I was just thinking the other day.....I am glad they've kept me alive this long so I can see the final episodes of the Sopranos.

Sent by Cherie Cuneo | 5:30 PM ET | 04-08-2007

Leroy, I'm so happy that you're at this good point. My advice is to fight for heath in every way you can. We all know that cancer can surprise us and that no diet or lifestyle change is a cure or guarantee to keep it away. But some things will promote health, build the immune system, and give you strength. When my husband had advanced cancer we seriously researched these. We felt that they extended his life.
Now, I still practice many of these changes in diet, sleep, exercise and stress management. His illness and death were devastating, but I have not been ill since making these changes - not a cold, a headache, or anything close to having a day of sickness. No, I have no guarantee of health, but it feels good to work for it. When life spins out of control, finding something that you can do that makes a difference makes you feel strong. Keep fighting Leroy. Enjoy your new health and fight with every tool in the box to keep it. No guarantees and no regrets.

Sent by Laura | 5:32 PM ET | 04-08-2007

Bravo!

Sent by Sandra Peek | 5:45 PM ET | 04-08-2007

Yes, I know how you feel, Leroy! When I was diagnosed with Stage III Rectal Cancer in 2000, I wondered if I would be around to see the next Presidential election, to read the hundreds of books that I meant to read, to see the changes in my favorite publications; not to mention the changes in my child or those whom I loved. The thought that newspapers would go on without me, that music would be created, that people would discover a cure one day for the cancer that might kill me, was mystifying. I was envious; I was amazed.

Then, suddenly, the CEA dropped to

After the CEA plunge, chemo and radiation; after beginning to feel better, I examined my career and gave College English and Humanities teaching a rest and dove into earning a Masters Degree in Holistic Health Studies. Every day of study, every aspect of wellness learned, every aspect of life newly felt was a present--and it still is.

Eventually the degree was earned and I had to return to teaching while establishing myself in this new field. And, surprisingly, teaching is just fine!

Give yourself the opportunity to fly. See what happens. You deserve it!

Sent by Deborah | 8:40 PM ET | 04-08-2007

I'm with you Laura. When the surgeries, chemo, and radiation ended I felt like I wasn't doing anything actively to fight the cancer. My naturopath told me that of course I was, with my very clean diet, excercise, and relaxation. I don't know if my cancer will be back, but I do know that I actually feel better now than I have in years. I suspect the cancer had been growing for a long time and I had been unwittingly fueling it.Prior to my diagnosis I came down with walking pneumonia, bronchitis, and allergies (which I'd never had) so severe that I couldn't function.At least now if it does come back I know absolutely that I have done everything possible to prevent it, plus I feel so much better.
Leroy, it sounds like you're ready to touch base with your old self. Go for it!!

Sent by patricia | 9:09 PM ET | 04-08-2007

Leroy,
I've never read a blog and the few posts and journals re cancer I've read just further depreseed me. I just read your April 6th post. ... Everything you said was what I've thought to myself the past three years battling breast cancer. It was a relief to read amd connect to another person's thoughts.

Sent by Anna | 3:55 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Leroy, please translate this blog, content and comments into a book. Wishing you all the best,
Thales

Sent by Thales | 6:54 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Hey Leroy,
Just a note about the cancer marker blood test. My numbers went up after spending the previous afternoon with friends who smoke. Apparently second hand smoke affects the test. Who knew?
I'm really glad you're still a journalist, you've created such a supportive community. Thanks!

Sent by Katie | 7:18 AM ET | 04-09-2007

...and I'll live to endure yet another season of Survivor.

I am so happy to read, Leroy, that you're thinking has taking flight into the future. I, too, have put a long career in health care communications on hold, but actually called a beloved client last week and asked if they still could use this old hand. I'm not sure I really feel up to it, as I'm still undergoing chemo, but it feels right to try.

I'd love to hear Laura's diet, sleep, exercise and stress management ideas. There are so many quackish ideas out there, that I could use anything that actually works.

Sent by Jordis | 7:23 AM ET | 04-09-2007

My niece and nephew just reminded me that growing up isn't all it's made out to be. They are 4 and 7 and just saw their aunt without hair for the first time. So did the rest of my family for that matter. At first the 4 y.o. Abby said I "can put my wig back on" and David agreed. But that all changed when I pulled out the face paints. Their mom was out picking up some last minute Easter items and had no idea what we were going to do to the house. First we started with our faces and then my partner said she wanted to paint my head. They paused, nodded ok and away they went. I have to give David most of the credit, he did the entire back of my head. Abby painted my face. Nothing like seeing the smiling face of a kid approaching you with a glob of paint ready to be smeared all over your face. They made me forget about cancer and didn't ask once how I was feeling.
Good luck on all your lab work and scans Leroy. I'm always thinking about them.

