The Right Thing to Do

 
“We have a conversation going, an amazing dialogue, and I didn't want to do anything to slow that down.”
 
 

"Why" That's the most common question I got when I told people I was going to keep writing the blog on vacation. One person wrote in the other day sort of blaming NPR, and asking that they give me a break. But this was my decision, no one was forcing me. In fact, my editors, the others who work with me on all this, suggested the same thing. So why do it?

Well, for one, I'm still on East Coast time, so I wake up pretty early. I take my computer out to the balcony, stare at the ocean while the sun is coming up, and write. This is not hardship duty. It really calms me and helps me gather my thoughts.

And I thought that effectively shutting this site down for two weeks would be a bad idea. We have a conversation going, an amazing dialogue, and I didn't want to do anything to slow that down.

There's a larger reason too. Cancer is something we live with every day. As lucky as I am to be on vacation, I still think about it all the time. Sometimes it just jumps into my mind like an annoying pop-up ad. Other times, something will trigger it. At the pool the other day, I saw a woman with very short hair. She hadn't cut it that way for fashion, it was clear that she had been on chemo. I wondered what her story was, but I was glad that she was in Hawaii too.

There's a conversation that I think everyone has when they come to Hawaii, or some place comparable. We may not even say it out loud: if we sold the house, the cars, quit our jobs, why couldn't we just move here? It's fun to think about it, and every once in a while you run into someone who's done it. So it really is possible, it's not just a mai tai-fuelled fantasy. But sometimes when I'm planning the move, the question, "But for how long?" elbows its way in. You know what I mean. Not, "How long could I stand to live on an island/" That one's easy. No, it's, "How long do I really have?" I try not to think about that one too much, not let it rule my life, but it's out there.

So this really was my decision. No one coerced me. Since we live with this monster every day, one way or the other, I thought I needed to face it every day, too. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

 

Comments (Send a comment)

Dear Leroy:
I decided to look back at your earliest entries and was amazed to see NEW postings there for Feb. and May'06 from people who had seen the Discovery Channel show. I taped it because I knew it would be of value; I hope it is rerun for the many who did not see it the first time, or did not record it.
All too soon I have had reason to lend out the tape and share this wonderful website; a dear dear friend has just been diagnosed. I know that he and his wife will bless you for the insight, support, strength and honesty that this blog provides. I personally am grateful to have it, and the reader comments, to read each day.
I recommend everyone go to your June 29th, 2006 essay where you describe how people's reactions to your essays affected you. I just want to thank you again for what you have done for all of us. I feel safe here.

Sent by Harriet | 7:45 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Thank you for writing every day. I like that you talk about the peacefulness you feel on your balcony as you write. My lanai here is Florida has been my sanctuary. And as usual you are right - cancer is always there. I am one of those women with short hair (never had short hair and still feel different although everyone says I look great). I wrote in yesterday about anonymous but didn't seem to go through so I just want to reiterate that we are here for her and I'm sure she will find other with similar experience. God bless you Leroy for continuing to write - it just shows your love and compassion for all of us and it means so very much to have you voice our feelings.

Sent by Vicki | 7:55 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy -- I think it's wonderful that you have continued to write your blog while in Hawaii. I find any kind of journaling, public or private, to be healing. On a 3-month break from my "maintenance" chemo treatments, I recently returned from a glorious vacation to Aruba. Friends and family were so thrilled that my husband and I were "getting away." I had to constantly remind them that, as relaxing as it was to have a change of scenery and be surrounded by beauty, I could never "get away" from the cancer or from my body that the treatments have ravaged. Yes, we had a terrific time. I worked hard to be present in the moment and grateful for the beauty of the nature that surrounded me, but I couldn't help but question whether or not this was my last vacation trip. Throughout the 8 years I have been living with cancer, my motto has been to make beautiful memories for those who will survive me. This was one of the gifts I was able to give to my husband -- a beautiful memory. Let's hope there are many many more to come.
(We have met at the Talk of the Nation interview and again at the Discovery town hall meeting. My husband and I were sitting right behind the panel so he shared a great deal of camera time with Ted Koppel!)Enjoy the rest of your vacation.

