In Good Company

 
“When I decide later today what path to take, I make that decision knowing that so many of you have walked this road before me, and that so many of you are walking beside me. And that makes me comfortable -- and confident.”
 
 

I guess today is going to be decision day about chemo. But first, I want to thank all of you for the notes of encouragement and support that you've been sending in. Those all mean so much. And whenever we talk about the decision about what sort of treatment to try next, there really seems to be a common theme in all the notes: Make the best decision you can, then move forward and don't look back. Don't torture yourself with "what ifs." That will just make you crazy. This is easy to say, but not always easy to do. After all, these really are life and death decisions. And the longer your fight with cancer goes on, the fewer chances there are to make these decisions. Your options narrow.

I do have faith in my own judgment. Even if I don't see it now, I'm pretty certain that the right path will make itself known to me in time.

When you're standing at a fork in the road, once you pick a direction, head down that road confident that you made the best decision you could. Agonizing over what might have been, what would have happened if you'd decided differently, well, all that just eats up your time and energy. Energy you need to follow the path you chose.

This doesn't mean that you can't change your mind or that you don't listen to new information. It just means that based on what you know at the time, you'll know what to do.

So when I decide later today what path to take, I make that decision knowing that so many of you have walked this road before me, and that so many of you are walking beside me. And that makes me comfortable — and confident. I know I'm in good company.

 

Comments (Send a comment)

My Dear, Sweet Leroy,

I'm here with you walking beside you, to help make you comfortable today. I love you, my man.

Sent by Gail | 12:13 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy,

I am also dealing with a Stage IV cancer diagnosis. I have been following your blog for some time and this allows for some insight about the decision you will make today.

I believe that you will continue with the chemo treatment because that is the pattern you have followed. You will continue on an aggressive path, rather than a "submissive" one.

I know the choice doesn't seem as obvious to you, as you're so close to the fight, but I think most readers see it as the choice you will make today.

You talked at one point of drinking a cool one in Hawaii but that talk seemed to be a momentary musing. It wasn't you. Actively fighting seems to be more your style.

It is somewhat comforting to know that we don't lose who we are even while dealing with a devastating illness.

You are right, the path you take can always be corrected later on but for now, Good luck.

Sent by Cindy | 12:30 PM ET | 01-31-2007

God bless you on your way Leroy.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 12:34 PM ET | 01-31-2007

1-31-07. THE BIG DAY!!!! All of our cancer days are really big days... each day that we have in the fight chalks up to another big day... I wonder if our doctors realize just how BIG our days really are?????? When you walk into the doctor's office today Leroy, know that your fellow bloggers are standing tall and proud right behind you on YOUR BIG DAY!!!!!!!

Sent by Marianne Dalton | 12:46 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Hi Leroy — Good luck with your decision. You have so many people "out here" who are praying and hoping for the best for you. I wanted to tell you about my sister who had liver cancer at 15. She is 36 now with three beautiful children. During her year of chemo she lost her long beautiful brown hair. Very traumatic for a 15-year-old. At some point she went to a Grateful Dead show and my brother and friends painted a very colorful Dead logo on her bald head. It was the coolest thing. I would also agree with the people who say just go ahead and cut off the hair. I did this for my sister and it helped.

Sent by Leah Forst | 1:16 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy,

As always, I wish you the best with your decision. I can only imagine how difficult it must be, never having been in your position.

I'll be checking your blog first thing tomorrow morning to learn what you've decided, and then I'll follow your progress with great interest, concern and hope.

All the best, Jane Weldon

Sent by Jane Weldon | 1:24 PM ET | 01-31-2007

I missed a day from being down sick, but you need to start the chemo. Grab for every chance you can, while you can. And don't lose your hair, take it before the chemo gets it... shave your head... and perhaps wax the rest... ok no waxing... But take your hair, and walk into chemo with a smile. It's your choice, but your should take control and go for it.

Sent by Brit | 1:27 PM ET | 01-31-2007

I am feeling hopeful and confident about your next step, Leroy. I send you my bravest, sincerest, most serene vibrations to ease your transition into the next phase of cancer battle. Much love to you.

Sent by Sherri Eggleston | 1:29 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy — Just a quick note to say I'm thinking about you today as you make your decision about chemo. I know from experience that cancer patients often hate being called courageous, but your ability to keep putting one foot in front of the other one on this tough path is awesome.

