Good morning Leroy,

I was just expressing the same sentiment to my girlfriend yesterday. If we were in an accident we at least would have someone to blame, then sue. And then we could at least not have the huge financial hardships that come along with this disease. People always tell me to go out and do what I want and have fun. I know that they mean it in the nicest way possible. But that cost money. I have to change my entire lifestyle do to job loss. So I can not keep up with our friends. So I feel like I am losing them because they are able to continue with the life we used to have. They are making judgements on how I am choosing to spend my money. So Leroy you are right, we blame the people closest to us... then we get to feel bad about how we feel.

Sent by Karen | 10:47 AM ET | 11-10-2006

I've been in this fight with breast cancer since March 2004. I was free from cancer for only five months, when it returned last February...as a local recurrence and mets in the supraclaviculars glands. Since February I have gone through six different chemos with no good results. I am now on doxorubicin with liposomal. I just had my first treatment two weeks ago. I have to wait two more treatments to see if it's working (every 28 days). As you well said, waiting is the most difficult part of all of it. I have other combinations of drugs to try if this one doesn't work.

I am writing you from the Dominican Republic where I live. I have been treated this last stage at the MD Anderson in Houston, Texas, but return home for treatments.

My sister who lives in San Diego, Calif. sent me you web site, and it has been a blessing and inspiration for me, because everything you say, I identified compleately with — it is like I am the one writing.

Thank you. You really are making the difference in this war against the cancer.

What I would like from you is to mention the kind of drugs you have been given, as you mentioned the Avanstin, for example, for us to compare with what we are having.

Thank you and God Bless you.

This is a day-to-day battle, and every day I feel well, I live my day happy and doing things around, feeling blessed all the way.

Keep up the good work, and again you are making the difference. I feel so good when I can talk about all this to my friends and family. Is something I have to live with and I celebrate live.

Sent by Vielka Garcia | 11:20 AM ET | 11-10-2006

I appreciate your remarks, Leroy, on how hard this is on caregivers and family. I know my husband gets angry about "his" cancer and what it's doing to him. I am both sympathetic, and pretty angry, too — as is our 13 year old daughter. On a bad day, it can be pretty tough. Each of us has ample reason to be mad/sad, and none of us may be much in the mood to comfort each other or similar. Then you look at other, seemingly normal families taking vacations or just having the luxury of normal family issues and want to scream!

BTW, I don't think you're indulging in a pity party at all. I'm grateful to see your and others candid remarks about how hard this stuff is. I know full well that you and most all cancer victims/families have a tough row to hoe. Too bad if others can't bear to see us crack once in awhile.

Sent by Teri | 11:33 AM ET | 11-10-2006

Good morning Leroy,

I've been dealing with some of these thoughts and feelings this week. I have been struggling with frustration, the little sister of anger. My frustrations come from not being able to "do something" to change my situation. I have always tacked obstacles, challenges and adventures with calm determination. One step forward, adjusting the plans to fit the circumstances, but not giving up.

Six years ago I had emergency back surgery. The doctors told me later that they were amazed that I was walking. I never thought that I couldn't walk again. I now, hike, ski, ride horses, fall down and live a normal life. Now I have a cancer for which the 5 year survival rates are harsh (only 11 percent make it). I can't see a way to change this situation but I won't let that stop me from loving life.

I think as Americans our hero stories are of individuals who overcome adversity. The determination and focus of the pilot that lands the plane without engines or the hiker that survives a fall and hobbles out of the wilderness with a shattered leg is very similar to the cancer survivor's journey through radiation and chemo. You take it one step at a time; focus on the getting through the day, the week, the next treatment. Yet the story doesn't end there for us. After we are through with the treatments we may still not be out of the woods. Some of us are caught in a snare that we can't extract ourselves out of through shear will power. So I'm thinking that I need to redefine what survival means to me

Against my doctors advice I spent the last weekend riding horses, riding all day long. Oddly, I feel no pain when riding and, since Im a bit unsteady walking well due to lingering neuropathy, to be mobile and moving with grace in the outdoors was a hoot. My husband commented how wonderful it was to see me smiling all weekend. Joy does that — joy makes the whole organism feel alive and well.

Having cancer means that each day I live is a mini survival story. And if I live that life with joy, that is my victory and that may be my gift to others.

Sent by Susan M. | 12:22 PM ET | 11-10-2006

Hi Leroy,

I stayed with you in N.Y. with my sister Jenny... we laughed a lot. Remember the subway ride where the two boys wanted the little brother to leave so they kept saying to him "phone home?" Jen and I took over your space... my first and only trip to N.Y. city (I have lived in Boston for 16 years). What have you done with your animation guys...? So cool. I hope you are still creating them. I am finishing up massage therapy school in Feb. 2007. Having been a care giver for two people (my stepfather and best friend, Karen Fritchey) I became inspired to work with pain magement for the cancer patient. Your blog is a tremendous reminder that you are Leroy and the cancer is just a side bar. Keep on keeping on. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Sent by Wendy Sterling Mclean | 12:42 PM ET | 11-13-2006

Six months ago I found out I had cancer — third stage breast cancer. For me it was a bit of a shock since I have spent most of my life facilitating healing in others. Yet I had felt exhausted the last year and had been through a very sad breakup and knew my body's immune system was very weakened by all I had been through the last years. I wasn't using all the many tools I shared with others to deal with trauma and emotional loss etc.

