog. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both. I was diagnosed in April, 2002, with uterine cancer and they discovered colon cancer while I was being operated on. I had to wait two months for the colon operation. I had to heal from the first. Without going into all the various details — some funny, some not so funny, like being in a coma for two months and not being able to come home for nine months — I'm still living and still making my son and husband angry sometimes, as usual-life goes on. The one thing I will never, ever do again is pray to God to let me be skinny enough to wear jeans. I got my answer in a way that I never thought possible. I think about my cancer returning everyday. I also think about paying bills everyday. I can take care of the bills, so the cancer takes a number and waits its turn for me think about it. Some days its number is a high priority, some days not. My faith in God keeps me on an even keel. I wish you happy thoughts when you start thinking about the dark valleys. Your faith will also see you through. You of course already know that.

Sent by Mary E. Elm | 5:32 PM ET | 07-14-2006

Leroy,

Thanks to you and to each of those who have shared their experiences, both funny and not so funny. At this moment, I am in Houston at MD Anderson for chemo. It is late — near midnight and nearly everyone is asleep around here. As I look back over the day, I find peace in the knowing smiles of each of the patients and what have they have encountered today. Each of them seem to understand most of the things you have written about. Nearly everyone here believes miracles are possible and that this place makes many of those miracles.

Thank you again for all you have done for us.

Sent by Scott McGaw | 11:27 AM ET | 07-15-2006

I needed to feel in some kind of control (HAH) before the surgery for ovarian cancer. I chose to shave my pubic hair myself, and then asked my daughter to draw something on my "naked place." As she was drawing on a jack-o-lantern face (surgery was the end of October), she said, "If anyone asks me what is the most intimate moment I've had with my mom — well, this is it." I could hardly wait for the surgeons to find the art work and it took all of my strength to not tell them ahead of time. I got my epidural, I was laid down on the table, draped and then my gown was lifted. The best moment ever was when they discovered our present to them — all of the doctors had to stop and lean to laugh! A great way to start a scary operation.

Sent by Louana George | 11:37 AM ET | 07-15-2006

These articles touch me very deeply. They come from such a place of truth and honesty. I feel so fortunate to read them. I send you much love.

Sent by Liz Menten | 11:42 AM ET | 07-15-2006

After reading your blog, I feel that getting cancer isn't that terrible at all. Cancer is a fatal disease, and even doctors had told you that maybe you could only live for six months. Surprisingly,you aren't afraid of it, being optimistic and having great courage to get through it. And miracles come to you! You beat the disease.

Frankly speaking, we know that everyone fears death, even if they pretend how brave they are. But you wrote your blog to give us much power to beat the disease. It may also heal our mental problems, getting the disease out of our bodies.

We don't have any medicine to cure cancer, but we have faith and courage.

Sent by Rex | 11:50 AM ET | 07-16-2006

Dear Leroy Sievers,

I've read your blog recently from NPR.org and I was touched by you attitude when you face your cancer. Your words had given me a different idea on cancer and I hope your words can help other people who have cancer. I learn from your article that even if you have cancer, you are still strong and face it with dignity and courage. I hope you live well and enjoy your days with us.

Sent by Tony Hsu | 12:06 PM ET | 07-17-2006