Sent by Leigh | 1:31 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Thanks for sharing your heart with dignity and grace.

Sent by Ervin | 1:35 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy,

If you want to continue to outlive the "expiration dates" that your doctors have given you, maybe you should choose the most aggressive path until your quality of life is too challenged. You can always stop your treatments.

It's all a crap shoot. And you hold the dice.

Sent by Mary Sebastiani | 1:38 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Dear Leroy, In an hour I am heading off to chemo, version three, session one. The nice "gentle" Alimta allowed some tumor growth and spread, so it is back to a cocktail with what promises to have the side effects I dread. I did shed some more tears about losing my hair again, the bit that came back. (I always thought my best features were my eyes and my hair. Sigh.) I have a basic Bozo head, an inch or two standing out on the sides and back, and a wide swath bald from front to back. After months I am used to looking at myself. What I can't bear is the look in someone else's eyes as they take in the seasonal (sometimes inappropriate) headgear and it dawns on them that they are a few feet away from cancer. By that time I have looked away to avoid either the pained recognition or flight response.

And has anyone mentioned that if you have had skull radiation, hair is slower to re-sprout?

When I was diagnosed last year, I instinctively returned to the "rules" that guided us when my Mom was dying. Follow your instincts no second guesses. It still feels right to me, and I trust it will lead you on as well. Very best wishes for healing, in all its forms. Finding you and others in this space has been a true blessing.

Sent by Jan | 2:30 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Godspeed Leroy, I have faith you will make the right decision for you.

Sent by Rhonda | 2:31 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Looking at the posts already this morning, I am struck by how many people seem to get up in the morning, grab a coffee and head to their computer to see what Leroy has to say. Your blog is the first thing I look for in the morning. You have entwined us in your life and we are walking beside you, dear friend. I think we all agree... go for it! And when the affects hit you the hardest, know that there are a few good days in between. That's what I live for. God Bless.

Sent by Patti | 2:41 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy,

I don't know what your religious beliefs are, but trusting yourself is a bit like trusting God. It requires a leap of faith, a stepping off from the security of certain knowledge. You do not have certain knowledge about the "right path." From what you have written over time, I do think it is a pretty safe bet that you have faith in yourself. Lean on it.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 2:44 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy, always know that God is with you every day, not just on decision days. Faith is a great healer, so don't look back.

Sent by Lisa | 2:54 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy — My mom is facing some decision making for her stage IV lung cancer. She already lost her hair with the first round of chemo. Unlike you, she is too fragile for some options. So we're investigating alternatives to chemo. But I agree with other comments that you should go for the most aggressive treatment, something that has the best chance of success. It's an option most would take if they could.

Sent by Mary Hamric | 2:57 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Dear Leroy, I have followed your blog for about a month, and I never miss a day. I had breast cancer about 12 years ago, so I have walked some of the road you are on. I can tell from what you write that you are a man with a wonderful heart, and that you speak to us from your heart. That is what pulls me back to your blog over and over. You are a genuine human spirit!!!! And I know that you will find the answer to the question of more chemo or not when you listen to that amazingly warm and noble heart of yours. You make me proud to be a human being!

Sent by Karen Breunig Hine | 4:31 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy,

Tough choices, but at least there are still choices to be made. I'm standing with you and hang in there!

Sent by Betsey Kuzia | 4:36 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Leroy, I have not walked your path but have been by the side of those who have. You are never alone, trust in that. Your decision will be the right one for you. Thinking of you.

Sent by Pat Z. | 4:37 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Good Luck, Leroy:

I know more chemo is tough. Forget about the hair bit, though, and don't factor going bald again for a second. I read this novel, Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg, and there was a passage about a woman bald from chemo. Her friend sees her resting quietly and she studies and appreciates her friend's uncluttered simplicity and beauty. She says, "I wish we could get over our horror of baldness and appreciate instead the tender revelations it provides."

I hated chemo and I was horrified when I went bald. Then I got used to it and now I am even somewhat fond of it. I am more me bald than wigged!

Any way you go will be tough, but you have the support of many, so forge on with confidence.

Sent by Susan | 4:40 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Stay in there and fight! Thanks for all you do! You are a remarkable man!

Sent by Sandy Lathe | 4:42 PM ET | 01-31-2007

Blessings to you in your fight and, it is truly a fight.