Sent by Elena W. | 8:04 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy, I'm glad you're keeping it going. I stop by every day. Every day! In my community, we have a bulletin board, and in it a couple of us have an ongoing blog related to our cancer-ridden loved ones and getting by. At one point, for the space of 2 weeks or so, the bb was down due to technical matters. It was really, really hard on those of us who count on it to vent and share, and sometimes get assistance with rides and so on. Such blogs -- especially yours -- can be a real lifeline, and much better than going to a shrink or a group. For instance, this a.m. is day 2 after my husband's resumption of chemo and he can barely walk. Watching this, dealing with this (while getting ready for work, and to take the kid to the orthodontist) I need to go for a minute to a place where "everybody knows my name" just to not go CRAZY!!! Your blog serves as that.

Thank you very much for keeping it going.

Sent by Teri | 8:06 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy, thank you. While I am a newcomer to this site, I have already felt a kinship to each and every person who communicates here. It is a place of empowerment; a place of sanctuary. We can come here, bald headed, ports protruding from our chests, body parts missing and in incredible pain - physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually. It is the place that we can be and feel openly without shame or guilt. It is my place, first thing in the a.m., that I can sort out my thoughts and feelings and connect with incredible souls throughout the day as I read each comment. Our prayers for you, however, are that you will experience more moments without the "pop-up ads" and more moments of total rest and peace while you are enjoying that ocean breeze.....

Sent by Kay | 8:08 AM ET | 05-17-2007

I certainly understand your thinking. This forum, this community is not an easy thing to do without once you're used to it being there. About two years ago, the site where my breast cancer chat room is was having a tough time with "lurkers", students, researchers and trouble makers showing up in the room and harassing the chatters trying to cope with having breast cancer, and trying to support one another. There were other issues too, but the end result was that they decided to close the chat room permanently, and just leave the discussion boards up. The hue and cry was tremendous. Those of us who depended on the chat room for support, companionship with those who understood what we were coping with and the gallows humor that only a fellow cancer patient could appreciate were horrified at the idea of that all going away. We so innundated them with e-mails and calls, that the decision was abandoned in favor of changing the chat room to make it more secure. This conversation that we have, this community is precious and rare. As I understand it, attendance at face to face support groups has been declining in recent years. Many people work through treatment these days, some are too ill to want to travel to a location and sit in a room to talk, and others need support in the middle of the night, or on weekends when no live support group is available.
We are truly blessed that through our computers, we can reach out for help, and eventually to help others who are just starting the life of a cancer patient. I'm glad that keeping the conversation suits you Leroy, and glad for us that it does.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 8:12 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Dear Leroy, so very glad you decided to continue with the blog while on vacation but more happy that you decided to take this vacation. Hope you are enjoying the beautiful sunshine and Mai Tais, you most certainly deserve it. Monday May 21st is what my husband and I refer to as "D..Day" He goes for his post-chemo scan and we hold our breath......I remember you saying that waiting for the results is like "Chineese water torture". But I read your blog on a daily basis and then chat with my husband about everything I read. My husband watched your documentary "Living with cancer", in fact he has it on tape, but for some reason will not log onto your blog, so therefore I try to share everything I read with him. I know it has helped me and I want it to help him open up a little more, especially with me; and I think its working! But I want thank you from both of us. Because of all the stories of hope and strength I have read about and that I have shared with my husband, I feel that we both have less anxiety about Monday's test.We are going with a more positive attitude. But, like you said, if more bad news comes again we do have other weapons and tools. Happy vacation !

Sent by sasha | 8:14 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Hi Leroy! Sounds like you are having a good time. I have to admit, it has been a pleasant surprise to find a new post every day, from Hawaii. I was prepared to do without my daily fix, but I'm selfishly glad that I didn't have to. It was particularly good of you to continue to give us your time and thoughts, since there are so many new readers and contributors to your blog after the Discovery Channel documentary. It must do your heart good to hear what a difference you've made in cancer world, by giving so many people a place to voice their fears and thoughts about cancer.

Sent by Gretchen Hoag | 8:19 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Dear Leroy, I understand one reason why you continue to write on vacation. You're a writer, after all, that's what you do.

I think it's also very generous of you to send us postcards from your balcony in Hawaii. I can almost feel the warm, ocean breezes! Enjoy!

