Pants are brave, but I did the bravest thing I could think to do... I bought a house. We had been looking before I was diagnosed. It was a sellers' market then, although talk of a market bubble was everywhere. Last weekend, after 11 chemo treatments going well and despite the fact my liver mets remained inoperable, I decided I wanted an older house, one with character.

I wanted something soon. I wanted a place that would stay in the family filled with warm family memories of cooking outside around the huge swimming pool. A place where the grandchildren could plant gardens all their own. I wanted memories of my 2 1/2 year old granddaughters first sleep over at grandma Cherie and grandpa John's house. So I looked at houses while sometimes I was so nauseated I first asked where all the bathrooms were located. I found the perfect house, a newly remodeled kitchen overlooking a great room with a fireplace. A place our Italian eating family could gather to cook and talk and tell stories.

Best of all, the former owner had been a pool/spa contractor. The pool had a lagoon wading area, a grotto with a waterfall... where you could swim inside and be alone or with the kids and tell stories and make up fables or secretly cry. A spa to warm my neuropathy damaged feet and hands. A place you could see the mountains and God's beauty. A place where memories could grow for a long time. I signed the 30-year mortgage and smiled at John. I promise you I will stay until the angels close my eyes.

Sent by Cherie Brown | 9:20 AM ET | 09-12-2006

Well, that's certainly practical. Pants that fit are what Martha would call a "good thing".

I'm in the process of getting a life that fits me now that I have been told that I have "NED" or no evidence of disease. Apparently, two plus years ago when widespread lung mets were found, at least one of my doctors didn't think that I'd live. Thankfully, he didn't say so. I do live, however, and now that the surgeries and most of the tests are behind me for the foreseeable future, I have to figure out how to live less like a cancer patient and more like a person who is thriving. I'm utilizing the help of "life tailors"... friends, counselors and minister to help me figure out the way forward, and get me out of the ditch of the stale, doctor-to-doctor thing my life has been in the last three years. You need larger pants, and I need a larger life.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 9:22 AM ET | 09-12-2006

I look forward to your column every day. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, I was almost out of checks. Rather than order my customary two boxes, I only ordered one (no need in having my husband get stuck with all those checks with both of our names on them!). Thankfully, I've re-ordered LOTS more checks with both his name and mine on them since then. Best wishes!

Sent by Gal Walker | 9:24 AM ET | 09-12-2006

Leroy, You are an amazing man! New pants that fit will make you feel better and you need to do everything and anything that is in your power to make you feel better. Live for today, tomorrow will take care of itself.

Sent by Ruth White | 1:42 PM ET | 09-12-2006

I thank you for your insight. I, too, have cancer. I have been thinking about a lot of the very same things as you.

Keep up the fight.

Sent by Randy Trotter | 1:43 PM ET | 09-12-2006

For me, it was getting new bras or a bathing suit after being diagnosed with breast cancer last fall. All my old ones were worn thin, but should I invest in something new at this point? I wasn't sure what kind of body I'd have after treatment: reconstructed or au naturel, one or two breasts, or what? I did splurge on new bras while waiting for the outcome, more for comfort after biopsies and multiple lumpectomies and infections, and grabbed probably the last mastectomy bathing suit in the catalog at the end of summer when I was finally DONE with surgeries and treatment. I'm pleased to say I actually like the mastectomy bathing suit and will wear it this winter, God willing, on a family vacation. And my new mastectomy bras are even "normal" looking. Life does go on! Now, if I can just lose my #10 from the steroids... and grow my hair back.

Sent by Karen Bensley | 1:45 PM ET | 09-12-2006

I remember clearly shopping for trash bags at a warehouse store shortly after I found out that I had breast cancer. The smallest quantity available was 300. I only use one per week so that would be nearly six years of trash bags! Despite the low price, I could not bring myself to buy them. I went to another store and bought a container of 50 bags instead. Cancer brings a whole new perspective to every aspect of life.

Sent by Cynthia | 1:47 PM ET | 09-12-2006

I know exactly what you mean! I haven't bought anything in the way of clothes for myself in a little over a year. Not a sock or underpants, not a tee shirt or a shoe. I've gained 20 pounds and stick to the things in my closet that have elastic. I love the way you ended your blog today.

