There is an expression, "If the only prayer one ever prays is 'thank you,' it is enough."

What I got from your blog today is that however difficult your life has become since your cancer reasserted itself, you are still able to be grateful for the blessings in your life. That's wonderful, and not easy to achieve. I know that, as you've described before, because you've spent so many years as a journalist all over the world, and have seen what you have, you've been given the gift of gratitude in the face of illness when others couldn't muster it.

I've found that when I'm able to be conscious of the good things in my life my home, my friends, my work, the trees, birds, pets... any number of things, that my life is much happier. What we focus on expands. If we focus on what's good in life, it expands, and we have more blessings. The opposite is true, too.

I'm so happy that you are able to remain conscious of the presence of all of the things that you value about your life that are still present. I hope that none of us ever loose that ability in the face of the adversity that is cancer.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 11:41 AM ET | 10-06-2006

Leroy,

I loved your answer, you are alright and the human spirit is far more resilient than many think. You still have a quality of life, and are living it. It is a hard concept to explain to people.

I have copied out many of your posts to use with the people I visit with as a Hospital Chaplain. You are able to express difficult concepts, with grace. Thank you for continuing what must sometimes be difficult for you. You are adding value to many, many lives. And I believe teaching many professionals how to care for their patients.

Sent by Elizabeth Hendrixq | 11:44 AM ET | 10-06-2006

Leroy,

Believe me. I feel your pain. The Buddha, after meditating for a considerable period of time, came to the conclusion that one thing that mankind everywhere has in common is suffering. He went on to found the religion of Buddhism in order to help men escape the suffering of the world. Many other religions believe that this suffering is the wrath of God. Maybe it is, but then, maybe it is not.

When you comment that, "And I know that it's an attack that will probably, ultimately, be successful," are you saying that that is your fate so why should you fight like hell or fight at all to change it? Is following conventional medical practices enough when it is well-known that they offer no cure?

I am reminded of the game of chess although I don't know a lot about playing it. But isn't it true that when the king is threatened or "under attack" that any and every move on the chess board MUST be in defense of the King?

Should this same principle carry over to our "game of life?"

When a chess piece on the board has the ability to save the king, mustn't the king accept its move? Likewise, when a fellow human thinks that he can offer help shouldn't that person at least be interested?

Sent by Edward L. Floyd | 11:50 AM ET | 10-06-2006

I am all right too, even though my life has changed. Unless I show the scar no one knows that I had cancer. Hardly anyone even notices the infusion pump for my chemo. People wonder why I don't do the things I used to, but I just don't have the energy. For forty years I was a cabinet maker but I haven't made a particle of sawdust since my surgery and the start of chemo for stage 4 colon cancer.

My family still love me and in fact the cancer has increased communication with my sisters as I have encouraged them to be tested also. The grandkids are put off by the pump but still come to me between treatments. My children have become more protective of me and my wife is having a hard time adjusting to the changes in me. I have a job that is not too physically taxing and the mental stimulation is good for me, they allow me to work from home on days that I don't feel well and during my chemo treatments I work at the clinic, sometimes.

Yes my life has changed, I haven't been hiking or fishing since my surgery and I miss that, but I've discovered that there are a lot of people who care about me, so something's lost and something's gained. In this life nothing is free, every thing costs something and the people are far more important than the things, so as the Italians say, "Vive Bene, Spesso Lamore, Di rsata Molto." In other words, live life while you have it and enjoy the ride.

Sent by John Clark | 11:54 AM ET | 10-06-2006

I had a bad reaction to a drug a month ago, and ended up in the hospital for the first time since my mastectomy in 2001. After that adventure, both my HMO and the hospital called with those ridiculous patient satisfaction surveys. Both of them asked me how my health was overall. How am I supposed to answer that on a scale of one to five or whatever? I am being treated for metastatic breast cancer, but other than that, I feel pretty well, most of the time. I am awaiting my latest PET scan, and then will have to wait for the results.

Sent by Ruth | 2:34 PM ET | 10-10-2006

Mr. Seivers

I am wondering how you made the decision to undergo chemotherapy. Was it the expectation of life/years extension? If so, what was the expected extension? DId you attain it? Was it the expectation of improved quality of life absent of pain? What was the prognosis of life expectancy without chemo?

I am 50-years-old. Having lost my mother to cancer when I was 19, and going through my father's recent bout with prostate cancer, I am always interested in individual battles with decision points concerning cancer.

Bless you, good luck, and thank you.

