Thank you, Leroy, for being there so I can think about your emotional postings as I fail to find sleep this early morning. Oh, your writing is not emotional as much as my reaction to it. In fact, I never cease to be amazed at your ability to take such emotion-laden issues and look at them both in practical but also spiritual ways. As you and I struggle with what may well be terminal cancers, I find incredible solace in your writing, even though sometimes I cry like a baby. Thank you for giving me, and no doubt others, that opportunity.

Sent by Christopher Barry | 10:43 AM ET | 09-27-2006

Recently, someone who I'd chatted with in the BCO chat room for over a year died from breast cancer. She was the second "regular" in the chat room who'd died in the last several months. Some of the chatters who lived in her state had actually met her, had become friends in more than the "virtual" world, and knew her family. We received regular updates about her in the chat room from those friends, until she died a couple of weeks ago. It saddened "the room" and still does, but of course, the undercurrent was, "It could have been me" for some, and "When will it be my turn?" for others.

In the chat room, we do the same ... talk about our families, treatments, surgeries, work issues, pets and test reports, but underneath it all is that faint hum of possible death as the outcome of all of this. Those who are new to this world, or whose disease is at an early stage, seem awed and sometimes freaked out by those of us whose cancer is at stage 4. It makes the possiblilty of actually dying from bc more real. Some don't want to allow those for whom death is a very real and possibly imminent thing to vent about that. Posts of "stay positive" or "keep fighting" are thin armor against disease that may have spread to liver, bones, lungs, and/or brain. I think about them and that possibility every day. I don't obsess about it; that would be a waste of life, but the distant hum is there ...

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 10:50 AM ET | 09-27-2006

Dear Mr. Sievers: You will likely never read this comment because the anonymous censors at NPR will likely prevent it from being transmitted to you, just as they have been censoring vital information about the patent and total failure of the war on cancer for almost a half century. Your e-mail or other addresses are carefully censored from the Web site, so I cannot send it to you directly. I urge you to read the following references:

1. CancerGate by Samuel S. Epstein, M.D., 2005.

2. The Hidden Story of Cancer by Brian Peskin, E.E. and Amid Habib, M.D., Pinnacle Press, Houston, 483 pages hardbound,hundreds of references, available at the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center Research Library, Houston, Texas.

3. The Politics of Cancer Revisited, by Samuel S. Epstein,M.D., East Ridge Press, N.Y., 1998, about 800 pages, about 1200 references.

4. The Cancer Industry by Ralph W. Moss, Ph.D., Equinox Press, N.Y., 1996, first published as The Cancer Syndrome about 1980, about 500 pages and 500 references.

5. University Fails to Offer Another Viewpoint by Winfield J. Abbe, Ph.D., at www.annieappleseedproject.org.

6. The Truth about Hydrazine Sulfate: Dr. Gold Speaks by Joseph Gold, M.D., at www.hydrazinesulfate.org. This is an indictment of the National Cancer Institute.

7. American Cancer Society: Americas Wealthiest Non-Profit Institution by Samuel S. Epstein, M.D. published in the International Journal of Health Services about 1999 and reprinted on the website www.preventcancer.com.

8. An Unsuccessful Effort to Deny Use of State of Georgia Facilites for Fund Raising by the American Cancer Society by Winfield J. Abbe, Ph.D., Athens, Ga., May, 2000, available at the University of Georgia Library, Athens, Georgia. Among other things, this book describes how my wife was nearly killed in Athens, Ga., not from breast cancer, but "treatment."

When someone is reported to have died of "cancer," how do you know they truly died of cancer and not the "treatment," since the only approved cancer treatments by the medical orthodoxy of the U.S. are all life threatening and usually no autopsy, let alone an objective and convincing one, is made, to prove the true cause of death? Most cancer deaths are likely caused, not by cancer, but the treatment itself, but the lying doctors routinely and falsely and fraudulently state on death certificates the contratary.

Do you know who killed that federal judges family in Chicago a few years ago? A disgruntled cancer patient because she refused to give him his day in court as have other judges. The last thing the criminal medical orthodoxy wants is a real challenge to their gross criminal fraud in federal court. The cancer generals should be fired and charged with scientific misconduct and criminal fraud.

