Yes, you said the words that I have come to know. Cancer sucks. But the people who touch our lives are angels. Keep going forward. You have such a good support system. And always, keep blogging for us.

Sent by Jane | 9:59 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Have to say, I admire you Leroy Sievers. I've been through this with friends and family. No one faced it head on like you have.

Enjoy Maui!

Sent by Patti Lincoln | 10:02 AM ET | 12-18-2006

To Leroy:

Untold energy-giving crowds of us are WITH YOU. I hope you feel our surge of well wishes. Try to go to Hawaii, to restore some energy and enjoy feeling a surge of wellbeing. We, who are with you in spirit, salute you.

Sent by Kathleen Hale | 10:04 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Do not believe all the doctors say!

My Father lived four years with bone cancer after a surgery removed six inches of his spine. You are the best judge of your health. You are the captain of your destiny. Have fun now, not later. I admire this in your testiment, and leave religon aside.

Leave this world with no preconceptions and let yourself be surprised. Just live a good life — it's easy. Don't hurt!

We all die! You will not be alone in this! I can promise you that!

Sent by David Swonger | 10:34 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Leroy,

I was on the home page for NPR and before reading further I immediately clicked on the headline, When a Trip to Hawaii is Bad News. I've been to Hawaii recently for the first time and had the most wonderful/spiritual experience there. So, definitely I wanted to know what this article was about. I was moved by your article and I just want to say, thank you for putting my life back into perspective. It's so easy to get caught up in the rush of the holidays and not take time to think about how precious and fragile life really is. Thank you for this gift.

In return I want to say, try to keep a positive outlook and keep your family and friends close. When you decide to visit Hawaii, please consider checking into the couple of places which I felt made my Hawaii experience, one I'll never forget. Visit the Web site OneLoveOneSpirit — Phillipa will take you on a wonderful custom dolphin boat swim excursion. She also has an interesting life changing story to share as well. The site Gemini-Awakening — Kathryn does a wonderful relaxing river rock massage and her husband a riveting spiritual volcano tour. The last must is the bed and breakfast we stayed at on the Big Island. It was absolutely gorgeous. Staying there gave me the experience of what it would be like to live there on the Big Island. Something you can't get from any of the hotels.

I hope you have a wonderful visit to Hawaii with your family. Mine was unforgettable.

Sent by Tammy Reinhard | 10:40 AM ET | 12-18-2006

I'll be following you whether you board the plane for Maui or not — wishing you the strength to continue the battle. Hawaii could just offer you a much-needed respite and distraction from your medical routine.

I am currently living in Belgium and I can assure you that in the winter here this is not the place to go to "get-away-from-it-all!"

The best of luck making your decision.

Sent by Maris | 10:43 AM ET | 12-18-2006

I have often thought about death. Even before cancer. Why is it, I have often wondered? Why can't we embrace death the same way we embrace life? Is it because death takes away my choice? What is it I am really fearful of? I believe in God. I believe in heaven, I believe in hell and I believe in life. I think that what I am most afraid of is not being able to take control of my own death and that I will make the mistake of allowing someone or something else to make that choice for me. I am hoping when faced in this situation that I will be able embrace my death and die with dignity, my way.

Sent by Marianne Dalton | 10:47 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Mr. Sievers,

I know telling you to "hang in there" has a bit of a hollow ring to it, especially coming from someone who does not have cancer, but nothing else comes to mind. In tracking through your blog, I've followed your ups and downs and it has become somewhat personal to me. Our family's prayers and thoughts are with you.

Sent by Billy Combs | 10:49 AM ET | 12-18-2006

I'm not sure why you're not sure about the trip to Hawaii. If that's what you had hoped to do, you should do it! The Doctor did as he promised, he told you when the time was right. I'd be interested in knowing why you're hesitating?

Sent by Don Winslow | 10:50 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Dear Leroy,

I am deeply saddened by your most recent news that your condition is not improved. I applaud your courage and honesty in sharing with others how this journey with cancer has affected you and your feelings about life. Our lives are deeply enriched by your generosity of spirit and your refreshing candor. Thank you for the gift of your personal story — it inspires me to remember the mysterious fragility of all our lives.

