the day i first pulled my car into the wende logan breast clinic i could not find a parking space and i wondered why??!!! it must be a medical conference i innocently thought. when i came out of the clinic 4 hours later with a positive diagnosis for cancer the parking lot was still full...full of women with CANCER. at that moment i wanted to take a baseball bat and smash every car window for the anger i felt at being given this diagnosis. now mind you, i don't look violent in any way shape or form! i was a petite, blonde picture of innocence and in the healthiest shape for a woman of almost 49. how could this be happening ...i do not drink ,smoke or for that matter eat red meat! in a matter of a sentance from the doctor "it doesn't look good, you need to go home and prepare yourself" i was transformed into a violent maniac!!!
almost 9 months have passed since that friday in july 2006 and i now have the "cancer look"with that scarf i wear around my bald head and inside my head ,i have the "cancer knowledge"...the kind of knowledge that only a cancer patient and their caregivers can feel because cancer caused our worlds to be turned inside out upside down..FOREVER.

Sent by marianne dalton | 8:22 AM ET | 04-13-2007

Hi Leroy

I have taken PTO so I can listen to Monday's show. I've been anxiously awaiting the Disney channel special and have been telling my cancer and non-cancer friends to tune in. Leroy, thanks for giving the rest of us a voice.

Thoughts on the "fight" word. Initially, I too used that word when first diagnosed. I was going to fight this with everything I have and more. I knew I would find more fight within me somehow. As I discovered, my initial fight was really extreme anger at the unfairness of life. But that was okay, the anger helped me through those devastating first few months. Now, I prefer to use "acceptance". I've had to learn to accept cancer and make it part of my life. I've had to take it out to lunch with me a few times to make peace with it because sometimes I allow the cancer fears to get out of line. Now, this doesn't mean that I'm passively sitting back and allowing cancer to take over my life. Nothing is further from the truth. It is wise to know your enemy and keep the enemy friendly. I have found that if you use cancer wisely rather than cancer using you, life becomes richer.

I will be listening on Monday. Keep the faith.

Sent by Kathy Bauer | 11:20 AM ET | 04-13-2007

Leroy, I've been thinking about the changes that cancer brings about also. I don't think I'm a "better person". I think I'm a more selfish person. I'm not willing to put up with people in my life anymore who are takers without being givers. I'm more willing to say no. And I'm more willing to spend money and time on myself. I had dreams while being chemo-sick that I would spend time doing some good thing for others. But for now, I'm just interested in getting my career back on track and getting to the gym to get my body back in shape. Hopefully, I'll have time to be that "better person" someday.

Sent by Marcia | 11:32 AM ET | 04-13-2007

When my son was diagnosed, my husband and I was in a daze....we didn't know what to expect and just took one day and one crisis at a time. It was an unimaginable nightmare. My son has been off chemo for four years now. There were a few scares in the beginning and I couldn't handle it. I did not cry in front of my son when he was first diagnosed. But I bursted into tears and cry uncontrollably in front of him when the doctor ordered more tests because of something suspicious. I think since I know what to expect, I'm even more nervous and scared. My son still has quarterly check ups now. I am usually depressed and anxious for the week before the appointments. I think knowing what to expect make me more nervous than not knowing.

I think if I was the patient, I would take care of everything around me (if I have the energy) to make sure everyone I love is taken care of when I die. However, when my son was in ICU, I coudn't bear the thought of losing him and having to clean up his room afterwards. I think it is harder on family members than it is on the patient himself to watch your love one suffer and dies.

Sent by Grace | 11:54 AM ET | 04-13-2007

I can understand where Marianne is coming from. We had to visit the clinic this week...seems my husband is "starving" to death, having lost another 10lbs since March 14, 20 lbs since Janary 1, 07 and 55 lbs since "cancer". (He was 6'2", 225 lbs and in great shape before.)

In many ways, it was like old home week althought it had been only a couple of months since the last visit. Many of the staff greeted us by first name, with hugs and concerned questions about my husband's extremely altered appearance and hindered mobility....they did not know about the most recent hospital stay from catching a hospital related infection.