My brother lost his fight with lung cancer but, oh my, the advances they have made.

I have had breast cancer so I can speak with some degree of experience.

Things we know:

1. Cancer is scary!

2. Cancer hurts!

3. Fighting is better than giving up!

4. Hope is what keeps us going!

I hear myself in your experiences. I will keep reading and pulling for you!

Sent by Linda Doolittle | 5:09 PM ET | 02-03-2007

Hi Leroy — I am approaching the 8th anniversary of my diagnosis of Stage III inflammatory breast cancer and the 4th anniversary of a small mets to my spine. Having survived an initial year of treatment including LOTS of chemo (and loss of hair multiple times), I am now 1 1/2 years into what I call "chronic chemotherapy." Every other week I receive Taxotere and I will continue on this regimen for as long as it holds the cancer at bay...hopefully for many, many years.

I do not have an active tumor that we are watching...Yes, I live with the side effects every other week, but I continue to live a vibrant, happy and productive life — as a wife, mother, and professional. I have had to grieve the loss of so many physical attributes that I've honestly lost count. But when I look at my life, its honestly not about my hair, my eyelashes, my nails, my breasts, etc... it's about my wonderful family and friends who make my life worth living. They love me for who I am not what I look like. Yes, you grieve each loss and chemo is not fun — but life is too precious and sweet to not try everything possible to keep on going. Whatever you have decided today, it is a personal choice and we all support you in your decision.

Sent by Elena | 4:58 PM ET | 02-04-2007

Dear Leroy,

Don't worry about the hair thing. When I underwent chemo for colon cancer, my hair slowly fell out. One day my 12 year old told me my hair was gray and straggly!(After smacking him — just kidding! I made an appointment.) The next day I cut it off, and wore it 2 inches long spiked with gel for 2 years. People said I looked 10 years younger! I don't know about that, but it was easier to deal with. Cut yours now, enjoy your new look, just in time for summer. Thinking of you, full speed ahead!

Sent by Karil | 5:03 PM ET | 02-04-2007

Leroy,

I'm so glad to hear you chose the quality of life route. I can now be honest and admit that I was trying to nudge you in that direction. My letter was the first response on Decision Day.

I wrote that letter because it seemed that you had lost QoL side of the coin, no longer talking about Hawaii, etc. I wanted you to be slightly annoyed that some stranger thought they knew what you were thinking before you did.

No one can make the "right" decision for you but you, but we can all try to help you not get stuck in one mind set.

I took the QoL path and have never regretted it. No matter how my cancer battle ends up, my LIFE is being lived the way I want.

Way to go Leroy!!

Sent by Cindy | 2:11 PM ET | 02-05-2007

Leroy,

Tough hand my friend, but really — if anybody can beat down these little nasties. it's you. I've seen you work under difficult conditions, you've got the right stuff — the sheer strength of will, the character, and the wisdom to manage this properly.

I'm thinking of you, sending up thoughts of strength from this end. If there is a day when the fight is difficult, think of my grinning face covered in sand, working on a generator covered in oil, prodding you on... come on new, just do it...

Sent by "Stretch" from the Iraq Run | 2:38 PM ET | 02-05-2007

Leroy, I think you will do the best thing. You can always change your mind.

Sent by TLM | 2:57 PM ET | 02-05-2007

I guess I am feeling anxious about YOUR final choice on chemo today! To paraphrase Scarlett O'Hara... I'll think about that tomorrow. So whatever you decided today, please know you can change your mind tomorrow. WHEW... got that off my chest, Leroy. Sorry if it is back onto yours!

Sent by Susan | 2:59 PM ET | 02-05-2007

Leroy, you're an amazing human being and in my thoughts and prayers. I've read thousands of articles over the years but few have touched me in such a profound way as your authentic blog. You're certainly a role model for what it means to be human and deserve a Nobel Prize for your strength and courage.

Sending you get well wishes from Fortaleza, Brazil.

Sent by Thales Panagides | 3:01 PM ET | 02-05-2007

Hi Leroy!

First let me say I'm praying for you and think of you often.

Through all of your posts that I've read you seem pretty calm. I think I would be afraid... is your confidence a skill acquired through the coping of your disease, or is it something that has always been a part of your personality?

