Leroy, as my brother and I say on the phone ... consider yourself hugged.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 9:44 AM ET | 10-05-2006

Dear Leroy,

Your daily words are oxygen for the soul — thank you. I have only told a few people very close to me of my situation. At work, I have only confided in a few — and it is phenomenal how such a simple phrase as "I have a brain tumor" can change people and their interactions with you. Having always been an A-type personality and a complete control freak, there is nothing more frustrating than the feeling of being "out of control." And then there is the gossip, the stares, the glances.

I am truly blessed to be working as a teacher with some of the most amazing treasures in a private school in QLD Australia. Some days an odd comment will fly from their mouths — "Miss, you don't look very well today." Sometimes I have to stop myself from blurting out, "You know, you are spot on there Max — don't be too concerned though, it's only a brain tumour!" But they don't need to know the harsh realities of life, do they? Surely they are entitled to some remaining innocence? At times I feel selfish for continuing to teach. What happens if one day I don't come to school? What happens if I have a seizure right in front of them? What if ... ? But for me, the school, the children are my daily oxygen. They take me to a place where I can forget, even if it is just for just a short time the journey I currently tread.

So has it changed the relationship between the others who do know?

The Principal (who is the best boss anyone could ask for) constantly worries that my workload is too much. She will continually ask, "How is the chemo? Have you finished radium yet?" And more often than not, she will ask it at the most inappropriate times when others are right in hearing distance. She asks "Don't you get tired?" Yes. Yes I do. Some days it is such an effort to get out of bed. I set the alarm 2 hours earlier just to get myself in some sort of shape to face the day. But what is the alternative? I refuse to lie down. I refuse to let this thing interfere in my life more than it already has.

There is the teacher who very rarely asks how things are going — but without fail complains about everything possible whenever she talks with me. Sometimes I want to scream at her to put it in perspective — but who am I to judge? Who am I to say what is worthy of complaining? Just because I have a tumor doesn't make her issues any less important.

And then there is the colleague/friend who will listen when I need her to but on the whole treats me as a "normal" human being. "Cross one bridge at a time. And when you need to, I?ll be there ready and waiting to cross it with you."

And then there is the male teacher that I have always liked, who knows there is something not quite right but just says, "I am here when you want me to hear." I fear that if he knew, our friendship would definitely change, and any chance of a relationship when I DO BEAT THIS SLIPPERY SUCKER will be history.

People do change. But so too have I. I know they all so desperately want to know that everything is going to be all right. But how can I assure them of something I don't even know myself? I am encouraged each and every day by the words:

"Grant us the serenity to accept things we cannot change, Courage to change the things we can, And the wisdom to know the difference."

With this in mind, I will think bigger, I will be bolder and I will fight harder. Nothing will break my spirit — not even a slippery sucker called a tumor!!

Thank you for exposing your innermost thoughts and feelings. I along with so many others hear them loud and clear. You are an inspiration.

Sent by S.R. | 9:47 AM ET | 10-05-2006

You are right, that is the hardest question that is asked of cancer patients. I for one hate that question. I seem to receive the question "So how is your cancer doing?" like it is a bad dog of mine. I want to reply, "I hope it is doing nothing. I hope all that nasty chemo and radiation killed those buggers. But to tell the truth, we just don't know. We hope we get it all, now we just wait."

I was talking to my 7- and 5-year-old sons about fear and doing things we don't like. I mentioned how Mommy didn't like to go to chemo and I was a little scared. Then my 7-year-old asked me if I ever have to do chemo again and if the cancer was all gone. That was a very painful question from my son. I answered him very honestly. "Mommy hopes I never have to face this again. If it does come back, I may have to do chemo again. We need to pray that it never does and the strength to handle if it does." My son then surprised me and prayed then and there to ask God that Mommy's cancer never comes back.

Sent by Janis | 9:55 AM ET | 10-05-2006

Leroy,

Please don't take what I am about to say the wrong way. But, how can you say that you are "all right" when your body is critically under attack? Or, do you realize that it is under attack?