Sent by Lisa | 7:42 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Hi Leroy;

Easter was a good day all around -- and I could say many of our prayers have been answered.

My friend T is going back to work, after 4 Months of Chemo... and You're getting "back in the saddle again".

If I learned anything from following this thread, It can all come back around. The key is how you use the circumstances you are given.

Ordinarily I wouldn't presume to tell anyone what to do, because I don't know my own answer either...but here is a modest proposal.

From my right brain: Follow your heart. Hold on to those things that are beautiful and true.

My left brain says: You have a gift in journalism and the best experiences. You are on the leading edge of a new type of journalism that synthesizes the web and broadcast. This is the wave of the future, in some way. Maybe you can use these gifts to take on several projects like this one, in various topic areas. I'm sure your other colleagues need you as a member of the team.

Emile

Sent by Emile Bellott | 8:35 AM ET | 04-09-2007

If Sanjaya can make you smile... and keep you focused on the present... kudos to him... (despite his voice, his hair is so much more entertaining)..

Keeping little milestones.. whether it be seeing the end of the Sopranos, to witnessing a college graduation or a birth of a grandchild, is what my patients look forward too..

Everyday, i'm faced with faces who teach me that it is taking time to appreciate the time spent 'smelling the roses' that are important rather than the 'winning the gold' milestones.

You are a blogger.. that is one of your 'jobs'...and it's quite the important one for me, and others you have touched on a regular basis.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 9:04 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Looking ahead to the future - it's a good feeling! I printed today's column as a keeper to keep me looking ahead. Like you or anyone else in this world, I have no guarantees, but hey, why not plan? I'm happy for you! May future news all be good! For everyone!

Sent by Marcia Greer | 9:05 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Great that you are thinking of joining the ranks of those who are strong enough to contribute to building our community. There is a big need for reporters of the truth. Bravery is telling it like it is and you know how to do that.

There are stories that are waiting for you to find them so you can expain then to those of us who need to hear them.

You Go Guy!

Sent by Free Polazzo | 9:16 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Hey, maybe not fast food but I know you love coffee...I hear Starbucks has great health insurance! (Please keep your day job though!)
I'm glad you liked the quote I sent in last week. It has been very inspiring to me since I read it. I'm going to hear a lecture by Dr. Reimen in a few weeks.
Keep up the good spirits and enjoy the spring!

Sent by Martha | 9:51 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Leroy,

I love your attitude! Why not just go on about your business of being a journalist and if it comes back, it comes back. I think WAITING - for a test, or a sign, etc. - is deadly. It kills your spirit to live that way. That terrible thing that people say to cancer patients about being run over by a bus does have one lesson: are you going to wait for the bus? Take the blessing of time you have and run with it.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 10:39 AM ET | 04-09-2007

I just wanted to thank you for writing about your feelings with all of this- as an oncology nurse, I have learned so much from you- I am with my patients alot for 1-2 weeks, but learning the day to day trials, thoughts and fears has really helped me understand more of this disease, and how it affects the whole person- every aspect of thier life. You have made me a better nurse! Thank you

Sent by Krista | 10:47 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Hi Leroy,
I too have stage IV cc, diagnosed Jan 2006 when I was 40. This week I will turn 42 and my short term goal was to see my 43rd birthday, as I was told that I had a year to 16 months to live. I had my liver resected in Jan 2007 just as you were undergoing RFA for the first time. My CEA level has risen and now we are trying to determine what the cause is before I begin chemo once again. I totally understand your job vs. career thinking and am fortunite to have found my 'career' prior to being diagnosed and now have the benefit of health insurnance and long term disability so i can make my new career one of beating this cancer by living a healthy lifestyle, and helping others with dealing with their cancer. I am looking forward to celabrating my birthday, as the it sure beats the other option.
Wishing you well during this transition. You are truely an inspiration!

Sent by Wendy Mundell | 11:59 AM ET | 04-09-2007

Wow Leroy! To think that last summer you were undecided about buying a new pair of pants. Here's to your continued good health!

Sent by Sheara | 12:05 PM ET | 04-09-2007

OK Laura....spill about the regimens that actually work! Like Jordis, I'm tired of the quacks parading their ideas by me. And if the cancer comes back, the quacks shake their heads and say..well..she never took my advice. I'd like to investigate Laura's deal. Go for it Leroy...keep moving forward!