Please know you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.

Sent by Susan Pinkerton | 10:54 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Your voice today sounded on the verge of cracking. I can only imagine how very difficult it is to say what you said, let alone think it and have to live through it. I know that you know that all who read your blog and listen to your commentaries feel a connection to you based on open communication, and for many of us, common experience.

To be told the news that you've been told is like a big bruise that never quite heals. You get punched over and over again, and eventually, you feel covered with bruises, and need to stop and rest. Hawaii seems like a good place for a rest.

I just saw Art Buchwald on CBS "Sunday Morning" yesterday, who'd been in a hospice in Washington, preparing to die from kidney failure. He got many visitors, got an award for arts and letters from the French government, and then had his kidneys resume function and resumed his column. He's no longer in hospice. Wouldn't that be a nice turn of events for you. "The reports of my death have been exaggerated". (I may be misquoting Twain there, but you get the drift.) We live in hope.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 10:56 AM ET | 12-18-2006

I couldn't agree with you more. Cancer sucks. We are with you all the way. I love you and have never met you, only through your words and wisdom.

Sent by Gail Hunsberger | 10:59 AM ET | 12-18-2006

When you must make "the decision" it will be hard on this "new" friend. I fear that my husband, Burge, is also coming to the top of that first big hill and when he talks of his death, the verbs have gone from future to present tense. I can understand when you say you are tired as he feels the same way and with each chemo change, the side effects get worse and the colon cancer continues to spread. Unfortunately, Leroy, you have become a sort of beacon in my life, and I need you to keep going... but I know cancer isn't something you can control. Please take care... you are loved by many and we respect your every decision.

Sent by Nikki | 11:02 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Your hospital sells T-shirts that say "Cancer Sucks?" I would love to have one! I must say, I never looked in our hospitals gift shop for one.

But seriously, go to Hawaii now while you can enjoy it! After I graduated from my chemo and radiation (though they had to stop the chemo before it was finished because I wasn't tolerating it), my husband and I went to the Grand Canyon together. We had a wonderful time. We were both mindful that it might be our last trip together and we made the most of it. We remembered to take pictures of each other and had others take pictures of us as a couple so there would be tangible evidence of our time together. It's much better to do it now while you can enjoy it. Now, if you still want to go back and die on the beach, that's not such a bad idea either.

Sent by Stephanie | 11:10 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Go to Hawaii! Don't go because of any other reason than to get your emotional strength back. Maybe it will give you an extra burst to prove the predictions wrong and if sadly it does not what is the downside of visiting Hawaii? Our prayers are with you!

Sent by L.J. | 11:13 AM ET | 12-18-2006

I worked with a lady that has a very aggressive cancer. It was a very short time after her first round of chemo that she got the news that there spots on her liver and lungs. She told me then that if it was the cancer, she was heading for Belize to live the rest of her life on the beach. I haven't seen her in several months. I hope and pray that she is comfortable on a beautiful beach in the end and I am proud of her for saying enough is enough. I am not sure I could be so brave if I were in her position. God bless.

Sent by Beth Van Cleave | 11:14 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Dear Leroy,

My husband (diagnosed with colon cancer, Nov. 2005) and I (diagnosed with breast cancer, April 2006) leave the Minnesota cold for Hawaii on January 10, 2007, while were feeling good. Don't know if and when you're going, but we'd love to buy you a mai tai. In any case, we hold you in our hearts and carry you with us into the sun and surf.

Sent by Pat | 11:16 AM ET | 12-18-2006

Dear Leroy,

Go quickly to Hawaii and have a great time! Create good memories and take a vacation from the cancer. Enjoy it while you can!

My husband and I went for a precious, week-long sail in August 2005 just before (but when his body was telling him) everything started spiraling downward from his inoperable, metastatic pancreatic cancer. Although he continued chemo for eight more months and lived for nine months after that sail, he never had the energy to take another trip. He also got to the point where he didn't want to be too far away from his medical team, whom he had come to rely on for more than medical reasons.

