I didn't get to read yesterday's blog until this am, as yesterday I woke up seven minutes before I was to be leaving for work, and my day started as though I'd been shot from a cannon.

I listened to it this morning, and read about your day yesterday, too. By now, you've probably gotten the results of your scans. It goes without saying that all of us who read your blog are hoping that the news was good, or at least not bad. My only advice for stressful times like this is to check your breathing when youre feeling expecially anxious. I know that it may sound silly, but when were very anxious, we tend to go into "fight or flight" mode, and to breathe only to the tops of our lungs. If you intentionally do deep abdominal breathing, it'll help the panic or anxiety to lessen, as it's worsened by insufficient oxygen. A bit technical, but I hope helpful. I'm on tenterhooks for your news.

Sent by Nancy K.Clark | 9:44 AM ET | 10-24-2006

I have written to you before. Your battle touches my heart as my husband of three months was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer. We lived our marriage through the three years of his dying. You mention that visualization doesn't work now but rethink that. One way or another you are going on, to where, is your decision. I am a Christian. I say that not in the "HEY! LOOK AT ME, I GO TO CHURCH" way. I say that in the Maya Angelou sense as one who has suffered and found peace, one who has made mistake, bad ones, sinned and been forgiven. I was lost but now have purpose and been found by our Lord. I am not bragging of success, I am saying I failed and will continue to. And need God to clean up after me, I am weak and need the strength of the Lord to carry on. Thank you for sharing this intimate precious process with so many.

Sent by Janet S. Lahm | 9:51 AM ET | 10-24-2006

I'm envious of your trust that your doctor will call as soon as he hears something. I had a pet scan on May 23 and assumed that everything was fine until I went for a regular appointment in the middle of June and found out the news was not good. I am now trying to be proactive and am even going to ask that a copy of the report be sent to me. I'm in social work and here the file belongs to the client surely there are similar protocols if one pushes it. I've scheduled a scan shortly before I leave on a trip and really would like the results before I leave whether they are good or bad.

I know the waiting is hard but you know many people are waiting with you and sharing as much positive energy as they can muster. Take a deep breath!

Sent by Dona | 9:53 AM ET | 10-24-2006

When I sat down to pray for you yesterday, I just said your name and immediately felt as if I was pulled into a clear river of energy — like moving water. It was the combined prayers of all of us. I have only had this sensation a few times — most of my prayers are contemplative and not sensational, yet wonderful. I know that whatever the results of your tests, there were so many people praying for you yesterday that you will be fine — ultimately fine — no matter the outcome of the tests. Surrender to that conviction even if you only have brief moments of believing it, it is true.

Sent by D.B.C. | 10:38 AM ET | 10-24-2006

I am waiting anxiously with all of your blog friends to hear the results of your tests, Leroy. While I wait, I am contemplating your comments about cheese whiz — because that's the only way I can get my Golden Retrievers to take their medications (I bury the pills in a bright orange blob). They think they've gone to heaven. Come to think of it, one of my dogs was born in Philadelphia — so this must be in his genes!

We are with you, today as always.

Sent by Suzanne | 10:42 AM ET | 10-24-2006

Dona,

Excellent post. I for one, not only get medical and lab reports ordered immediately (Kaiser Individual Subscriber, Ugh), I also get all the imaging films. I control them.

You're so right about following up if they don't call you. For god sake, if something needs explaining after you read through them, ask, don't assume.

Leroy, were all praying for good news. Keeping all 20 crossed.

Sent by Laura | 10:43 AM ET | 10-24-2006

I am anxiously waiting with you. You are right, the waiting is the worst.

Sent by Cathy Sewell | 11:27 AM ET | 10-24-2006

I sat in wait at my oncologist's office on Monday as well. MRI of the brain. My news was good this time. I know the waiting is awful. I feel like I am playing a real life game of "Don't Break the Camels Back." I hope your camel stands strong as this straw is put into your basket. The apprehension of waiting for bad news sure does take a toll on you. Good luck.

Sent by Karen | 2:57 PM ET | 10-24-2006

Leroy, what can I say? I guess we'll just wait and see...

Sent by Meredith P. | 2:59 PM ET | 10-24-2006

Waiting is always the worst part of any process as you know all too well, Leroy. You and yours are in my thoughts and prayers.

Sent by Molly | 10:57 AM ET | 10-26-2006

My Jim always knew the scans were bad from the technician's facial expression.

When we went to the oncologist for the news, she would first ask us all about our social life first. That's a real bad sign!

Sent by Helen Drab | 11:00 AM ET | 10-26-2006

Larry,

Thanks for the cheesesteak update. Yes, Cheez-Whiz ... pretty scary stuff. Provolone sounds nice ... even saying the word is sort of comforting. So ... what other favorite foods are you taking great pleasure in these days?

And what else do you enjoy more fully now? I do not have cancer. My friend does. I go with her to all of her chemo appointments. I must say I thought I always appreciated the little things in life, but now I find I savor them even more. Bites of delectable food. Music that makes me smile or dance or sing. We all are dying. Actually, that is what makes life meaningful and precious. If our time was unlimited, how lazy would we get about living it? How much would we take for granted? I hope you have a really great dinner tonight ... with dessert.

Sent by Sandi | 11:40 AM ET | 10-26-2006

Leroy, I am waiting with you as well ... I looked yesterday and again tonight. We just got back from one of my husband's oncology visits with good news — he is now five years out and on an annual recheck. Bbut I remember all too well when we waited with high anxiety. Thinking of you and wishing all the best.

Sent by Terry | 11:44 AM ET | 10-26-2006

Hi,

It is strange that I feel compelled to write to you, and I don't know what to write. I have helped someone dear to me go through the process that you are. It was something I was always terrified to be a part of, but it was something that I would do over and over again. Even in the toughest times, sharing your life with others is a beautiful thing. Thanks for that.

Sent by John W. | 11:48 AM ET | 10-26-2006

Good evening Leroy,

I was hoping that I would return home from work today to find that you had good news to share with us. That you didn't write today finds me filled with anxiety. I want you to be healed miraculously, so that I can hold onto hope that I continue to remain cancer-free. I don't mean to have self-interest in my well-wishes for you, but it seems it can't be helped. I looked forward to hearing from you about your response to the news of your scans. Now the silence seems foreboding. My thoughts and prayers remain with you as I end my day.

Sent by Sharon L. Cilono | 11:53 AM ET | 10-26-2006