To the "newer" patients this must have seemed very much VIP treatment and as heads turned, I know they were wondering "who are these people?" especially with Burge's refugee appearance.

On the surface, this celeb treatment is quite a rush, almost making you feel "special" until you realize that despite the genuine friendship, our membership in this group is only temporary and that at some point, those "newer" patients will take our place.

This visit was a good one, we came away with a renewed hope and determination to add weight so Burge can go into possible clinical trials and return later to see our friends at the clinic.

But for us, the standard treatment is over, we are career cancer patient and caregiver, but every time we travel home TOGETHER it is another victory in the fight, cope, or whatever you call it. We take each day as a gift and determine to make it our best yet.

(To the monitor: I wrote another comment just moments ago, but as I started to send it, my computer flickered and I lost it. If this is a repeat, pick the one you like best, or combine them as you see fit :>)

Sent by Nikki | 12:02 PM ET | 04-13-2007

Leroy,

Among many other things that come with a cancer dx is the need for adjustment. New life, new emotions, new limitations, new expansions, new philosophy, new goals, new routines, new people,etc., etc. No wonder it is such a big deal. EVERYTHING is different and much is unknown. It appears you have adjusted well since you did not react to this last episode the same way you did when you first learned you had cancer. To me, that is a mark of maturity as well as courage. Catch you Monday if I possibly can.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 12:13 PM ET | 04-13-2007

Yes, I know what you mean about first impressions of those words, "You have cancer." and later words on the same subject. When I was told I had breast cancer last August, I was placed in a daze. When I left the doctor's office I wondered where I should go. It seemed odd to just go home. What do I do after news like that....vaccuum the living room. I am so behind the times that I still do not carry a cell, so calling with the news was not something I could do immediately. Pay phones are nearly non-existent and an e-mail message on the laptop seemed like a weird thing to do.. Somehow I managed. I awoke each morning and wondered if it was all a bad dream and filled with incredible horror, I realized it was real in a very surreal way.

Now I go through doctor's visits, cat scans, blood tests, etc. READY to hear the worse. I have been lucky....no bad news, YET! I know I would be so much calmer, however, with the bad news just because I know the routine of the bad news of cancer. A problem is relayed, some medical suggestion are made, I make the decsion, and I move on with the fight. I am calmer now because I know I do not have to worry about dying today, wheras on the day I was first told, I thought my death was just around the corner. So, yes, I know what you mean when you speak about getting used to the cancer. If I hadn't gotten used to it, I would have lost my mind and you need to be clear-thinking when you are fighting cancer. Time may not cure, but it heals. Susan P.

Sent by Susan P. | 12:47 PM ET | 04-13-2007

I think cancer changes everyone involved, whether it be the person facing the disease to your caretakers around you, to even your physicians. It permeates everything.

Patients frequently tell me that they 'panic' less when they hear news about their disease, similar to how you have described your situation.

I look forward to speaking with you and others on the program Monday.

Thank you again for sharing your life with the world, and myself, whether it be through the blog, TV, or other mediums.

Keep on drumming Leroy.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 1:50 PM ET | 04-13-2007

LS
A friend of mine just turned me on to your "My Cancer" site. I was diagnosed with Colon Cancer in August. The cancer was removed and I was told the margins were great and no radiation or chemo was needed. On March 5th I had brain surgery and they removed a ping pong ball size tumor. They also found three cancer spots on my lungs. Sound familiar? Radiation and Chemo has begun. I have started with your first posting back in 2/06 and working my way to the present. You have inspired me and more importantly helped me mentally. I???ve had and continue to have the exact same thoughts, fears and feelings about life, death, friends and family. Thank you for sharing your story. You are making me laugh and cry, and that???s a good thing. I???m going out next week to buy 2 new suits for when I go back to work! I look forward to all your future postings.