I just don't think I could handle everything as bravely as you. I'd like to think I'd try, but something just tells me I'd be more frightened than anything...

I hope you don't mind the question.

Take care. God bless.

Sent by Troy | 5:22 PM ET | 02-05-2007

Last year I was very fortunate to have been diagnosed with invasive ductal breast cancer. Fortunate, because I found the lump early and had very prompt treatment. Because the tumor was not hormone receptor positive, all consultants recommended both chemotherapy and radiation following lumpectomy. I had hoped that I could get out of chemo since there was no lymph node involvement. I have to admit the part about the chemo that bothered me was the hair loss. My husband was surprised when I told him that emotionally it would have been easier to deal with a mastectomy than the hair loss. He has never seen me as particularly vain and hair, after all, grows back. (I don't know how many people have told me that).

In my case, hair had different implications. I am a clinical psychologist and see a variety of clients for different emotional issues. Most of my clients are pretty resilient people who have had some difficulties to face themselves. They would not be so affected by a therapist with a pretty easy cancer. Others, however, have more substantial issues, particularly about loss and abandonment, and I felt I had a responsibility to them to not appear "sick" since that would increase their fears and insecurities. Not what a therapist needs to do, nor needs to have to deal with, on top of dealing with her treatment. Being bald, particularly for a woman, is a definite sign that all is not well.

I had shoulder length, straight hair and quickly found an attractive, chin length wig that was similar to my hair texture and color. I then had my hair cut in the same style. People really noticed the hair cut. By the time I switched to the wig, virtually no one noticed the change. Only colleagues and friends were aware I was going through treatment since I scheduled chemos for Fridays (to recover over the weekend) and then radiation treatments were scheduled at 7:30am, so I could be in my office at normal hours. Most patients thought I looked great with a new hair cut and weight loss. (I am a very physically active person and kept up jogging and other exercise to help me through the treatments).

Losing my hair has been emotionally taxing at times. It has come back (in a manner of speaking). It is almost an alien thing-different texture, curly, thick and it has a will of its own. I guess as I had to learn new skills for caring for wigs, I will need to learn new skills for dealing with curly hair. It is interesting that such a trivial thing as hair can have such an emotional effect even in the face of cancer treatment.

I wish you well hair loss is survivable. And I know many others have told you — it will grow back. The catch is, like everything else in life, you never know how it will be the second time around.

Sent by Cay Welsh | 12:31 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Mr. Sievers,

Thank you for doing this. It is a gift to us who work in hospice and in other ways with our family, friends and neighbors who are dealing with cancer and other illnesses.

Sent by Charlotte Gillespie | 1:32 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Hi Leroy,

Any way to you can make the trip to Hawaii before starting the next round? Many friends in my CA support group took vacations before starting their new treatments. They all returned from their escapes rested, stronger, and ready to continue the good fight.

Take care, and thank you...

Sent by Nancy | 3:55 PM ET | 02-08-2007

I always look forward to hearing about your progress on my local NPR station. Please know that you (and all those fighting cancer) are constantly in my thoughts. Through your candid commentary, you are helping thousands battle some of the more insidious and devastating aspects of this disease: the isolation and hopelessness that inevitably accompanies a cancer diagnosis.

I am (luckily) a breast cancer survivor, having four years ago gone through chemo and radiation. With two pre-teen boys, I felt that I had to find positives where I could, lest the experience be even scarier for them than it already had to be. My hair loss made for some interesting and funny family stories ("Remember when Mom lost her wig trying to catch shrimp at the Japanese steakhouse...?"), and while I'd be lying if I told you it never once bothered me, it (oddly) turned out, for me, to be one of the less traumatic aspects of treament.

You are right in your observation that hair loss truly identifies one as a "cancer patient", as if it were an effect of the disease, not the treatment. But, as one of my "thinning" male coworkers lamented, at least mine grew back.

I wish you the best of luck in your continued recovery.

Sent by Trisch | 12:27 PM ET | 02-09-2007

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Leroy Sievers in the Ted Koppel Documentary

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About 'My Cancer'

My Cancer will be updated Monday through Friday with posts and commentaries from Leroy Sievers. A journalist for more than 25 years, Leroy has worked at CBS News and ABC News, where he was the executive producer at Nightline. You can follow his story through this blog, his weekly podcast and his monthly series on Morning Edition.

 
 

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