In the end, the decision to stop chemo was not an active one but more one by default. He was simply too ill to withstand it anymore and everyone, including us, recognized that.

Then, he just wanted to be home, comfortable and safe, with me and our children.

Bon Voyage and thank you for doing what you are doing. Best wishes.

Sent by Marilyn Morrissey | 12:29 PM ET | 12-18-2006

Leroy,

When I read your blog this morning I cried. This morning and actually this past weekend, my mom was having this discussion with me about her wanting to give up chemo entirely. She wants to see a couple of places as well, and she is just tired emotionally, physically.

Going to Hawaii sounds so nice. Maybe pretending that your body

is healthy and everything is OK will actually make it so.

Sent by Lisa | 1:46 PM ET | 12-18-2006

It's so very sad to hear your news. In Buddhist terms, you're facing this reality directly and with grace. In my humble human terms, your humor and equanimity is quite remarkable. All blessings to you, and I hope you can breathe in an abundance of beauty and joy with that tropical Hawaiian air.

Sent by Cheryl | 11:25 AM ET | 12-19-2006

I don't know where the appropriate time or place is, so I'm just going to come right out and say it:

Leroy, I just realized that one day I will log on and there will be no more updates. And no more the next day. Or the next day.

One thing about the internet is that it brings us in to the lives of others — only to have that link disappear without a trace.

Count me as selfish, but know that like a flesh and blood friend, I hope someone lets me know when you leave this earth.

PS. Go to Hawaii. Soon. Otherwise it's simply snow and grey and cold where we're all at.

Sent by Tina | 12:01 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Dear Leroy,

I have admired your work for years. I loved your writing in the Nightline e-mails and the respect you showed for the work of the writers and producers on the show.

I have followed your blog intermittently. Your honesty and openness are truly remarkable given the circumstances.

I am so sorry your health is so poor. I wish you only love and peace and well-being.

Sent by Julie A Heston | 12:21 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Leroy,

Paris and Lourdes trip still open: good friends, good food and wine, a little train trip to Lourdes, a nice bath in the healing springs. Healing comes in lots of ways, through others prayer (sometimes it's hard to pray when you are in the thick of it — so we pray for you!) and family and friends (and readers) who love you. We love you — our hearts and prayers are with you! We're not giving up.

Sent by Teri La Monica | 12:24 PM ET | 12-19-2006

I'm not sure how you deal with all the "advice" people give you (in this blog and elsewhere). I know they just mean well and are trying to think of something to nice say, but it seems a little presumptuous. I am impressed with your strength, courage, and patience. It is an honor to be allowed to share in your struggle. Thank you.

Sent by Rebecca | 12:28 PM ET | 12-19-2006

I understand better than most what you've been talking about in your blog posts and podcasts. My vantage point is from that of a caretaker, rather than as a survivor of cancer. I would agree with your doctor, that you should go while you are still able to enjoy Hawaii, rather than go later, when it will be more of a burden on you.

Gee and I went for a trip to Cape Cod and the Islands, which was one of the four places she wanted to visit before she died. That was in April of 2001. We both knew that it would likely be our last trip together, as her pancreatic cancer had spread too much and was no longer treatable. Two months later, she was gone.

Good luck, and cherish the time you have with your loved ones. I would invite you and your readers to visit my Web site and read about Gee.

Sent by Daniel Kim | 12:32 PM ET | 12-19-2006

As I believe you posted on Nov. 20.... "It's going to be alright. No matter what happens" I think that is true. Sending good wishes to you and yours.

Sent by Julie | 12:36 PM ET | 12-19-2006

My mom died of cancer just about six months ago. I've enjoyed reading your blog as it helps me deal with the remnants of that roller coaster ride. My mom's cancer progressed quickly... just nine months from the diagnosis to her death. That doesn't leave much time to deal with what is happening. One month before she died she was still strong enough to fly to Texas to see her grandsons third birthday. It meant so much for her to make it not only to see him but to prove that she could do it! She wouldn't have traded that experience for anything. Go to Hawaii! Don't even question it. Don't think about what it means? Sometimes we don't need to think as hard as we do... just go and simply enjoy it.