That great Swiss psychiatrist wrote in his book Psychological Types speaking on the Extraverted Type, "... his normality must also depend essentially on whether he takes account of his subjective needs and requirements, and this is just his weak point, for the tendency of his type is so outer-directed that even the most obvious of all subjective facts, the condition of his own body, receives scant attention. The body is not sufficiently objective or outside, so that the satisfaction of elementary needs which are indispensable to physical well-being is no longer given its due. The body accordingly suffers, to say nothing of the psyche. The extravert is usually unaware of this latter fact, but it is all the more apparent to his household. He feels his loss of equilibrium only when it announces itself in abnormal body sensations."

Leroy, I don't know the meaning of life. But I do know that there is this tremendous desire in plants and animals that life continues. Try to harm someone's children and you will see what I mean.

Hang in there, and let's not lose the desire to live. My definition of real intelligence is the ability to survive.

Again, please do not take what I am saying the wrong way. I have devoted the last six years of my life to find out why we get sick. And, you did say that no topic, no matter how painful, would be off-limits.

Sent by Edward L. Floyd | 12:13 PM ET | 10-05-2006

As a 21-year-old college student, your blog makes me step back and think not only about my life but how I interact with others in my day-to-day world. I hope you have lots of really supportive and caring people in your life to make life's rough spots a little easier. Thank you.

Sent by Amy | 12:22 PM ET | 10-05-2006

Thank you for reminding us who do not have a serious illness to be forever grateful for our health. I cannot express to you the inspiration, strength and honesty you convey in your NPR commentaries.

You have helped me keep my own issues and trivial problems in perspective and remind me to enjoy each day, not to take for granted my life, spouse or children. Take care and all the best.

Sent by Chris | 12:30 PM ET | 10-05-2006

I just read today's comments. I have not read through your entire blog, but I would like to ask some questions that may have been discussed earlier. Are you exploring any nutritional and alternative medicine avenues? From my reading on the subject, it seems that there are many supplements that can help your body much better weather chemotherapy and help with your immune system that takes a beating from chemo.

Sent by Cynthia Blanche | 12:32 PM ET | 10-05-2006

Your strength truly inspires me.

Sent by Alice | 11:25 AM ET | 10-06-2006

If there is one thing I do not want to ask, it's my prognosis. I have metastatic breast cancer and just finished chemo but at no point, do I want to know what the statistics say. I believe the mind controls the body and I want to live one day at a time and not worry about the future.

Like you, I have had Avastin also and the tumors in my lung have disappeared. Bless you Leroy for giving strength and hope to all of us who go through this difficult journey.

Sent by Aisha | 11:37 AM ET | 10-06-2006

I feel so lucky that you are writing about your feelings, fears, and hopes, as they mirror mine. As a librarian that deals with information and facing the cancer and radiation therapy, I chose to put out the information side of what I have been experiencing on my blog (http://cheekylibrarian.blogspot.com), with the hope that anyone else facing head, oral, and neck cancer could find information useful to their road ahead. Thanks to your writing talents through your blog, I gladly link them to the also-important feeling side of having cancer. I am so grateful for your writing! When I was first diagnosed with the cancer this summer, I doubted that I would find anything of value with the discovery that I was harboring this fugitive. Now that I am on the other side of my first round of treatment, the most valuable things I have found aren't things - they are my fellow supporters, survivors and fighters such as you. Yes, you are all right, and you are doing a dang good job being you!

Sent by Teresa Hartman | 11:39 AM ET | 10-06-2006

I like the person who asks "hows your health?"

What do I say to that one?

Sent by Meredith P. | 11:55 AM ET | 10-06-2006

The saddest thing about stories like these is that they are so unnecessary. Does no one realize yet after all these years, that animal protein is the biggest reason for cancer? Read The China Study by T. Colin Campbell or Diet for a New America by John Robbins or Plant Roots by Rex Bowlby. Stop animal protein, cancer stops growing.

Flurode inhibits two mechanisms that could help the body cure cancer also — DNA repair enzyme and white blood cell migration, and over 100 other enzyme inhibitions. Read Fluoride the Aging Factor by Dr. John Yiamouyiannis.

But does anyone stop drinking fluoridated water, or brushing with fluoridated toothpaste? Does anyone say stop eating animal products?

Sent by Kerry Jorgensen | 4:09 PM ET | 10-10-2006