My husband and I both watched the Sopranos Sunday night and were unsettled by the show. My husband has lung cancer that was diagnosed last October (2006) and has just completed radiation and chemo treatment. One has to ask yourself, is this how it will all end for us? It was unsettling and very real for us. It hit close to home.

Sent by Sherry | 7:45 AM ET | 04-17-2007

I have seen a TV programme where a nurse was dx with breast cancer and was back hauling a body 3 weeks later. I feel angry that it portrays a level of ability that does not fit with the sort of treatment and surgery she was reputed to have had. I think it's because it seems to cheapen what I have done or been through and I feel that other people will expect me to behave the same as that actress.
however, I have also felt some discomfort when they have portrayed cancer in a more accurate fashion. perhaps it has just been too close for comfort?
My experience of cancer and the treatments is that some days are great, some are fine and some are horrendous...and all the points in between.
I don't want the hard days trivialising, nor to be seen as taking my last breaths.... its somewhere in between. I am reminded of the sorts of reaction I have had from many epople- its those same 2 polarities...either I have a fun and trendy kind of cancer and will live forever so theer is no need for them to worry about me, or I they look at me as if I will drop dead in front of them as we speak.
Perhaps thats what I want, a kind of middle ground that doesnt dramatise nor trivialise our experiences. Something that shows the highs and lows and the downright boring as well.

Sent by JJ | 7:49 AM ET | 04-17-2007

I can understand your discomfort. I personally do not have cancer but I played a supporting role in my 24 year old brothers 2 year fight against it. He did not win in the end, but he fought hard and attained the goal he set for himself before he died.
There is some gratification in seeing TV get it right the illness is not all rosey check with a slightly thin frame.
Cancer eats you from the inside out and it is not pretty.
That being said to see a close approximation of a cancer paitient on TV is also sort of like getting a glimpse of someone doing something massively personal. It is almost the discomfort of the voyuer.
I can't watch things like that because it brings back all of the emotions, the smells, the feel of his 90 pound body on a six foot two frame and I am back in the grief again.
Thank you for the oportunity to share this.

Sent by Emily | 7:49 AM ET | 04-17-2007

On a lighter note, I was in the audience of the NPR broadcast yesterday and shook Leroy's hand at least a half dozen times...trying to get in some 'touchy feeley' for all of you who were not able to attend. To look at him you would never guess he's been through all that he has but then I guess that's true of a lot of us. It was just good to be in the company of someone who can certainly be a role model for many of us.

For those who listened, he was great, don't you think?

Sent by Geneva | 8:36 AM ET | 04-17-2007

I think JJ hit it right on! The middle ground.

I did get to hear Talk of the Nation last night. Thanks for putting a realistic view of cancer patients out there for all to see.

I also watched, with some discomfort, the Soprano episode. I think part of why this feels so uncomfortable is because we don't know what the end will be like. How long we will struggle, etc.? And as I have mentioned before my concern, how boring will it be?

Sent by Dona | 8:51 AM ET | 04-17-2007

I know a little of what you observed. I want to volunteer at the hospital where I had heart surgery, but I can't (yet) face going back in the hospital even for such a benign reason.

Sent by marilyn tanaka | 9:37 AM ET | 04-17-2007

Leroy,

Maybe programs that graphically depict cancer are good for people who don't know what it is all about, but not so good for those who do.

I am a retired family therapist and most of the time change the channel when I can see the show will be about mental illness. Yet, I think programs that accurately portray mental illness, or documentaries, are really important for the uninitiated.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 9:42 AM ET | 04-17-2007

Art, at its most profound, holds up a mirror to the human soul. Beauty and horror.

As a rape survivor, I find I cannot watch a movie with a rape scene in it. As the adult child of an alcoholic, scenes which depict the terrible things kids suffer due to their parents' disease are very upsetting for me.

I have been in the intimate circle of two beloved who were claimed by cancer. I haven't had to watch a realistic cancer story unfold in dramatic form but I suspect it would be equally difficult to look in that mirror. Nevertheless, art is our human attempt to understand our lives and each other.

I hope the writers for the Sopranos took that responsibility as artists seriously and compassionately.

Sent by CJ | 10:05 AM ET | 04-17-2007

Leroy,

Your blog has been a great help for me dealing with my grandmother's breast cancer. This is the second time she has been diagnosed. The first time she went through chemo and lost her hair, this time (2 yrs later) she has to undergo both chemo and radiation.She has been strong through all this and your blog has helped me understand and stay strong for her. Thank you so much!