Best wishes to you and your family. Thank you for writing this blog.

Sent by Bridget | 12:58 PM ET | 12-19-2006

I can't say, "I know how you feel" but I can say that I know not to ever give up hope.

My stepson was diagnosed with A.L.L. on Christmas Eve of 1978 and given less that 10 percent chance of survival. We were told by his doctors, that if by some miracle he survived to manhood, would never be able to father children.

Elke Anaise was born on Oct. 15 and her father has been cancer free for 27 years.

There is always hope.

Sent by Rob Fiedler | 1:00 PM ET | 12-19-2006

My heart fell when I read your blog this morning. I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I haven't traveled the road as far as you have and hope Im not going to. But, if I was you at this point after all the pain and discomfort and illness, most of which was the treatment not the cancer and the doctors felt eradication of the disease wasn't possible, I would be on the next plane to Hawaii after the holidays. I would take palliative treatment, but enjoy life as best I could for as long as I had. You have fought the good fight; now go out on your own terms.

Sent by Chris | 1:05 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Miracles happen in Hawaii. I have a friend that was diagnosed with lung cancer four years ago. He was given six months to live. His son was getting married in Kauai and he was determined to go in spite of the complications from chemo etc. He arrived in Kauai in a wheelchair and when he left two weeks later he was walking. When he returned to his oncologist after the two weeks in Hawaii, he had no further progression of the cancer. Now four years later his oncologist is still scratching his head and asking my friend what he did in Hawaii to stop the progression of his cancer. Of course my friend has no answer. For some things in life there are no answers. Go to Hawaii.

Sent by Joellen | 1:29 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Go to Hawaii now and enjoy it thoroughly. Then make plans to return. Remember your columns about continuing to make long-term plans. You might still improve with new drugs, new hopes, or whatever unexplainable reason causes your tumors to give up and surrender. And the second trip will be that much better.

Sent by Bob Maimone | 1:31 PM ET | 12-19-2006

My close friend lost her eyesight and the function of her kidneys to diabetes. She and her husband have a six year old daughter. They faced a decision to go on their own "trip to Hawaii." She felt like a Disney Christmas would be her grand finale Christmas and didn't want to take the trip too soon. After a lot of late night talks we changed the definition of grand finale Christmas to be one celebrated with a new kidney and pancreas. Tomorrow they leave to take their daughter to Disney World for Christmas.

Go to Hawaii. My friend redefined her definition of her grand finale Christmas. You should redefine your reason for going to Hawaii. Don't go to Hawaii to spend your last days dying with a Mai Tai in your hand. Go and spend some time living with a Mai Tai in your hand!

Sent by Joan Marie | 1:34 PM ET | 12-19-2006

I have been reading your blog everyday but haven't felt compelled to write until you mentioned the Hawaii Option. I was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer (mets to the brain) and was told I had three to six months.

This was after three other bouts with different cancers. My husband and I always had what we called "Plan B." That meant, we would cash out and head for the Caribbean when things got bad.

Well, it's been 3 years since my dire prognosis. I stopped all treatment when they told me it was terminal, choosing to enjoy my time and not chase treatments and doctor appointments.

I am now doing fine, traveling lots and not regretting a thing. My doctor keep telling me to keep doing what I'm doing, it seems to work.

So go for it. Book your Hawaii trip and enjoy. Plan B is a hell of a lot more fun.

Sent by Cindy | 1:36 PM ET | 12-19-2006

You're a treasure to all of us. Your strength has given me the courage to not give up. Keep fighting. I'm praying for you.

Sent by Mary Scruggs | 1:37 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Maui No Ka Oi!