Sent by Marilyn | 8:21 AM ET | 05-17-2007

i love how you have that sense and sensivity about you , leroy as to know how theraputic this site is for yourself as well as for all of us (hawaii or not!)
i , too notice anyone with that "look" of either in treatment or recovering from treatment. it's kind of the same way when i was having babies how it seemed as of the world was pregnant! cancer- it has consumed my world. there isn't a day that goes by that it hasn't ever really left me for more than a long hour. my husband finds it very depressing. in fact he couldn't sleep after watching the documentary, he was so sadden. I ,on the other hand , did not find it sad at all. maybe because living with cancer really is my "world" at this time of my life. i sometimes reflect on when cancer wasn't a part of me, but those days are getting harder and harder to remember. i do think that because of all the knowledge i have gained in the past year, through this blog, through my own research, through surguries,treatments and more, that i am a better person than i was before cancer. kind of weird for me ; i liked the person i was before , but i like the new person , with VERY short hair even better.

Sent by marianne dalton | 8:42 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leory -

To me, a successful and happy Life is a the result of doing the "next right thing". You gave me a needed laugh when you said "it just jumps into my mind like an annoying pop-up ad". And it happens at the oddest times for me too.

If you can do it, we can do it. In the Fall we're going to Europe for a vacation ... London and Italy and spots in between. We're going to buy rail passes and just get on and off the train where we want and when we want for as long as we want (well, at least up to two weeks worth of 'long'). The oncology doc said to take the trip as soon as the treatments are over. (I never have directly asked for a prognosis!).

I am in my last set of 3 weeks of chemo now before the radiation begins. My wife (an oncology nurse) goes with me to the doctor as I need someone to remember and interpret what he says. When asked about how I was feeling, I told him that "I didn't feel all that sick" on the last set: My wife piped right up and said, "Give him More!". So, more it will be for this set. But that's okay, the CA19-9 marker is dropping dramatically and is now below the "minimum" number. Progress!

Of all the things while in the hospital I looked forward to, second behind having my wife there with me, were the sunrises each morning.

Just keep doing the next right thing and enjoy your vacation doing what you enjoy.

Sent by Bruce in Florida | 8:47 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy~

I am so glad that YOU made the decision to continue writing the blog on vacation. I agree with you; we face this everyday and I think it helps to write or read about it everyday.

On a different subject, someone very close to me told me just yesterday that he felt I was always in a "rotten" mood and he wanted the "old me" back. I was devastated. I am still working a full-time job that exhausts me, I am a new Mother to a beautiful 4-month old, and I am trying to deal with this cancer. The "old me" is gone, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that. I think all I need is time. I need time to deal with all the changes going on around me and inside of me. I need patience from everyone in my life; especially those closest to me. And I guess from those of you on the blog, I want to know how long that takes? How long will I be saddened over this? I don't want it to consume me ALL the time. I don't want it to beat me down anymore. Logically, I know that the answers to these questions are different for everyone. I just want someone to fully understand what I'm going through and I feel like you all on this blog do understand me.

I feel alone today...I feel sad today...and I guess I just want someone to acknowledge that it's okay for me to feel this way.

Sent by Tess from KY | 9:05 AM ET | 05-17-2007

I'm kind of glad that you're continuing to write your blog while you're on vacation.
I look forward to reading your thoughts and input on living daily with cancer.
I very much enjoyed watching your special and it's nice that you've been able to give the rest of us a voice.
I'm a recently diagnosed breast cancer patient, currently undergoing treatment.

Sent by Brenda Rogers | 9:18 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Hi Leroy -
You is what you is... you wouldn't be a writer if you didn't enjoy it - so enjoy writing on vaca - We enjoy reading.
41 years OLD today - and I got the best present ever... my wife got a new med that has eased her pain considerably. I got my wife back! At least for 12 hours a day. I didn't realize how much pressure we've been under until some of it was relieved. So while I'm not in Hawaii sipping Mai Tai's... I am in heaven.
Be well and enjoy you trip.
Cheers!
Tim

Sent by Tim | 9:21 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Surely, Leroy, these conversations are feeding your soul and spirit as much as they are feeding ours. And as grateful as we all are to you for giving us this on-going forum to say whatever we need to about our deepest feelings, you have got to feel at your very core a deep sense of companionship and, hopefully, a tremendous sense of personal satisfaction knowing that because of you we are all walking down this otherwise scary path together. I love you, Leroy!