Sent by Daphne | 10:14 AM ET | 04-17-2007

When I was on chemo, and even now, I had to chuckle with a bit of a sneer when I saw or see commercials for Procrit or other drugs that are aimed at chemotherapy patients. You know the ones - where the person with cancer gets chemo and has no energy at all, can barely get out of bed. Then, a shot or two of this drug and they have all of the energy in the world. They are back to doing stuff that would tire a totally healthy person. While the drugs are incredible for what they can do, my experience with that stuff did not mirror the miraculous levels of energy portrayed in the commercials.

Sent by Art Ritter | 11:05 AM ET | 04-17-2007

I feel that way too, Leroy. I can't watch "cancer" on tv. It is not entertainment; it's my life. And I feel swallowed up by it too often, so I usually switch to something that speaks to me of life and living,whatever will give me a break from this soap opera I'm already living.

Sent by Kate | 11:14 AM ET | 04-17-2007

Leroy,
I have tryed to call the show yesterday but I didn't make it in time. To may people ahead of me.
I am a 3 years cancer survivior and after two surgeryes and a chemo treatment I was laied off from my job that provided me with health incurance. I have carried the "cobra" for the maximum that you can carry (18 months)but now is over.
I try to look with optymism to my future but as you said at the begeining, once you get that tremendeus news ("you have cancer") life is not the same.
I found another job, but unfortunately, the owner cann't offer health insurance.
I try to buy my own insurance but every time apply,I get rejected.
Do you have any knolege about this issue? Do you think that I have applied to the wrong insurance co.?
What should I do?
I would appreciate if you or anyone who read this will give me some advise. I am new in this country and I don't know all the ways in this matter.

Thank you for your time!
Gabriela

Sent by Gabriela Zamfir | 11:27 AM ET | 04-17-2007

You say, "I'm just not sure I want to see it." Neither do I! It seems to me that that kind of denial is just a natural way of trying to protect our emotions.We want to stay feisty and (maybe?) be admired for refusing to let cancer get us down. But we do know the reality -- that for some of us, the ups and downs will turn into mostly downs. So a realistic portrayal of people at that stage would be not about being "in the middle" but something heartbreakingly sad and hard to look at. Personally, I think that more than fearing a painful death, I dread being separated, seen as "Other" -- looked at with pity or revulsion. Seeing someone else in that position makes me squirm because I can't help wondering then if I'll be in his shoes someday.

Sent by Doris | 11:53 AM ET | 04-17-2007

Leroy, I thank you and thank God for you and your blog. My brother has glioblastoma stage 4. Surgery, radiation and chemo concurrently, and now chemo every other week. I am reading a little bit each day starting with your first entry in 2-06 and moving forward. I will notify my brother to your blog too. I know he will aprreciate reading it! God speed and keep up the great work.

Sent by Megan | 3:28 PM ET | 04-17-2007

I have stage IV lung cancer and as I was watching the Sopranos and Johnny Sack was told he had stage IV, the first thing out of my mouth was "welcome to the club." When he asked another guy for a cigarette, I thought "why the hell not". I thought it hilarious that the orderly was an oncologist and also a three time murderer. (I have a warped sense of humor). What surprised me the most was the other guy smoking and Sack dragging his oxygen machine around. I have not smoked in 35 years but then I got to thinking.....maybe just light up a cigarette, pour a glass of good scotch, open the valve to the oxygen machine and go out in a big bang. But no.....I fight the fight, do not ask for prognosis and just keep on plugging away.

Sent by Cherie Cuneo | 4:43 PM ET | 04-17-2007

I know what you mean. I seem to have a facination with cancer & want to read about it often. If I'm watching a video with a cancer patient I always want to time it so that it is still daylight when it's over (or else I just can't shake it off & get to sleep). I think reading & watching in an impersonal way helps me process what happened & deal obliquely with my fears for the future. Talking about it with a friend or relative is still too emotional for me even 4 years after my treatment ended. I think we all have to approach it in our own way. Sometimes we're attracted to these stories & sometimes we need to stay away.

Sent by LJ | 4:49 PM ET | 04-17-2007

Leroy,

I don't even bother watching shows like The Sopranos. America is a nothing but a "self-centered, it's all about me", mostly fat or obese bunch of self-serving knotheads led by a President with a brain about the size of a pea. When Houston had its now imfamous evacuation from Hurricane Rita, (which didn't affect us at all), I just smiled with glee watching all of those SUV's, Suburbans and pick up trucks stuck in grid lock on the freeways on TV. ME! ME! ME! Get out my way! My toy French poodle bites! The nearest gas station is about a mile away, so just pee by the side of the truck. Nobody will care.