Aloha Leroy,

I have enjoyed your blogs insight in trials and tribulations that I know little of but have friends and family in similar situations. As a resident of Maui I must tell you about our yearly visitors, the humpback whales, a must see while your here. Contact me and I'll get you and your family or friends out to see some up close and personal!

Sent by Lukas Sheild | 1:38 PM ET | 12-19-2006

I hope you're making reservations right now for that trip to Hawaii, Leroy. And I hope you have a wonderful time there! But I also hope you hang onto a little edge of doubt about that prognosis. Hey — they've been wrong before, right?

As someone else said, I love you even though I don't really know you. Sit back and just take in the warmth of all the good wishes flowing your way

Sent by Doris | 1:40 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Mr. Leroy Sievers, please be sure to have blood tests while on vacation.

My wife and I recently lost a friend that I consider to have been killed not by her cancer, but by her insurance company.

Her insurance company gave her doctors so much grief over tests and medical procedures that our friend did not receive the benefit of weekly blood tests when she was off chemo.

When she returned for the approved blood test some two months had lapsed and a week more for processing. In that time frame her cancer had exploded forth, I call it super-nova cancer. Still her insurance company balked at any further MRI, surgery or chemo. When approval did come, four days before her death, her liver (not the primary or previously known site of her cancer) was a hopeless mass of cancer. Chemo, even if successful in killing the cancer, would only cause her to bleed to death.

Remember film-maker Micheal Landen, cis-platin was working for him. The cancer had so invaded his vascular system that killing the cancer was causing uncontrolled internal bleeding. Imagine, the chemo is working. The cancer victim is able to withstand the chemical agent. Yet the chemo must be withdrawn due to extensive bleeding.

I am a cancer survivor. (chop out, radiation (only worked on Japan) and cis-platin (THAT WORKED). I am also a student of and once a researcher in cancer. I have seen the progress from my student days at Rosewell Park and from the library research I was able to gleen while at BMS.

Sent by Joseph Lyons | 1:42 PM ET | 12-19-2006

So I guess you need to decide. A trip to Hawaii or Afghanistan.

Sent by Susan M. | 1:43 PM ET | 12-19-2006

You must have heard this before, but I mention it just in case. There are so many wonderful reports of cures by "alternative" means even in late stages of cancer, some of them reputable and well researched. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in September and after two surgeries just started chemo. I just can't help but wonder about the other possibilities out there and surely if all else fails, why not? The Moss Reports in particular were very helpful in introducing me to these other options. Have a fabulous time in Hawaii.

Sent by Daniele | 1:47 PM ET | 12-19-2006

You must have heard this before, but I mention it just in case. There are so many wonderful reports of cures by "alternative" means even in late stages of cancer, some of them reputable and well researched. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in September and after two surgeries just started chemo. I just can't help but wonder about the other possibilities out there and surely if all else fails, why not? The Moss Reports in particular were very helpful in introducing me to these other options. Have a fabulous time in Hawaii.

Sent by Daniele | 1:50 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Leroy, my daughter and her boyfriend Ben went to Hawaii two years ago this coming Feb. at the ages of 17 and 16. It turned out to be the only time he will every go. He died the Saturday after Thanksgiving from a six month battle with oral cancer. Use the time you have left wisely loving those around you, no matter where your at. Live, laugh, love and learn. May all of us live by the four L rule. Peace be with you.

Sent by Leah Wellman | 1:52 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Don't give in, give up, or surrender. You are LIVING with cancer, not dying of cancer. Enjoy each and every day. Since I was diagnosed with my cancer, I have learned many of life's lessons, but the foremost is to quit saying "I'm going to go there or do that someday." Someday does not come for all of us. Just do it now.

Sent by Joan Justice | 1:53 PM ET | 12-19-2006

"Cancer Sucks" t-shirts? Hum. I would buy one too.

Reading your blogs and comments from readers is like reliving my husband's journey all over again — and my journey, too. You give such a voice to feelings we could not always express while he was alive. Leroy, you are comforting me in my grief and for that, I thank you.

No matter how bleak, do not give up. Live your life!