Sent by Anita Solomon | 9:41 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Hi Leroy. I thank you so much every day for the insights of this disease. No matter the type of cancer, we are all faced with the same obsticles. I have learned I am not any different than a lot of others. I have found support from your feelings & the people that comment. I am a 2 1/2yr.person "Living" with pancreatic cancer. I have always said to everyone since I was diagnosed that I would LIVE with it & could die from something else. It does change your life, reltionships, emotions, etc but I just take each day as to what I can do & not worry about the can't do's
The journey has been very hard on my family adjusting. Especially being able
to communicate. Over the yrs. they have become more involved with my support groups, & has given them support & know-
ledge. Yes IT is with us at all times. We have to plan for the interuptions.
I have vomiting at times. Unexpected. I would stay home for fear of it. Now I carry a disposible bag in case. At church I sit closer to the restroom. At my support meetings or any seminars I attend I find the location of the closest restroom. But my point is in a long about way we just need to make the changes in our lives to keep living & not just give up because of the obsticles. Talking with others is part of the healing proccess for me. I am so blessed to have your blog. Again Thank
You.
Jean
Ada, Ok

Sent by Jean Trobaugh | 10:35 AM ET | 05-17-2007

I selfishly am glad you are still writing on your vacation. I am glad it is not a burden for you. I saw the show on the Discovery Channel and started reading your blogs just this week. What a God send. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year I coped by what I now recognize was fear and denial. Through the surgeries,including a mastectomy, and chemo I did not allow myself to feel. I just wanted to get through it. Unfortunately a month after finishing chemo my husband of 25 years said he wanted a divorce. This pushed any dealing with being a cancer survivor or cope with the year's medical events down inside again.
YOUR BLOG IS HELPING BECOME AWARE OF WHAT I HAD BOTTLED UP INSIDE. You make me feel like I belong somewhere I feel gentleness and love as I read your blogs and the comments you receive. Thank-you Thank you. Enjoy the sunrises and sunsets. A trip to Hawaii is a dream of mine.

Sent by Joyce | 10:52 AM ET | 05-17-2007

THIS IS TO ANONYMOUS
I HAVE ALSO HAD DIFFICULTY GETING MY HUSBAND TO DISCUSS END OF LIFE ISSUES SINCE MY DIAGNOSISI. HE IS AFRAIS THAT TALKING ABOUT IT MAKES IT MORE REQL AND HE CAN'T COPE. SOMETINMES I CAN HELP HIM BUT MST OFTENM I CAN ONLY DEAL WITH MY OWN FEELINGS. I SUGGEST YOU WRITE YOUR HUSBND A LETTER . PERHAPS THEN HE WILL KNOW THAT HE IS NOT SO HELPLESS AND THAT THERE ARE MANY THINGSHE CANDO TO HELP YOU . YOU HAVE A HUGE FAMILY AND SUPPORT SYSTEM AND ARE NOT ALONE,WE ARE HERE.

Sent by BECKI JEFFE | 11:04 AM ET | 05-17-2007

I like that you are continuing to write, I check your blog every morning and put a link to your blog on my site. I have been writing in my blog since 2005 right after my surgery. It has really been a release for me, and often the words come easier when I write, some people read it faithfully, others don???t want to read it because it is my reality, I don???t hide how I am feeling. My blog is not all about cancer but my new normal in this ever changing life. It won???t be long when I will be on the balcony looking out on the ocean, and writing, I???m not sure if I will have internet access but if I do I will be posting. If you hear from Anonymous send her my way, I have had similar experiences. Tricias_place@comcast.net or http://pgorman.spaces.live.com

Sent by Tricia | 11:11 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,

I am not much for posting, I am a passive passenger onb your blog, but felt the need to say one simple thing regarding todays post. Thank you!

I, and many others, appreciate your devotion and caring. Thank you for being willing to continue this dialog with us.

Like my cancer, you and your blog also inspire intusive thoughts at all hours. Of course yours are all entirely good thoughts though! I resented living with this every day at first, but find it important to have as a reminder for me now, a sort of "white line" to keep me on the road.