I have had cancer for eight years now. I don't think watching a show that deals with cancer would bother me in the least. But why not try watching some "make over" show instead where an ugly duckling becomes a Cinderella? Or how about some tasteless married couple getting a house makeover? Americans are culturely bi-polar. They'll watch a little girl being dug out of well, send her money because they feel sorry for her. Firemen are her heros! On the other hand, they love "sudden death" tragedies like those of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe because they know they will never be glamorous "like them" It's part of our pop culture heritage. Eat, drink, and be merry and screw the rest of the world! I'm important because I drive a Mercedes, or a Lexus, or BMW. Who really gives a flip?

Everyday, we sweep "cancer" under the rug because of its negative connotations. Die? Oh my Gawd! I'm going to die? Yeh, not from cancer though; probably from a heart attack from being so fat and out of shape. There are dozens of fat burning pills out there to choose from. Take one and you will feel better in the morning. Just don't go to the beach for a couple of years! The animal activists will try and drag you back into the ocean, haha!

Everyday, 11,000 children die of starvation in third world countries and yet, school cafeteria trash cans in America are virtually full of good, nutritional, uneaten food thrown in there from fat no-neck monsters who have opted for fast food. Who cares? It's all about me and what I wANT to eat, burp, fart! That was impolite but I have no social manners, so who cares?

When my uncle had unoperable brain cancer in 1983, it was difficult to visit him because of his crying and screams of pain. He was scared sh!tl8$$ of dying. Yet, I baptized him and gave him his first Holy Communion a few days before he died. I wept through both rituals. It was very tough but somehow I got through them. I talked with him about being with his Lord soon and he eventually calmed down and was ready to go.

I'm sticking to my positive attitude and higher power (The Holy Trinity, to most people) stance of enduring (not battling) cancer. Bring on the chemo drips!

Hmmm. Where can I get a really good Chicago style hot dog after work today?

Sent by Larry Hamm | 6:12 PM ET | 04-17-2007

My husband, age 54, was diagnosed with lung cancer last September after our daughters wedding. He has undergone a lobectomy and a surgical resection of small lung tumors. Now he is getting Chemo weekly. We are avid Soprano fans and watched the last show featuring Johnny Sacks and his death due to lung cancer. It was difficult, but real. It was frightening and well done. I too was worried about the oxygen and the lighting up in such close proximity. BOOM!!! but no....
I heard you speak on NPR yesterday and just found your web site. That was a great show. I listened again today. "Cancer" is a weird club to be in.
Lung cancer has shaken us to our core and I don't know how to live anymore. I hope that we can find a way to be happy again. My husband quit smoking at the time of his diagnosis, but it seems to be painful to him everyday.'I fear the cancer- he fears life without cigarettes....

Sent by Debbie | 6:43 PM ET | 04-17-2007

Hi Leroy,

I'm usually an avid listener of NPR, but honestly, things have been a little crazy in my life the past year and my listening is spotty. My husband was diagnosed a year ago with rectal cancer; in July a biopsy showed that the spots in his lungs previously thought of as "histoplasmosis" were, in fact, cancerous tumors. He went from Stage III to Stage IV faster than a formula racing car.

A friend called me yesterday and told me to tune in pronto to "Talk of the Nation." I didn't get the message in time, so I listened to your podcast, and started reading your blog. I cried. I laughed. I smiled because your experiences are parallel with what Richard and I have experienced since April 23, 2006. Ups and downs, highs and lows, expectation, frustration, contemplation. Holding each other in the night following a 6-hour chemo treatment. Going into the blood draw room at MD Anderson and seeing a waiting room filled with people of all ages, genders, races in varying stages of their disease. Going into a waiting room at Siteman Cancer Center and seeing different faces, but hearing similar stories. Going into the rather intimate chemo room at Kansas City Cancer Central and being elbow-to-elbow with the same potpourri of people, all hooked up to their bags of poison.

The one very important thing we've learned as a couple is that we absolutely have to take it one day at a time. And that we have to open up and be vulnerable to our support group. I started a blog on the CaringBridge website, and that's become an important tool in "dealing with it." Thank you for your honesty, grace and humor. I used to think there was a "right" way to deal with a catastrophic illness. Now I know, watching my husband and learning from him, that there is no right way.

Sent by Kimberly Stern | 8:27 PM ET | 04-17-2007

Dear Leroy and communiy:

When faced with total disregard for life through suicide killings in Iraq and then tragically on an American campus, let us appreciate one man's reverence, and devotion to his wife and friend for so many years. Dayton Curtis, we are with you as you acknowldge your loss of your wife and we thank you for returning to this blog upon the death of your wife. For all who disregard the sacredness of one life, many stand viligantly by another. Dayton did that for his wife through her cancer.