Sent by Chick Cervenka | 6:12 PM ET | 04-13-2007

On those occasions when I disclose that I've been treated for cancer (today was one), people look at me in surprise because as a health-conscious, physically fit person with all of my hair, no one imagines I've been there. I also quickly assure them that I'm fine now. I still see my doctors. And I find it remarkable that I am so comfortable with cancer, cancer treatments and effects, doctors and cancer-related checkups. For me that normal life, and I am used to it. What a change from when I first faced cancer as a patient! And it is empowering to know that while it can be difficult, it can be done.

I will be listening to you online from my cube in Cube-ville. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and insights, your experiences, giving the rest of us a voice and showing that life isn't over with a diagnosis.

Sent by Lilly T. | 8:20 PM ET | 04-13-2007

I remember reading somewhere that one of Napolean's marshals said that nothing focuses the mind like the prospect of dying. Having been through this, I agree. You get certain things out of the way, wills, funeral plans, etc. and then deal with living.

People worried that I was in denial. The truth was that I had taken care of things so that I could move on with living and treating my cancer.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that once you've been there, your whole life is different.

Sent by crawford | 9:26 PM ET | 04-13-2007

Options equal hope.

You asked the other day, what do you do to fight cancer? I???m the caregiver for my 47 year old wife and mother of our 7 and 5 year olds who was diagnosed last year with Stage 4 lung cancer (she never smoked). After soul searching, looking for spiritual direction and motivation to fight with the grace and courage my wife has demonstrates, I???m now finding myself becoming more of a political activist. The more I experience the struggles cancer brings to my family and those around us, the more I read of others fighting on, including the beautiful and heroic journeys of your listeners and blogging contributors, I try to do what I feel most fit to do ??? motivate others to see the solutions before us to create more options for cancer patients.

One of the solutions I see is more funding for cancer research. As our oncologist said when describing clinical trial options, ???Options equal hope.??? Well options require money and we need lots more options and lots more money.

So here???s my proposal. Let???s all lobby our state governments to use a significant portion of their cigarette company settlement money to fund cancer research. In 1998, the states won an enormous victory against the cigarette companies enabling them to reap over $250 billion over the next 25 years. That???s billions, not millions! Annual funding for most cancer research is measured in millons, not billions. Unfortunately, the majority of cigarette settlement funds are used to help fund projects unrelated to smoking and cancer, like those for roads, bridges and prisons. So in essence the profits cigarette companies made by giving millions of people lung cancer have been transferred to the states so they can use it to balance their budgets. Imagine if states allocated a significant portion of those funds to cancer research (not just lung cancer research).

I???d love to hear what others think of this solution. In fact, I???d love for Talk of the Nation and Ted Koppel???s Discovery program to pick up on this perspective.

Sent by Dennis Reilly | 9:57 PM ET | 04-13-2007

My sister died from a rare form of cancer called chondrosarcoma two months ago. She was 44, was a single Mom, and left a six-year old son behind.

For all the stories of survivors, there are the stories of those who did not make it and who left behind families and friends. But as sad as they may be, the legacy of those who have fought cancer will never be forgotten. I kept a blog of my sister's fight. She wanted people to share in her story.

www.xanga.com/jackieshinohara

People who died from cancer didn't lose the fight. They simply found peace.

Sent by Joseph Lee | 10:57 PM ET | 04-13-2007

I know that this will seem offensive and wrong to many people, and I HONESTLY do not mean to dismiss anyone hurting due to events at Virginia Tech. But--I find that I am no longer in shock or incapacitated by traumatic world events after starting my own episode with cancer about 10 years ago.

I remember hearing people feel like their lives were "totally changed" or "turned upside down" after the Sept 11 attacks, and I recall wondering if there was something wrong with me, since my life felt no different. I had lost any sense of "safety" or "security" earlier, when cancer reminded me that I was not in control of my own life. None of us are. Yes, I grieved for all those who died in that incident as I did for those in Hurricane Katrina or now for the students/faculty/gunman, but it's not like I am totally obsessed with this as many people seem to be.

It's certainly not something I ever volunteer in a group conversation, as I'm sure someone won't understand. I'm curious. Do other cancer survivors feel this way?

Sent by too chicken to leave my name | 5:07 PM ET | 04-19-2007