Sent by Deborah | 2:09 PM ET | 12-19-2006

A good friend, Frank Campanale, my acupuncturist actually, died two weeks ago. I didn't know him for very long, but he was one of those people you knew forever once you met them. He was a natural healer, a man who believed in healthy living and was loved by all.

He died in eight months from lung cancer, a shock for all of us. He didn't choose chemo, but tried holistic therapies, to no avail.

When I spoke to a good friend who knew him well, we grieved together. Then she told me she speaks to Frank every day. Her face was lit up and happy when she told me this, I was taken aback. Then I thought, don't waste time, get on the line! I loved this man and still want to be close to him.

Sometimes I am surprised how often, daily, I think of my parents and grandparents, now long gone. Good people last forever.

Again, you have touched my life, I have learned from you and honor your struggle. Merry Christmas, enjoy the day. We love you.

Sent by Karil Adamo | 2:14 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Leroy,

Your words spoke to me this morning. I have been on a "break" from my chemo for the last couple of months and during that time, was fortunate to be able to go on a lengthy vacation with my family. It was the best vacation I've ever had. I was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer over a year ago and am doing well. Leroy, take that vacation to Hawaii. Do it and don't look back.

May you have a very blessed and joyful Christmas.

Sent by Lisa Majors | 2:19 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Dear Leroy,

My heart and thoughts are with you.

Sent by Sher | 2:23 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Leroy,

Keep up the fight! Go to Hawaii and see sunsets and sip Mai Tais and any other exotic drink you want. My brother had Stage IV nasopharyngeal cancer and lost his battle this past May but he never gave up doing the things he loved with the people he loved and from the outside he seemed to enjoy it. So, while you have the stamina to make that 12 hour flight GO NOW. None of us knows when we wake up if that will be our last morning. If there is one thing I learned from the struggle (yes... I feel like I struggled too with my brother's illness from the first day I took him to Hopkins to the moment he took his last breath) it is to enjoy each moment we are allowed to breathe in and breathe out. Go. Relax. Enjoy the warmth on your face and the smell of the frangipani blossoms. ALOHA.

Sent by Nancy Nerenberg | 3:21 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Absolutely don't give up hope, though what you hope for might need some adjustment. As for Hawaii, GO FOR IT! Go as if just now is exactly when you wanted to go. Enjoy it while you can and then as for the rest. I'm with you all the way. The last place to be is in the hospital hooked up to machines. Hospice Nurses are the bomb, as the kids say "for real." They will treat you and your partner well and work hard to make your life comfortable.

Most of all do what it is YOU want to do. Don't be surprised at what you might choose.

My thoughts for comfort and peace are with you.

Sent by Sandra Yudilevich | 4:19 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Dear Leroy,

I guess it will be for you to tell us what your next turn will be.

Whatever happens, as I read the comments posted today, it seems to me that people are not ready to let you go. Myriads of voices telling you to keep fighting. It feels nice... Does it? Or not? Is disappointing us or not noticing our denials still one more burden to carry on your shoulders?

Whatever you decide, the best we should do is to encourage you by respecting your intelligence, it is your life and your body and you are in control, as much as one can be...

What we should do is to assure you that whatever happens, we will be alright. Not the other way around.

Much love.

Sent by Fran | 4:51 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Yes, please do come to Hawaii — especially the island of Maui, which many believe to be a place of healing. Thanks for reminding me of the pleasures of a good Mai Tai. We need one right now. My husband has been fighting a losing battle with Stage IV small cell lung cancer for five months, and has now given up on treatment. Your messages and the responses have been invaluable to me.

Sent by Sallie | 4:53 PM ET | 12-19-2006

Dear Leroy: I can't imagine how it must feel to have all these strangers telling you "keep fighting!" It's easy to say when you're not the one doing it. But it is also an exhausting process, going from treatment to treatment, test to test, etc. I understand the fatigue—I live with it every day, too, partly from the drugs and partly from the emotional toll. After six and a half years, it's hard, even though I am grateful to still be here! I hope you will be able to go to Hawaii. I was there in September (and wish I was there now!) and it was lovely. I hope you will be able to just relax and enjoy it. Best wishes and blessings.