Sent by Gary | 2:36 PM ET | 10-10-2006

There's a line that came to mind in reading your post today — "Life, however fragile, is a gift, and we in this community of caring and sharing celebrate that gift." If only it didn't take crises that threaten life for us to recognize that simple principle. We should live life grateful for every moment of cognition, even in the many dark moments we all endure. My Stage IV cancer has given me that message, over and over, and in a strange way, I am grateful for it, if not for what else it has hauled into my life in the form of fear and pain. Thank you for your messages to all of us.

Sent by Sandra | 2:38 PM ET | 10-10-2006

Dear Leroy,

I listen to you on the radio and I must say you have to keep your spirit high! Yes, you are alright regardless how you feel at a given time.

May you find your strength.

Sent by Arzu Karimova | 2:45 PM ET | 10-10-2006

We recently had a "thank you" service at our church, as our way of expressing our gratitude to the folks who have supported us during this whirlwind journey through cancer. I spoke about being blessed beyond measure. As you noted, I wouldn't have chosen this journey with breast cancer for myself or my family. In fact, I tried very hard to prevent illnesses! But this is the journey I am on, and I intend to focus on the blessings of each day. I have grown closer to family and friends, realized the priorities in my life, especially relationships, and to see the joy in each day. Again, you have so eloquently expressed my heart thoughts. Thank you.

Sent by Karen | 2:47 PM ET | 10-10-2006

When life gives you lemons, makes lemondade! I've just returned from my husband's 5th chemo-embolization treatment on his liver. I had breast cancer last year. Have never asked why. Wouldn't do me any good. But know that you are doing so much good in sharing your thoughts with others, being a role model of strength. Sharing is so beneficial, as I share on my own personal blog. Keep up the good work.

Sent by Jane | 2:56 PM ET | 10-10-2006

As a person with cancer myself, it seems to me that Edward's question reveals a misunderstanding about life. We are not just "all right" when things are going well, we are happy, well fed, and in good relationship with others. No one ever promised us a life of ease, yet I think many of us come to think that it's how life should be. Yes, my life also was easier before cancer, but since, there have been amazing insights for me, and I've been the beneficiary of loving gestures from many, many people. I don't like to think of "blessings" from cancer, yet I know they have been there. And none of that means that I have given up on life, on continuing to live as fully and as long as possible.

Rather, things are "all right" or even good when we are living our lives fully, as fully as we can give whatever physical, emotional, or mental limitations we are dealing with. And, Leroy, when I read your comment that the "cancer attack" will likely be successful, I hear that you are in touch with the reality of your diagnosis and disease. Not that you don't have hope, because I've been reading your blog since the beginning, and I know that you do have hope, but that you recognize the seriousness of the situation. It's not the same as giving into fate, or failing to fight for your health and continued life.

Thanks so much for this post. For those who struggle with our/their own cancer, or for those who don't know they can live a full life even with a cancer diagnosis, what you have to say is very important.

Sent by Lynne Dahlborg | 3:43 PM ET | 10-10-2006

My husband just returned from rehab after a broken hip and Parkinson's. People keep asking about his spirits. I just say, "Up and down like the rest of us." I think they want to hear happy talk.

Sent by Annette | 4:01 PM ET | 10-10-2006

Hello Leroy,

I am a long-time chemo nurse. I just found your blog today. I find as I work with cancer patients that I am continually amazed by how they adapt, grow, learn, and enjoy life despite the complications of cancer and its treatment. What is truly incredible is the thirst for life in whatever form it takes even when severely debilitated. There is a nursing theory called "Health as Expanding Consciousness". In a nutshell: health and disease are not a continuum rather, our present state of being is our pattern. We just need to be mindful of that pattern. Your blog speaks volumes about this very human process. Thank you for sharing with the world. My patients have taught me this lesson over and over again: each day holds something sweet. We just need to be observant. Yes, you are all right.

Sent by Sue Cabriales | 4:06 PM ET | 10-10-2006

Leroy — you are such a part of my life line. I read your column everyday. Thank you for sharing your experiences and your thoughts for the future. You have helped me in so many ways with my own fight against stage 3 inflammatory breast cancer.

Sent by Ellen Macaulay | 4:11 PM ET | 10-10-2006

Thanks Leroy, thanks Nancy, thanks Elizabeth, thanks Edward, thanks John!!! You guys rock!

Sent by Meredith | 4:51 PM ET | 10-10-2006

This post made me think of my wife, who died in May. Your point of view sounded so much like hers. Life doesn't stop when someone gets cancer, nor should it.

Thanks so much for your work on this blog. I wish my wife and I had had a resource like this during our fight against cancer, but I am heartened to know that others have a guide to the many heart wrenching issues cancer patients and their loved ones face. I hope you'll collect these writings as a book sometime. There are so many books about dealing with cancer, but I haven't seen any that express a first-person viewpoint so beautifully and honestly.

Sent by Michael Workman | 5:15 PM ET | 10-10-2006