Sent by Susan P. | 9:25 PM ET | 04-17-2007

Most of the "doctor" shows in prime-time don't really quite get it, and in the span of an hour long show, nobody is shown getting the news that they're cancer free or NED - after all, who gets cured of cancer on TV? The TV patients mostly show a brave struggle and overcome a complication or they die a dramatic death by the end of the hour. They never quite get the whole picture of who we are, and until these shows get writers who have some experience with the subject matter, we'll just have to wait.

Please thank Ari Schoenholtz for going the extra mile to try to get me into a studio on Monday, but it was just too complicated to do that and catch my plane back from vacation. I did try to dial in while heading for the airport, but between spotty cell phone coverage and busy signals, I couldn't get through. Great show - I just wish it could have gone on for another hour. And as it turned out, my plane was delayed for several hours because of the bad weather in the east and I probably could have gone to the studio.

Sent by Bob Maimone | 12:15 AM ET | 04-18-2007

I have just noted a headline at the top right of this page that says "leroy sievers on Talk of the Nation. Leroy sievers discusses his battle with cancer on NPR's Talk of the Nation.
Am I wrong in thinking you were not keen on the use of battle metaphors???

Sent by JJ | 5:09 AM ET | 04-18-2007

Yes cancer sucks! And sometimes we don't want to be reminded through a too realistic TV portrayal. I have a Stage 4 cholangiocarcinoma. Yuk. I am writing this comment, however, from a somewhat different perspective than I think you felt, Leroy. There are many folks "out there" with life threatening or potential life diminishing disabilities, in addition to cancer survivors (we are all survivors until we die, right?). People with quadriplegia, autoimmune diseases like multiple sclorosis and crohn's disease, Alzheimer's disease, and so forth. All of in such boats have been given a difficult hand in the poker game of life. Somehow I find comfort in thinking about myself as a member of this broader "community" and in realizing that love and compassion go a long way in helping us all to support one another.

Sent by Andy Halpern | 8:10 AM ET | 04-18-2007

My father died of lung cancer on October 13, 1998. It was a tough process to watch. It was also tough to watch Johnny Sack and his family on Sunday night - it brought back all the hurt and hopelesness of watching someone you love with all your soul leave you. But, it was affirming, too. Watching my dad and seeing Johnny go brought it home again that we only get one ride, so make the best of it. I applaud David Chase for having the courage to show what it's like for someone with cancer at the end. I also applaud Johnny for being a man who loved women of a certain size and was not afraid to share his feelings for his wife with the world. To me, and my dad, it was and is all about love, no matter what happens at the end.

Sent by Pootz | 12:29 PM ET | 04-18-2007

Leroy, I, too, saw the Sopranos episode and groaned out loud when the Dr. gave Johnny Sack his diagnosis. Small cell cancer took my mother's life several years ago. It was swift and awful for her. Astonishingly, I actually felt empathy and sadness for this character! If you are a devoted Sporanos fan, you know just how hateful they all are. I thought it was an inspired bit of writing and acting, to make real life so tangible in a world so foreign. BTW, you were great on TOTN.

Sent by Amy | 3:29 PM ET | 04-18-2007

When my late Wife was going through cancer treatment, I would occasionally get told about someones friend who was cured by going to a place in Mexico. I knew it was all BS. I always thought how horrible it was for these places to take advantage of people who are going through this, I also thought that if it were true then I knew of a room full of patients that I see weekly who would love a cure like that. The trouble with the media is we are given too much of a Hollywood look at cancer. I saw a little bit of the Soprano's and thought at least they were trying to make it look real. Too many people dont know what it is really like, they need to be informed so maybe the media could get it right and some of those places with cures would disappear. Good luck Leroy my heart is with you

Sent by Daniel Friend | 7:47 PM ET | 04-18-2007

Your "Hitting Too Close To Home" message reminded me of a similar experience I had. I went through chemo for breast cancer in the Spring/Summer of 2005. The following December my friend's mother was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. During her treatment, I gave her a nice blue polka dotted head scarf that I wore all the time when I lost my hair. Anyhow, my friend's mother died several months later and when I went to the open casket viewing, low and behold the dearly departed was wearing my beautiful silk scarf around her head. My heart just fell into my stomach when I looked across the room to see this lifeless body in a coffin wearing my way-too-familiar scarf. It was like I saw myself lying there - a snapshot of what was to come for me. As I have moved through time farther away from cancerland, I don't think this image would effect me the same way today. But at that time, it did hit too close to home. Thankfully, my home seems farther away now.

Sent by June, New Jersey | 9:45 PM ET | 04-18-2007