Enjoy those Mai Tai's!

Sent by Rhino | 11:14 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,

I think the best movie moment ever was when Al Pacino says, "Just when I think I'm out, they pull me back in." Cancer's wild game of cat 'n mouse evokes that feeling in me.

I think this dialogue speeds past important. There are days when I am at school or at the hospital wishing I had the time to read the conversation. I feel off in some way when I can't. Something about this validates me, instills a kinship. I am not the over-emotional, mushy, touchy-feely type person. Cancer hasn't changed that. But I do know when I cannot read your thought for the moment and the responses from all who are finding their voices, my day lacks. I, for one, am glad you see this as not a "have to" but as a "want to".

For myself, it really doesn't matter how much time I have, but what I do with it. A live well lived is the best revenge.

Sent by Teri Thomas | 11:29 AM ET | 05-17-2007

i have been a survivor/fighter for 6 years and have read tons of cancer "stuff". your posts and the discovery channel show have been right on and i am so glad to have the pleasure of reading them. Its a tough road and sharing is the only way. Bless you for articulating the steps on our sometimes lonely journey.

Sent by cheryll | 11:30 AM ET | 05-17-2007

I enjoyed the program, "Living with Cancer". I am 37 years old and I was diagnosed with Stage III Inflammatory Breast Cancer in December 2004 and since then it has spread to my bone localized in my spine and I am in extreme pain all the time. I tell people I'd rather be in pain and be alive so I am not complaining.
There were a few aspects of the program that I questioned, one, why there didn't seem to be more african-american representation during the forum. Is it that my people, me being african american, do not represent themselves enough in this struggle with cancer?

The second question was why didn't Elizabeth Edwards, like yourself and Lance Armstrong give her story of her fight with cancer. I felt that to represent cancer on national television for so many of us who do not have a voice, you should tell your story. In telling "your story" it can help others who may have the same type of cancer, etc. I feel that if you feel "your story" is just that and private, you shouldn't stay in the public eye if you do not want to share it.

I thank you, Mr. Sievers, for representing the "cancer community". I tell the ladies all the time that it is something special in getting treatment together, ( I tell the ladies we are getting our "cocktails"). We share something together that the rest of the world doesn't understand.

I appreciate you sharing "your story".

Sent by Danette Winfrey | 11:33 AM ET | 05-17-2007

GOT MUCH OF A TAN LEROY????

I am off to see my internal doctor to go over some blood tests. I have been doing this for 33 years of remission, so I wondered if anyone ever brought up Medical History Data on the blog before?? I am like one of those people you see in the check out line, writing the check and signing it before the clerk is done. Everywhere I go I have a spreadsheet with the medications I am taking, a history of all my medical events back to 1974, and a new spreadsheet with bloodwork results for the last 2 years.( it saves the doctor from flipping thru a rather large file folder). Most doctors and dentist ask for a medical history to be filled when they see you. Make it easy on yourself, hand them a copy,or let them copy it. I am looking at putting this on a "flash drive" or "memory stick". Plus as you get older you tend to lose memory. It helped my wife last year when I had a total heart block. She was able to hand the emergency room doctor my whole history. Also as I am now applying for agent orange exposure with the VA, and Social Security disability, they require this information . If you can get transcripts for your files do it. They are hard to get later as doctors move and retire. So when you are waiting in the doctors office you can bring a Steve Berry, or Dale Brown book and read and relax.

Sent by Sam Means | 11:38 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy, I said the exact same things to my son the other day.I can't go anywhere in our small town without someone saying "so what's this I heard about you?" The other day I just said directly "yes, I have cancer." It's hard to say the first few times, but it gets easier each time the words come out. Then all the questions start "how did you know?" "are you doing chemo?" "do you get sick?" etc. I get tired of the of this conversation and at the same time I would feel bad if no one asked and it makes me feel like they care, all at the same time. I'm sick of talking about it and yet its always on my mind. I try to forget about it even for a few minutes but its always there. It hits you in the face all day long, every time you go for blood work, more hair falls out, you get tired before you think you should, when your wig comes in the mail, when cards come, when flowers come, when the bills come, when its chemo day. We are truly Living with Cancer, every day, and every night. The key word is "living" we are all still living, no matter how distorted it is.
I can hear the waves, Enjoy every minute

