Leroy —

I loved this quote the first time someone sent it in, and today I really needed it, as I am feeling blue about my cancer diagnosis. Actually, not just blue, I'm feeling mortal.

This statement is such a wonderful contradiction to our thinking that living longest, and in the best preserved body, is the way to go, when living well and squeezing every moment of joy that life has to offer is a much more appealing concept.

My body is bearing increasing scars, inside and out, just as you described yesterday, and as I feel more battered, I'll keep remembering this quote. Thanks!

Sent by Lynne Dahlborg | 11:15 AM ET | 02-07-2007

Hi Leroy,

I love fighting with my insurance company. Whenever I'm feeling down about the cancer, a good fight with the evil empire lifts my spirits. I also love this quote. I have it plastered everywhere as a reminder of how I have always lived my life. I'm not about to stop now because I have cancer. I'm reasonably certain that I'm going to arrive in the afterlife scarred, banged up, and bruised but knowing that I enjoyed the ride. Quite frankly, I didn't need cancer to accomplish this but now that it is here, it might as well become part of the experience. Whoever said we have to like it?

It appears that you are in a good place. Enjoy! It seems to be part of the journey.

Sent by Kathy B. | 1:04 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Hi Mr. Sievers,

As I sit here at work, shhhh... don't tell, I am encouraged by your words. I personally do not have cancer but my poppop passed away Jan 06 of colon carcinoma.

I remember his scars and holes and his emotional state after going through a surgery or procedure. He was grateful for the fact that he made it through another test or another examination.

He would always say that his scars were his battle wounds.

Each of them tells a story and has meaning and without them, he wouldn't have been the person he was. He really made me to think differently about my body.

As a woman, we tend to be a little more self-conscious than the next, but to have a mark on your body that represents empowerment, survival and willpower is a beautiful thing.

Each imperfection can only make a person stronger and appreciate life more because they have experienced hardships struggles. To go through a battle and come out, alive, is a blessing and will enable that person to be a motivation towards others.

So as you struggle AND overcome this cancer, remember, people are watching you and are being touched by your life. Stay strong and remember you are NEVER alone.

Sent by Heather, your favorite phlebotomist | 1:06 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Leroy,

How lovely that you can have a day when the rest of life overcomes the constancy of your cancer! I love that quote, too, and feel it is important to remember its wisdom whether we are healthy or not. It's a wonderful way to live. Thanks for reminding me.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 1:09 PM ET | 02-07-2007

It's kind of nice to have nothing to write about, isn't it? Life is getting back to normal. A new normal, but normal nonetheless. Enjoy.

Sent by Stephanie Dornbrook | 1:13 PM ET | 02-07-2007

What a coincidence. Yesterday I sent out 24 copies of that quote to family members and friends. One of the family is having a colostomy performed in his fight with metastasis.

Sent by Don Winslow | 1:52 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Thanks for reminding me of that quote. I'd read it some time ago, but had forgotten about it. I did some digging on the Web and actually found two different takes on it, one being the actual McKenna quote and the other being attributed to Mavis Leyrer, an octogenarian from Seattle. Here they are:

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well preserved piece, but to skid across the line broadside, thoroughly used up, worn out, leaking oil, shouting GERONIMO!" — Bill McKenna, motorcycle racer, Cycle Magazine, February 1982

"The object of lifes journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, Holy Sh*t, What a Ride!!!" — Mavis Leyrer, Seattle

Sent by Benoit | 2:22 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Thanks for reminding me that fighting with the insurance company is even an option. I have been zapped 21 times with radiation to treat breast cancer. I have radiation burns on my chest and my doctor gave me a prescription for a tube of cream to treat my burns. Simple relief! A $10 co-pay will provide the cream to lessen the pain (hopefully). REALITY BURNS! The tube of balm is not covered by my insurance. If I still want it (OUCH) it will be $48.00! I actually need it, not want it, so I fork over the money and feel my tears of frustration, not poverty, build up. I went home with my medicine once again feeling that I was being punished for even having cancer in the first place. Remember Pam, everyone? NOT NOW! You gave me something to write about, Leroy! I am going to fight my insurance company and get my $48.00 back. In the meantime, I am using my balm very sparingly... just in case!

Thanks!

Sent by Susan P. | 3:16 PM ET | 02-07-2007

The quote may have a lot of truth to it for many people but be mindful how you use it.

I sent that quote to Robin, a dear friend of mine with malignant melanoma, after a reoccurrence and following months of intense treatment and way too many medical procedures. It was a quote that sounded like something she would say. I thought she would like it. At the time we all wanted to believe that she, if anyone, would be able to beat the odds.

Of course she was gracious about it but the quote struck too close to home, too close to the truth. Robin wasn't ready to die anytime soon, intact or not, despite her grim prognosis. Sadly, she died some months later and is profoundly missed by many.

Sent by Amelia | 4:42 PM ET | 02-07-2007

Leroy, my friend,

Now that you have chosen to forego the chemo for now, I hope your ride will include that trip — Hawaii? — you were thinking of earlier. When I got my chemo break, I was too tentative about taking action, not quite believing I would be strong enough to both do and enjoy. Did manage a lovely trip to Maine, but missed the chance to return to my more physically taxing volunteer work.

So, please, carpe diem while you can.

Sent by Jan | 12:15 PM ET | 02-09-2007

Thanks for your thoughts, Leroy. For reminding us of process, of journey. Of being in the present.

Sent by Grace Talusan | 1:35 PM ET | 02-09-2007

Here is another one of the thousands of emails you have received that start out "I have cancer..."

I am 34 years old and was diagnosed with colon cancer in September. I have had surgery and am currently going through chemo. In fact, I was supposed to have chemo today but, for the first time, my counts are too low. That mad me feel like a sick person. Don't know why. Maybe because it was tangible — it wasn't pain or fatigue or anything else that I could "get through" but rather a number on a piece of paper that can't be shrugged away.

So, in my haze of self-pity I came across your blog. It's magnificent. Thank you. I feel less alone, less sick and less "other" knowing that all these feelings I'm having have spiraled through your brain as well.

Keep fighting. And screw prognoses — they are for the doctors not us.

Sent by Megan | 3:32 PM ET | 02-09-2007

Leroy,

I am so glad you doing well and it is a chance you will be cancer free sometime soon. I generally do not pray but the other day I was praying for my aunts who passed away from breast cancer I prayed that their sprit help you thru your journey.

Stay strong BROTHER!

Sent by Arzu | 1:38 PM ET | 02-12-2007

I love this quote too. Someone from my school sent it in an emaill and I read it the day of my son's 2nd Anniversary of his death. He lived this way even if it was for a short while. Whether we live long or short lives, we have to live each day knowing it's "a ride". Thanks for sharing. I also have a poster of animals in an ark. The quote below says "we're all in this together".

Sent by Rhonda Lorente | 12:59 PM ET | 05-24-2007