Sent by Cindy H. | 1:49 PM ET | 09-12-2006

I am so happy you are exceeding expectations.

Tomorrow (9/13) is the 30th anniversary of my father's death from cancer. He survived 2 years longer than the doctors expected, which allowed me to have any memories of him at all (I was 7 in 1976). He was 6 foot and 79 pounds when he died, so I, for one, am happy about your weight gain. So buy those pants and a bottle of wine or golf clubs or better yet, plant a tree and watch it grow.

Sent by Diana Martin | 3:21 PM ET | 09-12-2006

I love anything monogrammed! And after my mastectomy when the doctor told me my "prognosis was very poor" — "lymph node involvement" — I stopped getting writing paper and towels monogrammed. I also did not have my Christmas cards, bought for the next year, engraved ahead of time... one day, 10 years later, I just felt OK about ordering anything monogrammed, and I went to town — even a gold ring with my initials. It has now been 20 years, and I am still monogramming...

Sent by Maggie | 3:32 PM ET | 09-12-2006

This is my first entry. My name is Moe and I was diagnosed with colon cancer about six weeks ago and I've had several tests since then. I have 3T colon cancer and I'm scheduled to start radiation and chemo therapy tomorrow. I was planning on getting married. I had met the most understanding and perfect woman in my life about six months ago. She's in the middle of a divorce; her husband left her about a year ago. We had talked about getting married the day before the colonoscopy. I decided she was the one! Cool, but suddenly, now we are in the middle of all this and she still tells me her feelings have not changed. She is a great comfort to me. I've looked up information on the Web and I'm not sure what my changes are for the future. I'm 51 years and I worked out and jogged at least three times a week. I hope that is in my favor. I don't think about it much. I guess it's because I haven't experienced any of the treatment yet, So with that said? I guess the roller coaster ride starts tomorrow, 13 Sep 06. I pray the rosary most every night and I've given most of my worries to the load. Right now I just want to get the treatment started and do what ever the doctors ask of me. My only regret in life is that it took so long for me to meet that special someone that I truly love. I hope the Lord gives me that chance to love again.

Thanks for listening.

Sincerely Yours,

Moe

Sent by Morris Moe Trujillo | 3:43 PM ET | 09-12-2006

One of our friends was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and he was given about 8 months. In that time, he bought a new house, a 25th anniversary Camaro and played stand-up bass in at least 6 concerts. I had to admire him for that if only for the fact that he enjoyed every moment that the house, car and music brought to him.

Buy a suit for heavens sake, and wear it everywhere!! And enjoy yourself while you have the chance to wear it!!

Thinking lots of good thoughts for you and yours.

Sent by Emily | 5:52 PM ET | 09-12-2006

Get something really snazzy!!!! You deserve it! Thank you for being there. I have been reading your blog almost daily for a couple of months now. While your experiences are very different than my Dad's (who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in February), it is still very helpful and therapeutic for me to read your blog. Have fun shopping!

Sent by Gwen Everman | 5:53 PM ET | 09-12-2006

I did something similar. I put off getting my new glasses until I had gotten the results of my first scan. They were clear! They may not stay clear, but as a reward for having a clear scan I got myself the progressive lenses instead of the cheaper bi-focals. Now my husband and I are debating the purchase of a new car. All sorts of factors come into play, including how long I am going to live. Im still undecided on this one, but am leaning towards getting a car that meets his needs rather than mine. That way, if I don't make it, he will have one car instead of two that don't work for him. A new book title: The Color of Cancer. No, it doesn't exist, but I am finding that cancer colors everything once it touches your life.

Sent by Stephanie | 12:41 PM ET | 09-13-2006

I had to give some thought when I was told that I had to switch from shaving with a razor to using an electric shaver. This was supposed to minimize the chances of me cutting myself and getting an infection which my chemo-compromised immune system might have trouble with. Aside from the dark humor of a "death by a thousand cuts" from a stupid shaving cut, I had to wonder about purchasing the shaver with the unlimited two-year warranty. My first prognosis was that I might not make it to two years and I had to wonder if I'd outlast the shaver. I wondered if my wife could return the shaver if it lived longer than I did. Stupid thoughts. I purchased the shaver anyway and actually like it better than the razor. Maybe its time to get rid of that old dishwasher in the kitchen next....