The prime cause of cancer was discovered decades ago by the genius level scientist Otto Warburg, M.D., Ph.D. in Germany Oxygen deficiency to living cells. He even invented a special device to measure oxygen pressure in living tissue. He invented the tissue slice technique. He first discovered this in 1923 for animal tissue and proved it for humans about 40 years later, confirmed by many others in thousands of scientific papers world wide. Too bad the so-called "journalists" at NPR won't report on all this, isn't it? If anything I say is wrong, prove it with scientific references, not hollow words.

Cancer takes decades to develop from decades of oxygen deficient cells. Genetics has nothing to do with it. If genetics were the cause of cancer the medical orthodoxy would have solved the problem by now, after squandering multi billions of public and private hard earned dollars. Instead, about one person dies every minute in the U.S. (over 550,000 per year) either of cancer, "treatment" (mistreatment would be a more appropriate word) or a combination thereof. Ignorance is bliss. The only reason this disgusting station is publishing your meaningless comments is because they are in bed with the criminals in the medical establishment who are being controlled by the drug companies and money. The other day they even disclosed they received money from that disgusting and criminal organization the American Cancer Society. Fire the Cancer Generals and charge them with scientific misconduct and criminal fraud.

Finally just keep this in mind when talking to medical doctors: Most of them were permitted to take a watered down set of physics classes in college, which amounted to little more than high school physics. They did not take the same set of rigorous physics classes all physicists, chemists, engineers and most other true scientists take. This is one of the basic reasons most of them are very low level individuals and cannot be trusted to do medicine or science.

Sent by Winfield J. Abbe | 11:00 AM ET | 09-27-2006

Wow, somebody needs a chill pill! My Dad passed away 15 years ago, of CANCER, nothing else, of the bone. It was a long painful fight for him. It was especially hard to tell my Mom when I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year as I did not want her to feel she was going thru it all again. Due to new medicines, such as Herceptin, I have a good prognosis to be around for a long time. Although I do not dwell on death, it definitely crosses my mind more. I try very hard to keep perspective on what is important to me to impart to my kids, family and friends. I am still saddened by my Dads death but it is always so enjoyable to come across a picture or old video and see his smiling face. Thank you for your caring and sharing.

Sent by Jenene Koegel | 4:16 PM ET | 09-27-2006

Oh, Mr. Sievers, thank you so much. I sometimes hesitate to post comments to your blog. Should the space be reserved solely for patients? To the best of my knowledge I do not have cancer but my husband and my mother did. So my comments are the POV of a wife, caregiver and child.

My husband and my mother died within 14 weeks of each other last year. I still live with the details of my husband's death in my head every day. He was at home the day his heart stopped and his cousin and I did CPR for what had to have been 45 minutes while the ambulance tried to find our house. I will never forget that day. As grateful as I am that our cousin was there to help, I'm sorry that he had to go through that with me. I know hell never forget it either.

I am curious now after reading the comments of Winfield J. Abbe. The primary cause of death on my husband's death certificate is "anoxic encephalopathy." Boy, does that cause more guilt! I even failed him in performing CPR. Metastatic colon cancer is the last entry on his death certificate and comes in at #4. My question is this, is he classified as a cancer statistic or not. How does that work? Do we have accurate counts of the number of people that "die of" cancer each year?

Sent by D.L.N. | 4:30 PM ET | 09-27-2006

There isn't any way that anybody can get this right, because the chasm of death that separates us invokes a loss so great that it is beyond words and even beyond concept. It's a loss that can often not be looked at directly, because we all might just drown in it. Therefore, we all do and say what we will and can, and we all know that the weight of what we carry inside of us, unspoken, requires true courage and is the real thread that binds us all together.

Sent by Marsha Goldberg | 4:31 PM ET | 09-27-2006

Oh puh-leeze. Mr. Abbe, while I am happy to see that "this disgusting station" is willing to print "meaningless comments," and while some of the information that you spouted off appears to be of some interest, your vitriol works against you. I don't know how many other people will post responses to your long diatribe, but I would be surprised if people around the country, who I presume turn to this blog as a source of comfort and inspiration, are suddenly whacking their heads and saying, "Good Lord, I've been led astray." It's hard to see past your bitterness to what you're actually trying to convey. Or, as I say to my kids, "Is it better to be right or friendly?" People aren't going to listen to you, no matter how right you are, if you aren't a teeny bit friendly. I didn't need to join the cancer club to learn that lesson.

