It was heartwarming to see both Ruth and you posting yesterday. You've both come through the fire again, if not unscathed, at least still here, living, and appreciating. You and your doctors are obviously working very hard to move forward.

I sometimes hear people talking cynically about oncologists... "They're only in it for the money," "they're sitting on a cure so that they keep making big bucks." Nothing could be further from the truth in my books. While all of us have run across the doctor who is deluded into thinking that he/she is God, or who is manners-deficient, I doubt that anyone could survive the mental, spiritual and physical rigors of working in oncology without a deep commitment to and caring about helping us. During my nursing career, I've cared for many patients living with cancer, so I know something about that firsthand.

I guess what I'm saying is that were blessed that people as skilled and caring as your doctors, Leroy, Ruth's and mine are so committed to doing all that they can to help us to live longer, and with the best quality of life that is possible. I, for one, feel blessed. I'd like to say to my own oncologist, Thanks Carlin.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 12:19 PM ET | 02-28-2007

You said it best, Leroy: "When we all stand together, we can do amazing things." I'm glad to hear the pain from your collapsed lung has lessened some. Hopefully you'll be feeling much better soon. And Ruth, I'm so happy to hear your surgery went well! That's fantastic! Congratulations!

Sent by A.T. | 12:28 PM ET | 02-28-2007

So very pleased to hear the good news from you both, Leroy and Ruth. I wanted to pass on a tip that has been so helpful to me. It has been a year and a half since I had my 3rd successful lung cancer surgery. Last year I found a physical therapist who does massage on the intercostal spaces in the ribcage. With all the scar tissue and pain spasms, there are still hot spots all around the ribcage and sternum that are quite sore. Accupressure and heat are a winning combo. My doctors didn't recommend PT but they wrote an Rx when I asked. Best wishes for a speedy recovery for you both.

Sent by Sara | 12:31 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Leroy, I don't have cancer, but I think what you are saying about listening to your body applies even when medications are not involved. I think the body is constantly sending us messages about what is needed and it takes someone listening carefully to hear the message. Your "ears" have been fine-tuned by this terrible attack on your body and the way you are listening is helping many. Thank you.

Sent by Lydia Stone | 1:40 PM ET | 02-28-2007

I think that asking our bodies to recover just like before is almost impossible. It's been almost 18 months for me since the last of my rectal cancer treatment, but there's still discomfort from my port incision when I use my right arm a lot (of course, I'm right handed), my nails are soft and weak, I am always cold, the symptoms of sudden menopause are annoying to say the least, my intestinal tract can be unpredictable and we don't even need to discuss the other areas of my reproductive system.

Still all in all, my body has fought a battle and won. There may be other skirmishes but life is good despite these residual hangers-on. They are a small price to pay for being cancer free. The alternative would be a lot worse. I have a great deal to be thankful for.

And to Ruth, I was so excited to see your posting Tuesday. It's good to have you back. You've been in my thoughts and prayers.

Sent by Chris | 1:45 PM ET | 02-28-2007

What wonderful news from Ruth! Today's post gave me such joy. Hang in there... for yourself and for all of us.

Sent by Kathy | 1:49 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Ruth,

You go girl!! Hoping that our collective positive thoughts are helping all of us to keep on keepin' on.

Sent by Sheara | 2:50 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Leroy,

I have a feeling that patience isn't your long suit, but you're working on it. I'm the same way. Give me instant gratification any day. Trouble is, most of the time i.g. isn't the way the world works. You remind me to give the flower a chance to bloom. Thanks.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 5:08 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Dear Leroy,

Thoughts on our community.

I have a dear friend who sent me the following. I found comfort in his words, and I am passing this message along hoping you find it to be as powerful as I did.

"Each of us carries within ourselves not only all of the people (infant, child, young adult, adult, etc.) we have ever been, but also much of all of the people we encounter on the way.

Nowhere, it seems to me, is this more true than in a community gathered together by a common concern, and particularly the common concern of anticipated suffering and possible death. On the surface, communities like this can seem more like information exchanges than anything else, but they are much, much more. The others we encounter along our particular shared way each serve for us as role models, mirrors, supporters and persons in need of support. From those who have "gone before" we take courage, seeing in them the promise of possible survival, and often even deeper meaning as they demonstrate that even those who will succumb can be of inestimable importance to others while they are still here. To those who "come behind" us, we owe the duty of passing on what we have received, and in so doing, we live out the meaningfulness of our own lives.

In a community of persons drawn together by an often fatal illness, the early death of some is inevitable, and having those we love and care about torn from us is agonizing and frightening. It takes our support, steals our chance to feel the power of helping another, and perhaps most of all can make us feel that we are now one step closer to the "front of the line."

All of us are closer to the front of the line every day of our lives. No one is guaranteed a long life, or an easy one, or a particularly happy one. But it is an essential aspect of human dignity that each life has meaning, if only because it comes from the source of life and will return to that source in the end.

The dying people I have spent time with mean as much to me as anyone living. They are constant examples to me. Their courage impresses me day by day, and helps me to live in the ongoing struggles of my own life. This very afternoon, I remembered one little old man whose motto was "don't never give up." If I have ever met someone who had a right to quit, he was the one, but he really lived every day life gave him.

I hope you will, too."

Sent by Janet Turcotte | 5:11 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Patience was not always my strong point. I remember as a late 20 year old and I tried to become pregnant. After a year of trying, you begin the tests. And you name it, I had it wrong with me. Through all this and anything that isn't as it should be you pray for patience. My grandma, always wise and my best friend, needle pointed and framed a saying for me that became my mantra. "Patience is finding something else to do in the meantime." And it is so true. Twenty some years after all this began I still use this saying to help me cope with whatever decides to challenge me. It's funny how finding something else to do in the meantime can ease your troubled mind.