Sent by Joyce L | 11:39 AM ET | 05-17-2007

LeRoy
I agree totally with this idea of not taking a break for the reasons you stated. I have lived with my tongue cancer for approximatly 10 months. It has never given me a break even when I had one third of my tongue removed. The surgeon said all was clear. Three months later it appeared again. I have found myself coming to this site every day to read yours and others comments. It is quite theraputic.
Thank you
Clark

Sent by Clark Hubbard | 11:53 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy-
I am just so impressed by your ability to kind of - say it like it is. You do not sugar coat the fear or worry you have and you do not push it aside. You look at the situation straight on and face the disease. For whatever reason you have this illness and you seem to be realistic about it. You do not drown yourself in sorrow (I am sure sometimes you do), but you also do not have the thought process that you will be cured and back at 100% I know there is no perfect way to deal with this disease, but I find your attitude about living with cancer so admirable. You are an inspiration to many of us and I look forward to reading what you have to say each day.

Thank you again for all that you have done!

Sent by April | 11:53 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Hi Leroy and All

I haven???t had a chance to write for a few days, so I thought I???d catch up.

My heart also goes out to anonymous (whose wouldn???t?) I???ve been able to share what I???ve been going through with my family, community, church and colleagues from the gitgo. They (and you) have been a tremendous support, affirmation and source of learning for which I am eternally thankful. You are certainly a part of my family as are they ??? both at home and around the world.

I think it is a little dangerous to restrict our family to ???Cancer World,??? and know that most of us don???t, even though it is an important and unique source of support and affirmation. As you know, I also believe very strongly that we shouldn???t restrict the thoughts, insights and learnings of Cancer World to Cancer World. Our other worlds should benefit from them as well.

This blog helps, as do others. But they are not enough, as Leroy reflect when writing about the chemo brain article in the NYT.

When others are truly present to us, they help us to bear our burdens no matter how heavy. This has been true from me, and, reading what you all have to say, mine has been relatively light. I can still do what I need to do in the most of my worlds with relatively little struggle, almost no pain and a great deal of help and support. It should be this way for all of us and I hope and pray that it becomes more so. I feel a certain responsibility both to help make it so and to do what I can to ease other similar burdens.

But many of us have all that we can do to deal with what faces us personally on a daily or even minute-by-minute basis. That???s totally fine. And we certainly don???t have to do it perfectly or often even very well.

Keep on keeping on ??? and take a break once in a while.

My thoughts and prayers are with you

John Shippee
Atlanta, Georgia

Sent by John Shippee | 11:58 AM ET | 05-17-2007

Harriet - We were on the same wave length because I went back to the archives and also noticed the current postings in 2006, came here to let others know about it and find your post!

My Mom taped the show for me but only set the timer for 2 hours and the show was 3 - so I too would like a copy of the show so I could see the last hour and so I could share with others.

Leroy, I was hoping you might share a bit of your actual vacation while there. I can't stop thinking about it and told my husband this morning that I'm seriously considering going myself - I've never been. And I don't even know what a mai-tai is, but if I make it to Hawaii, I'll be sure and find out!

Many thanks, again, to all of you who empathized with me and my anonymous posting the other day. Your words have brought me great encouragment and comfort.

I noticed there are several of us by the name of Vicky on this blog, although different spellings. But I'm going to start adding (NY) to mine-that's the state I'm from.

Sent by Vicky (NY) | 12:09 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I concur. I'm watching the show now for my third time and each time I do, I relate to it more because of something that has happened to me recently. I've suggested that my family and friends read the blog as well (I maintain my own also). I consider you a mentor for so many reasons, Leroy. The feeling of security here is so strong, you can almost reach out and touch it. It's a true gift, and I thank you for it.

Sent by Heidi | 12:27 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I actually woke up early enough to see the sun rise this morning to. Over y neighbors broken down car....lol not quite your view but at least the sun part was good. Your dedication is appreciated...Have a great day!