Sent by Jennifer Haan | 4:35 PM ET | 09-27-2006

Simply put, thank you for recognizing those of us left behind when a loved one is taken by this hideous disease.

Sent by Christine | 9:34 AM ET | 09-28-2006

Thanks again Leroy for your thoughts. However I try not to dwell... yes there are times when I find myself caught up for an hour or two about my surviving this long and waiting for the inevitable. And yes, fear does enter more than I would like... but for today everything is perfect... Isn't that what Ben and Jerry's is for?

Sent by Meredith P. | 5:34 PM ET | 09-28-2006

Thank you for hoping one day we all find peace in our hearts since our loved ones left. Lots of time when I standing in line at grocery stores, I look around and see those normal people and can not help wondering how many of them are living with a scar in their hearts. I wish one day, I could say although mum is gone, she used this chance to wake me up to be a better daughter, mum and wife. I simply miss her so much. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us.

Sent by Lan | 5:38 PM ET | 09-28-2006

Yes, we have all lost loved ones to cancer. And when we have it, the deaths are a flash of our own mortality from the disease. My first grandchild was born yesterday. Will I see him grow up to experience life? I have decided that my path through cancer has helped me to appreciate each and every moment that I have. As I hold him and help my daughter through these first days I know that no matter how long my journey turns out to be I will enjoy each day and stay in the moment.

Sent by Robin Schneider | 6:13 PM ET | 09-28-2006

I think when we lose someone who we have made connection with the event and all the things that go with it never disappear completely.

I wrote a little article in July after a series of losses, I thought I might share a portion of it with you all.

My Sea of Sorrows

A dear friend of mine was brutally murdered this week. I lost my best friends brother to suicide at the beginning of the year. I experienced the ache of losing a man I considered my brother April past from cancer. All of the losses in their various forms have burdened my soul, each inflicting a different and unique wound in my heart.

When a family or community loses someone of value, traditionally we weep; we mourn, and "bury" our loved ones with our sorrows. After that we are expected to move on, carry on and live on with our lives. I have had trouble with this notion because I have discovered, particularly this past year that the icy fingers of pain and the chill of my losses have melted into a sea of sorrows.

Some days I find that my sea is calm. I go through the ritual of my day with little to no disturbance. Other days, there are waves in my sea. Sometimes they lick at my ankles. I feel their presence at my feet but when I look they have gone... but I know they are there because I feel the dampness on my feet and the wetness on my cheeks. Sometimes I wade into thoughts and feelings of my loved one. I feel them surround me and though it was cold to step in to the waters the love surrounding me makes me warm.

Sometimes I run into the surf looking for what I have lost. I look so intently that I forget my surroundings only to feel the crash of the wave that puts me under unexpectedly. I find myself overwhelmed, unprepared for the flood of emotions that overtake and drag me under. Sometimes there are people there to save me from drowning. Sometimes I have to wait to be thrown back onto the shore. Alone and cold. Frightened and gasping for air. Realizing that there is a thin line separating my state from theirs. Knowing that out there lies the riptide of emotion that will take me if I care to submit.

I look out at that endless sea of sorrow and try to understand its mystery. The when's. The where's. The whys. The how's. Realizing that there are no easy answers. Knowing that in my sea of sorrow it is a matter of navigation, watching the turn of the tide, and finding the way to make it back to the shore.

Sent by Heather C. | 5:50 PM ET | 09-29-2006

The love of my life died two weeks ago. I am thirty-five years old. My heart is so broken. My restlessness is neverending, and sometimes I even feel as if I cannot breathe. Every thought ... every moment is about Mark ... It hurts sooo bad. What I would not give to have somebody say they understand. I told him I would be okay. I promised I would be strong, but I don't feel strong. In fact, I feel like a part of me has died inside. I just want him back. I want him to hold my face in his hands again and tell me that everything will be all right. I want him to show me a sign that he is with me somehow. I have much support at work, home and from his family ... but I still feel alone. I took care of him to the end. I held his hands as he drowned in the fluid from his lungs ... I have trouble getting that vision out of my head, and I try focusing on how his beautiful hands just fell into mine when he was not struggling anymore ... That is the only way I get through every day ... I would do it all over again for him ... I love him so much. He was my beautiful man. I am not sure how to go on. I am scared and sad and at a great loss. I hope somebody can understand. I encourage loved ones of somebody with cancer to savor every second they get ... every moment ... listen to them ... hold them ... laugh with them ... live with them ... I did with Mark, and he has left me with so many great memories. I believe his love could possibly carry me through to the end of my time.