Sent by Robyn | 5:13 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Leroy, I've read your blog and all the comments from everyone. What a wonderful community you have created! You're right again, one's body will never be the same and an added extra is that I believe the more pain we have experienced highers our level of so we can keep on tolerating more. I'm doing well, like you said it will be a long healing process. Bless you, Leroy and everyone who reads this blog, I appreciate all of you so very much.

Sent by Ruth White | 5:14 PM ET | 02-28-2007

The "blog" has taken on a life of its own. My husband (who is well) and I (BC.stage 2) were having dinner. After talking about the day's events, my radiation, who won at the Oscars, the spat between Obama and Clinton, and the market in China, he asked me what was new with you, Leroy. He has never read the blog, but I keep him posted. I told him about the collapsed lung and his face got all scrunched showing sympathy pain for you. He said he was sorry to hear about that... just like Leroy was one our neighbors. Then I told him that I had good news and that Ruth blogged after a scary length of time of silence. She was doing okay after her surgery. He looked at me quizzically and asked who Ruth was. I said, "I don't know... just Ruth from the blog." He asked where she was from. I told him it didn't matter, but what did matter was that Ruth had this tumor on her aorta and they removed it. He looked at me in near wonder at such a feat and then said, "Tell Ruth, I am glad she is back," just like Ruth was a long lost friend of the family. Yes, the blog has taken on a life of its own.

Sent by Susan P. | 6:20 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Dear Leroy and Everyone going through this process,

Congratulations! We've still got a pulse. I was/am an athlete. Through 28 chemos, 28 radiations and bilateral mastectomy I kept up a training regimen and competed. Then I had this most recent surgery. Hysterectomy/oopherectomy. It was like everything caught up with me at once. I think it's like when there's a crisis and you stay strong, then collapse as soon as it's over. I'm tired, VERY tired.

Sent by Patricia | 6:23 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Leroy, Ruth and all the other travelers along the journey. It was great to "hear" both of you back in the group. I add my joy to the rest of the folks in welcoming you back.

Sent by LAC | 9:27 PM ET | 02-28-2007

Leroy,

Thank you for sharing Ruth's post with us. It's good news. I also hope you will be relatively pain-free shortly from your recent collapsed lung.

Sent by Greg Sheryl | 10:56 AM ET | 03-01-2007

Dear Leroy, I am so glad that you are doing this blog. I appreciate the note sent by Janet Turcotte from her dear friend about life and its meaning. I will carry this with me and keep re-reading it. My son might be taking an experimental vaccine for his Stage III melanoma.

Sent by Maureen J. Patton | 5:02 PM ET | 03-01-2007

Leroy, thanks for the tip of listening to my body. I usually do but am going to find starting chemo next week a challenge. I have been doing a marathon a year for the last 10 and added a triathlon last year. Other than my diagnosis, putting these events on hold is very disappointing but Ill do it. I listen to my body when I work out, Ill listen to it during chemo. Thank you for the heads up.

Sent by Lisa | 3:08 PM ET | 03-07-2007

Dear Leroy:

What do we do next? I'm glad you asked! There's plenty to do. Let's turn the month of March into our CRC color of awareness: blue!!!

There is, as you probably know by now, a growing community of CRC advocates. These are advocates who, everyday, are working to make a difference in the lives of our CRC community. One such group that I am working with is called C3?, the Colorectal Cancer Coalition. Our mission is to eliminate suffering and death due to colorectal cancer.

About 40 of us ? coming from all walks of life and from across the country - are descending on Washington March 20 for our C3 Call On Congress. It is our intention to educate our Congress People that it is their duty to continue to fund the fight against the 2nd biggest killer of men and women!

Leroy, I was in DC March of '06 with a much-smaller group of C3'ers. We had our own CRC-specific training sessions and then we joined the larger group of OVAC attendees (One Voice Against Cancer) who "took on Congress" for a dialogue on the larger subject of cancer. OVAC was wonderful but this year we'll be targeting our representatives for discussion of colorectal cancers.

Just last weekend we all heard the terrible news that one of our passionate delegates, Rebecca Dague Marec, had died of this disease. Rebecca will not now be one of the 40 who are excitedly planning our March on Washington. I'm here to tell you that Rebecca was not one of those that any of us thought would lose this fight. She told one of our fellow delegates last year very, very firmly, "..death for me is not an option. I have two little kids who need me."

If you go to this link, you'll see her photo and a tribute to Rebecca. I am in profile in the picture, and I was sitting in admiration of her as she spoke. One thing that really struck me was the fact that she referred to her erbitux rash as "Martha's Revenge", a term that struck me as very funny, wonderful and emblematic of her approach to her own disease.

This year C3 is calling on Congress deliver the message that we of the CRC community are here, we're a growing constituency, we care, and we vote! I would say to you, too, that we as a group are even more determined to speak up loudly, especially now that we've been passed the mantle of courage that Rebecca wore so gallantly.

So, I say to our NPR community: won't you join us in our fight for our lives?

Sent by Erika Hanson Brown | 2:25 PM ET | 03-13-2007

I'm not sure if any of you have heard but Janet Turcotte's long struggle with colon cancer ended Thursday morning, 9-20-2007. She was a very good friend of mine. I was googling her name and this site came up. I wasn't amazed at her thoughtful comments for she truly believed she would beat "it!" She was very involved in C3, working with legislation on the hill, and promoting colon cancer awareness not only with every person she met but also thru the horse and jockey silks she made for the last couple Pimloco horse races. I will miss her dearly. I pray that they will find a cure for ALL cancers so no one will have to feel the pain of loosing of leaving their loved ones.

Sent by Sharon McNeal | 7:16 PM ET | 09-22-2007