Sent by Beth | 12:07 PM ET | 04-09-2007

Leroy,
Write! Write and speak about your experience. Your ability to get to the heart of the cancer matter is extraordinary. Patients and families need to hear what you have to say.

I am a long term colon cancer survivor who was forced by complications of this illness to retire early. I have found a new life in cancer advocacy, mostly online writing.

Your voice is unique. Perhaps this newly found time will give you a special way to use it.

Sent by Kate Murphy | 1:13 PM ET | 04-09-2007

Leroy, just when I was feeling down and depressed I read your blog. Suddenly the bad ache in my heart went away. Thank you for your honesty and your thoughts. You have reaffirmed my belief in good things happening to good people. Recently, I lost a good friend to cancer. Despite knowing he wouldn't want us grieving, it has been very difficult. Your words have truly helped me understand what I was feeling. If you'd like to, please visit his website. I think you and Joe could have had a good laugh together. http://www.joemurphymemorialfund.org/

Sent by Karen from Kalifornia | 2:09 PM ET | 04-09-2007

Hello - Thank you for writing about your struggle. My daughter-in-law is fighting leukemia (ALL) t(4,11). I invite you to read her story www.anngregory.blogspot.com.

Sent by D. Gregory | 4:31 PM ET | 04-09-2007

In response to the questions other readers had about the health practices I referred to - none of it is more than what we all read and hear. The change is just that I really do it. I used to cheat myself w/ six hours of sleep, no daily exercise, a moderate but typical American diet. When John developed liver cancer we went to a nutritionist who said that the liver is a filter, catching all the bad stuff that we eat, breathe, and rub on our skin - usually successfully. But when it's fighting cancer and we still keep it busy filtering, we can't expect it to do either very well. He advised us to avoid all that stuff you see on the labels and can't pronounce - the stuff you say "I don't know what it is, but I guess it won't kill me." He advised us to shop the perimeter of the grocery store - the fresh foods without additives or preservatives and to choose fruits and vegetables, lean chicken and fish, organic when we could get it... you know, all the stuff we've heard before.
The difference is that I feel like these choices are delightful to me. When I "cheat", I cheat myself. I get excited about cooking simple, healthful meals and am no longer drawn to heavily fried, artificial, or sugary foods. I love a piece of dark chocolate, a glass of wine, or a great desert. But they're treats that are worth indulging in because I didn't eat that sausage biscuit or cheese covered broccoli.
John used to get lots of allergies and sinus infections. When we got off of dairy as the nutritionist advised us, he never had them again. Neither have I. For three years now (knock on wood!) I have not had an hour of illness. Obviously the grief of losing my beloved husband has been a terrible stress, but I counter that with a new set of priorities about time. I know how precious it is and I choose carefully. I smell the roses, take time to enjoy life, and only do work that I believe is worthy of my time.
My exercise is morning yoga and using light weights. I'm 54, but feeling stronger that I have in decades.
That's it. Nothing we don't all know. It's just that now it feels like giving to myself instead of denying myself. I hope this helps.

Sent by Laura | 9:24 PM ET | 04-09-2007

Personally Leroy, I think you should get a little crazy and start wearing mismated socks and take a fly casting class. There is that old adage, "Do I have a career path or a job trail?" Screw waiting for the cancer to reappear and do something that tickles your very core. I suspect that after cancer, you can handle some changes to your short and long term goals planning. How about curling? A little chilly but sort of like chess on ice. Just a few things for you to ponder. Pat Z.

Sent by Pat Zalewski | 10:49 PM ET | 04-09-2007

Leroy,
Just before my surgery for esophageal cancer, almost a year ago, an experienced survivor said to me,
"The bad news is you're going to live."
Months later I came to understand what she meant. My surgeon, knowing that I've run a few marathons, told me, "This is going to be the biggest marathon of your life." He was right. I knew how to train and so I trained for my treatment, for chemo, surgery and then chemo again. Just like in a marathon, there were people cheering along the way. I was inspired and encouraged by the intense level of support I received.
What the surgeon didn't mention, and what the survivor implied, is that with most cancer marathons, there is no finish line. We run and run. Sometimes our goal is to get through the day, sometimes it is to just get through the next five minutes. We focus, we endure and we persevere. We make it, but to what?
My tumors were cut out and so far I'm clean. I'm happy and grateful. But now what? During the year and a half that I was in treatment I could not work. In the meantime the bills kept comming. The world kept turning. The cheering has stopped and I no longer am forced to focus on getting through a single day. So now what?
I appreciate your humor in this matter, as well as the rest of your writings. We have a lot to laugh about, comming this close to death. But you ask a good question; "What do I want to do when I grow up?"
I'm so happy to hear that your treatments have proven to be affective. I'm happy to hear that your suffering has been reduced. My hope for you, and all of us who've been attacked by this beast, is that you will find a future, a purpose and a direction to pursue.
Sometimes I think it is easier to breath through the intense pain, make our body get out of bed and take those first few steps, back to the land of the living, than it is to look at the future before us and try to figure out what to do.
All the best to you Leroy, amd may you soon find that vision of who you want to be as you grow old.