Sent by Kathleen | 1:26 PM ET | 12-20-2006

Hi, Leroy!

As someone who recently returned from a couple weeks in Italy during a break from chemo — and before more chemo plus radiation — I say, go for it. Hawaii is lovely and would be so healing! My respite proved to be just what I needed after some serious side-effects. I walked, visited sites, wandered around Rome and Assisi, ate LOTS of pasta, visited with friends there, and left refreshed, renewed and hope-filled again. I am determined to take every travel opportunity that I can before Im not able to anymore. I'm all for carpe diem — and not manana!

Hear all the Bon Voyages being sent your way!

Sent by Alan Beauregard | 1:35 PM ET | 12-20-2006

Leroy, follow your dreams wherever they take you. The memories you make will take you through those tough spots in life.

Although I have been fortunate not to have been personally affected by cancer, I suffered a near fatal reaction to prescription medication 15 years ago. The one thing I can remember is an incredible calm — one that I have never felt since. You will know when that time comes — enjoy life until then.

Safiri salama!

Sent by Marie | 1:37 PM ET | 12-20-2006

Go to Hawaii! Dying or not it is a wonderful experience. As far as dying there, well, Dr. Greene on ER did it so why can't you?

Sent by April Tapper | 1:38 PM ET | 12-20-2006

I want to write you and tell you a story of a miracle, where the doctor had the magic potion to cure the cancer, making all of this go away.

You know I don't.

What I do have is admiration for your doctor who, just like you, really does not know what the future holds. But he does know people and cancer people at that. And he think it is best to take that lovely blessed vacation that you have dreamed of.

Your miracle could come but Leroy I admire your doctor for being candid enough to not only tell you to go to Hawwaii but to tell you it is not to die but to live — right now, while the living is good.

Keep on writing and sharing your journey with us. You are a miracle in many worlds right now.

Sent by Melissa Thompson | 1:40 PM ET | 12-20-2006

Dear Mr. Sievers:

Being an extremely early riser, your blog is one of the things I read with my first cup of coffee. I was struck by the blog response of Jenene Koegel on 12/20. She wrote "there are no strangers in chemo, just people with a different diagnosis." What a wise woman. Having had a treatment yesterday, I, too, was amazed to look around and find the same thing. In fact, as we "regulars" get to know each other every Wednesday, I have found some good friends. We come from all walks of life and normally wouldn't even cross paths during our lifetime but now we share needlework tips, funny stories, disappointment over some of our children's ghastly decisions (navel piercing, etc.) We get to know spouses, caregivers, all those wonderful people who are so supportive, whatever their relationship is to us. In fact, we have a jolly time and laughter rings out to the point that the nurses come over to share in it. Along with my "cowboy cookies." The point I am trying to make is that the chemo room (in my case, the "infusion suite") is filled with people who still love to laugh, for however long life goes on!

Sent by Brenda Y. Lynch | 12:34 PM ET | 12-21-2006

Dear Mr. Sievers,

I'm late coming on board here, but have read your blog with great interest and many tears.

I don't think there were blogs seven years ago when my 44 year old husband was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. But he blogged in his own way by e-mailing our family and friends nearly every day with accounts of his battle. He did it all with grace, insight and humor-much like you. I've saved all those e-mails for my sons to read so that they can learn what a mensch their father was.

I completely understand what the Hawaii trip means. We did a trip down the California coast his last summer. It was a bittersweet, but very important trip.

I wish you peace.

Sent by Kathy | 11:01 AM ET | 12-22-2006

Dear Leroy,

I don't know if we have spoken before, my dads patients have come in and out of my life. It really touched me to know that their are people out their like my dad and family's that support them that are going through similar situations. Funny I live in hawaii now... I hope you are well,
Anicea Campanale

Sent by Anicea Campanale | 6:26 AM ET | 09-05-2008