Sent by Bob M. | 12:48 PM ET | 09-13-2006

Leroy... after surgery, chemo and a very grim diagnosis of stage 4 small intestine cancer, my husband did not want to "bother" going to the dentist to take care of what was becoming a miserable gum condition... figuring what's the point... but he did. That was just about five years ago... his mouth looks good and so does he, he is still here, feeling well. So teeth, pants... you gotta look good.

Sent by Terry | 12:58 PM ET | 09-13-2006

Dear Leroy,

I read your blog every day, because I welcome the reminder to live right now and love right now, in the only moment that I am guaranteed to have.

But, I didn't cry until today. Ms. Walker's intention to save her husband the pain of having "extra" checks printed with both of their names struck me as inexpressibly sad.

I hope both you and she (and all the other passengers on the roller coaster) will go right out and buy tons of new underwear, trash bags, bathing suits, and monogrammed everything.

Sent by Trish Stewart | 3:19 PM ET | 09-13-2006

Leroy —

Buy the pants you want, not the ones on sale. All of us, could get our "number" called at any time. My sister died at 21, no warning, no final goodbyes, just died. Life is too short, so for Godsakes, buy the pants, maybe a music CD you would enjoy, and live in the moment. You've got chutzpah, people cheering for you and Gods speed.

Sent by Laura | 3:30 PM ET | 09-13-2006

In early June my dad, who lives in North Carolina, hurt his back at work. He continued working through the pain and by late June noticed that the pain seemed to have moved to the opposite side. He figured he was compensating and walking crooked. He went to a chiropractor, took Aleve and was finally sent for an MRI in early July. He was told that he had cancer in his bones. Subsequent testing found that he had stage four lung cancer Adeno Carcenoma. It had spread to his hip, back, shoulder and skull. His doctor remained oddly optimistic telling my dad it was "treatable." I think initially my dad thought "treatable" meant "curable." Anyway he underwent radiation which made him horribly ill and went back into the hospital dehydrated one week later. He began Chemo that same week. He was moved last Thursday to a rehab facility. Just when you think it cant get any worse... he developed a gaping, oozing, wound on his back. Today he was moved back to the hospital where he was seen by an infectious disease specialist and surgeon. They decided he needed surgery to clean the wound. It turns out he has necrotizing facitis... the "flesh eating" disease. He has a 50/50 chance of surviving the night and needs two additional surgeries to make sure the doctors got all the disease and that it hasn't spread. If he survives he cannot have any additional chemo.

I don't know why I'm writing about this... just how much can one person endure? He's been so strong through this whole thing and he was working and completely fine and healthy just four months ago. He has deteriorated so quickly... it doesn't seem fair. He doesn't deserve this... nobody does.

Sent by Kelly Rimshnick | 3:34 PM ET | 09-13-2006

Hello! I'm French and I'm reading your blog everyday. It's great! Thank you.

Sent by Karine | 3:41 PM ET | 09-13-2006

Buy the pants! It's amazing the head games we play with ourselves.

About two weeks before I was diagnosed in August 2002 I washed my truck. It was nearly a year before I felt well enough to worry about washing my truck again. Then I couldn't bring myself to do it. In my head I thought I'd wash it for my one year anniversary. The following year I moved my truck wash date to my two year anniversary. Its four years now and I haven't washed my truck yet. This past August I decided to go for August 2007 when I'll hit five years and pass the magic statistical survival point.

Buy new pants. If you post that you've bought new pants I will wash my truck. And my friends, family and neighbors will be grateful to you!

Sent by Joan Marie | 3:51 PM ET | 09-13-2006

I too haven't bought new clothes since April. But I agree with you, so if I can get the strength I think I'll go shopping too. Your articles mean so much to me.

Sent by Mary Scruggs | 4:39 PM ET | 09-13-2006

Will the show Living With Cancer be aired again or come out on video. My 25 year old son has metastatic non small cell carcinoma with an unknown primary. We were not able to watch the show on the 6th but would like to see it. Can you help us?
Thank you

Sent by Judy Voller | 12:28 PM ET | 05-23-2007