Sent by JPF | 11:17 PM ET | 04-09-2007

I guess I'm the iconoclast in the bunch. Will people please stop saying that we're "fighting" cancer. I have a rare, incurable lymphoma. My chances of getting it were 1 in 400,000. My immune system -- my T-cells -- are the culprits. Do I "strengthen" my immune system by eating healthy foods? Or will that just nourish my cancer?

Life is short. Eat dessert first. I don't want a life -- however long or short -- to be one of deprivation! What's the fun in that? Does it make you feel safer? Do you think you can beat it by waving more broccoli over it? Please! Live! Really live! Taste the "death by chocolate" triple layer cake. Make yourself happy. Be with friends who make you laugh.

Will another carton of soy cream keep the cancer away? The cancer you're hoping to prevent is already in your body... if you're lucky you will find fantastic doctors and drug companies that care about your very rare "orphan disease" and try to find a cure for it anyway even though only a couple of thousand people die of it each year.

Fight cancer? There is no fighting. There is learning, grappling with stupid bureaucrats in your insurance company who want to keep you from getting the doctors and drugs you need, there is forgetting denial, there is facing the music, there is trying to live with this, instead of dying from it.

Good luck to you. I'm so glad you are an inspiration to so many. Doing good is a great medicine.

Susan

Sent by Susan Ferguson | 11:26 PM ET | 04-09-2007

Prayers for Jeanne. Peace be with you, Jeanne.

Sent by Connie | 12:38 AM ET | 04-10-2007

Leroy, no need to grow up -- just need to figure out what to do next!

Sent by margaret siegel | 8:46 AM ET | 04-10-2007

Leroy:

I have found your commentaries on cancer to be both thoughful and funny. My brother in law had glioblastoma brain tumor a couple of years ago, and watching him go from near death to clean MRI has been an emotionally confusing experience.

But I write today as the editor of a book about cancer called It's Not About the Hair by Debra Jarvis, an oncology chaplain at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (the treatment wing of the Fred Hutchinson Research Institute). After a decade of minstering to cancer patients, she received her own diagnosis of breast cancer, so she writes about cancer from both sides of the chart. I think you would find her a kindred spirit: wise, provocative, funny. I wonder if I would send you a bound galley to read and possibly blurb.

Carry on.

--Gary Luke

Sent by Gary Luke | 4:49 PM ET | 04-10-2007

Leroy,

Live! Do what you would want to do if you knew the cancer couldn't come back. Yet, don't lose sight of what you've learned. In my wife's and my case it was learning that relationships and love meant more in the long run than money or possessions. While we continued to gather those, they were never a goal again.

My wife lived her life to the fullest until the shock at the end of January when they suddenly said they couldn't do any more. She died on April 4th and we are sad but not full of regrets because we lived.

So live, Leroy, no matter what you do.

Sent by chuck | 2:01 AM ET | 04-11-2007

i just found out have cancer ...again.
i had urachal cancer in 2002. it's a rare thing they told me at duke.
(the urachus is where your mom's umbiblical cord attaches to your bladder)

now i have colon cancer and it is in the rectum and lungs and some other tumors floating around my abdomen.
i started chemo last week in fort wayne, in.

i have not gone to work...to my hourly job...in a month now due to dr. appt.s and tests and scans etc.

but back in the middle of stuff, my son asked me if cancer was my new job. it struck me as funny...as in kids say funny things.

but then it struck me as being very true. it is my new job.
so the comments about only wanting a job and not a career in the other day's comments struck a chord with me today.

i'd say i'm looking forward to retirement, but that probably wouldn't be so hot either.

peace be with you,
mike

Sent by Mike in IN via NC | 4:28 PM ET | 04-11-2007

It's a brave thing you're doing, being open during this time to all these stories and concerns from others. Thanks.

Sent by Sarah | 3:52 PM ET | 04-16-2007