I don't know you at all but I wanted to share my point of view, and I could be way off where anyone but myself is concerned, but I believe I am the creator of much of my reality and that this cancer was a result of being very run down and not taking care of me most of the years I was raising seven kids on my own.

I know that even if I decide to continue with chemo which for now I have decided to stop, this cancer will return if I do not take some part of the responsibility of the disease and really transform my life on all fronts. It is my focus now to get my immune system powerfully healthy once again so it can do its work and fight the cancer cells into submission. It is within my body's ability to heal itself when given all it needs. For me that means healthy eating regimen, meditation, guided imagery, Chinese medicines and acupuncture, chi gong and lots of rest.

I may have to go back to chemo but for now I am working this from many other angles.

I have enjoyed your blog, but for me, the piece that is missing is my part and I do believe I have one in my case. I know that is hard to accept for most and maybe for them, like little kids it is not the case but for me I do feel a part of its creation and I am having a great deal of luck in its uncreation.

I feel better and stronger and healthier than most of those I know in the same place relying on doctors and saying it is beyond their control and has nothing to do with them. They are kind of victims who live in fear or and hope.

Sent by Zipporah Stein | 12:46 PM ET | 11-13-2006

This is a shout-out to Karen, above. And an "amen." For this cancer family one of the attendant problems is absolutely financial. As with Karen, my husband lost his ability to work two years ago — this meant no income. He was freelance. Eventually, we made it through the disability process so that now gets some money from the government, but it's about one third of what he used to make. So, in addition to the roller coaster of cancer treatments and their physical and mental hardships, we have ever growing debt. And, yeah, people tell you to have fun and live life to the fullest but when you're busy paying high co-pays for treatment, paying taxis for the patient to get to treatment (there are NO cheap/free car services and nobody handy to drive), paying more for food because the patients tastes and nutritional needs are beyond the hamburger casserole level, well that just adds to the stress.

And the guilt this caregiver feels when she has to say "no" to certain of her husband's desires is profound. And equally awful when saying "no" routinely to the kid. We no longer have any 401K (not that it was huge), college fund or safety net of any kind. And there's nowhere to downsize to and keep my job. Sorry for the vent, but I just had to echo the concerns that Karen expressed, and what I'm sure many patients and their families feel in the face of a life-changing cancer.

Sent by Teri | 12:49 PM ET | 11-13-2006

You know I didn't really feel angry or frustrated when I was actively undergoing treatment. Perhaps I was too busy, I don't know. I was fortunate that even though I had stage two colon cancer, I didn't have a lot of side effects and was able to continue working.

Frustration didn't really hit until later. Now that I'm two years out from chemo and surgery I feel frustrated. It's mostly waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak. That and dealing with crummy HMO care.

I agree with what you are saying though. We live in a cause and effect world. Sometimes the causes are outside of our control, like genetics. Other times the causes and effects don't seem to go together, like not eating your veggies and getting cancer.

How do you deal with your anger and frustration? I find comfort in friends and religion, but I know it's not for everybody.

Sent by Crawford | 1:16 PM ET | 11-13-2006

Dear Leroy,

I have been reading your blog for a while now and it has helped me quite a bit, I went through a almost a year of cancer treatment, chemo, operation, and radiation, and I wound up blaming myself for not going to the doctor soon enough, and various other things, but today's blog made me think more of my sons situation, he did not have cancer but a stroke, he was 42, and I can't get past the fact that he doesn't blame himself, but everyone else does for one reason or another because was so young and this caught them all by surprise, so it is not just cancer that people play the blame game.

Thanks so much for your courage and your blog.

Sent by Linda Churchwell | 1:23 PM ET | 11-13-2006

Hi Leroy,

You left out one big person we can often time hold to blame — ourselves. How many of us with cancer have second guessed our own actions of the past, our diet, or abuses of youth and perceived immortality. Although I too have expressed anger in unhealthy ways to the people closest to me, depression and self-loathing over my past, haunts me more often. I'm thinking this is common. How about you?

Sent by Terri Dilts | 1:51 PM ET | 11-13-2006

I enjoy the columns immensely. The thoughts help to become more introspective about our own "disease." Suffering from depression one doesn't know when you will be hit by intense self-loathing about your incompatibilities with a normal thought process, and the tears about your loved ones not understanding. Also, there is a lot of guilt when you have blessings and the love of your family, but it isn't enough. Medication is sometimes just a cloak around us, delaying the inevitable. Other people wonder why you don't get better, after all, there are worse diseases and they have been overcome. I especially hate the feeling in the morning when looking forward to the day would be natural, but it's almost a fear to venture out and try to cope.

Sent by Terri DeVoe | 4:53 PM ET | 11-27-2006