Sent by Sara S. | 9:32 AM ET | 10-03-2006

As you said, we are all in this together. I lost my mom and only older sister to breast cancer within 9 months of each other. I will never forget the memories, the sharing, mother, sister, best friends. We other 6 daughters share with the nieces and nephews the love and fond memories and the pain of losing them from our lives. As long as we are alive, we will keep the memories alive and we will be forever proud of how they loved life and lived life.

Sent by Lorrie Walker | 9:36 AM ET | 10-03-2006

Sometimes you cannot say anything to a person who has had a loved one succumb to cancer, or any other terminal disease. Sometimes, the best word is not a word at all, but simply a warm hand to grasp, a gentle and knowing smile, or a head nod. Maybe just silently inching a physical half-step closer to the person who is left to endure. This will sound crude, but when I lost the person I loved most to cancer, I also coincidentally was having three molars removed. When someone asked me how I felt about my loved ones passing, which I thought was a perfectly legitimate question, I subconsciously placed my tongue in the spaces where my molars had been. When I realized what I had done, it dawned on me that there was a similarity of events going on. Where my molars had been, there were spaces that would remain forever, and nothing could ever take the place of what had been there for most of my life. The teeth are gone, but never forgotten. So I told one person who asked me about my departed loved one to start right there with that analogy, and expand. Loved ones pass on, and we eventually come to accept that reality. But they can never, and shouldn't ever, be replaced.

Sent by Duke Morris | 10:22 AM ET | 10-03-2006

I think Winfield J. Abbe owes NPR and apology, and NPR deserves commendation, because NPR did what Abbe predicted the NPR censors would not do: publish Abbes comments. Whether by ruse or a calculated gambit, Abbes' end objective came to fruition, and this confirms my conviction that NPR is many steps closer to what a "free press" is supposedly about than any other readily accessible news and information medium.

Sent by Duke Morris | 10:35 AM ET | 10-03-2006

I lost two college classmates within a month recently. One of them was due to cancer. I haven't seen them for almost 30 years. But, I remember their young college faces clearly. What I'd like to add is that on one hand you can say that I'll always remember them. On the other hand, I acutally feel that a piece of them, or a version of them that I understand, lives in my mind.

Sent by Ping Wang | 2:54 PM ET | 10-10-2006

I lost my dad 6 months ago due to liver cancer.From the times that we found out, my dad's only live 3 weeks.
Cancer had taken my dad so quickly that there was not anytimes to say good-bye and that I really love him.But even if I have the time I know I won't be able to.I think life is so hard to move or goes on when you misses someone so much.

Sent by Quyen Tran | 2:03 AM ET | 01-27-2008

My daughter works for someone who we've gotten to known as a very good friend for the past 6 years. He is like a brother to us (52 years old, I am 50 and my husband 55). I was at the hospital when his sister took him there, thinking he'd had a heart attack this last Monday. The dr came in and told us all he had lung cancer which spread to his brain.

We were all shocked. He decided he didn't want chemo or any biopsy, because he didn't want to leave any debts. He raises Golden Retrievers and has two young kids, one just graduated and in her first year in college, and one still in high school.

My daughter, son, husband and I were just getting over the shock of that, and today got news that my cousin, 28, was killed in a car accident (he fell asleep), leaving a wife (married 2 years).

How do you help support someone with this type of cancer. what can we do for him? He is so positive, which we are trying to be, especially after another tragedy like this strikes so close to finding out about the cancer? I feel like the world is crashing down around us.

What can we do now, how can we help our friend, please give us ideas? Just to let you know, we found out another cousin of mine found out she has cancer also, lung cancer, just before Christmas, so we are dealing with that also.

Sent by Slk | 12:35 AM ET | 04-06-2008

I lost my twin brother from cancer 10 years ago iam so mad i dont khnow what i feel any more . because i dident khnow what 2 do.for 10 years khnow i fear that i have the same disease i fear that i will died 2 i dident go 2 hospitals or doctors more than 10 years i feel something i dont khnow what gan i do

Sent by jackies from cyprus | 11:13 AM ET | 05-28-2008