Sent by Christine VanHoose | 12:28 PM ET | 05-17-2007

"but for how long"...that is the question that just eats me. It's not that my life is shorter, it's that no one can tell me "when". 1 year? 20 years? I know what the statistics say but that really doesn't tell me when *I* will go.

Isn't it amazing how this gets in the way of everything. Do I spend it all now and have a great year while I'm healthy or do I conserve because I'm going to be one of the few who make it long term?

Everytime I get a request to put something in the 2008 budget, or start making plans for a year or two, I wonder where I'll be, where the cancer will be, what new treatments may or may not become available.

No, unfortunately, there is no vacation from cancer. However, if it's going to come along with us, the least we can do is show it a good time ;-)

Sent by Karen D. | 12:34 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I know that you must read a lot of stories from those of us who are "Members". I saw the TV Production and am deeply moved that you chose to doccument your "travel". It is so very uplifting to follow for those of us who are not capable of organizing our thoughts as you are. You have touched on many things that have went through my mind during my "travel" that I have been unable to speak of, and probably could not explain to even those close to me. I am so far a surviver for 3 years of colon cancer. Following Chemo,Radiation,surgery (compounded by a bad case of peratonitus) then more chemo,Loss of 68 pounds, I think I can relate to all the things you describe. I was never able to explain the guilt thing to anybody! I have often thought of the tragedy of the loss of all ones "Storage" at the end of their travel. I cannot stand the idea of all the knowledge and skill that it took from so many people to prolong my life that will be lost forever when they die. My mother died in 1979 with the exact same thing I have. It would have a miracle if she could have had the same treatments that were available to me. She was only 63. I still have a port so I must visit the clinic once a month for a flush. It is a grim reminder of the depths of hell that some must endure. I would love to stop and visit with each one there and listen to their story. I cry at the drop of a hat,so I doubt if I would be much support. I have been to three annual Relay For Life events and I cannot express the appreciation that I feel for all those who work so hard to raise funds for Cancer Research. This has to stop somewhere. It is so ironic that we have the capability to have extended the life expectency so much in our lifetime,yet we still have cancer chewing away almost out of control. Probably half the money our government wastes each year would go a long way towards the search for health answers. But that would be another whole topic for us to handle. Anyway, I am grateful for each day of life that I get to stay and enjoy with my family and to find out that there are those like you who relate to my "travels" and are willing and able to share it with others in the same "boat". Lastly, I must say that it is sad that it takes an event in our lives such as this to really make us understand the power of God. I now know the power of prayer and the willingness of even those we do not know to pray for us can certainly make a difference. I will pray for you. Please pray for me. Thank you Leroy. KEEP ROWING ! ! ! !

Sent by Ted Kindler | 12:37 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,
Thanks for continuing the blog while in Hawaii xoxoxoxo
Bruce--just re read your post of 5-15 (I think) and it brought to mind the first year after my husband died. I was 47, he just 4 days shy of 51. We still had 2 kids at home, 12 and 15 yrs old.I remember the seemingly purposeless drifting...the shock, too. Even though we knew for several years how his life would end, it doesn't make the end any less significant. My husband was diag. in his 40's w. alpha 1 antitrypsin deficiency (genetic) which causes either the lungs or liver to fail. He had a lung transplant in March, did well for 3 wks, then could not fight a massive rejection/infection and died a week later. My daughters and I went through the closet and found a shirt that had been worn but not washed and we could smell him in the shirt. We had to keep that shirt!! I felt like I was wandering for a loooooong time, so to try and make some sense of it, I recorded thoughts, dreams, questions, memories almost every day for a year. I have passed that journal on to others who have lost a partner. I just wanted to say I understand where you are and i know those feelings. Love and warmth to you and everyone else on this blog needing it!! Sherri in Texas

Sent by Sherri Eggleston | 1:00 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,

I understand all about the siren song of Hawaii. It calls us, too, but we are too old to start over and would miss friends/family too much.

I am glad you feel a responsibility to keep writing even on vacation. It is very clear that there are many who depend on you for support. You are doing something wonderful with this blog.

I appreciate it - and you - so much.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 1:38 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Last summer, I was on vacation after completing treatment the previous fall. I was by the pool with my son when a woman I didn't know looked over at me and gave a big grin. She was checking out my port scar and I spotted hers. We didn't speak, there wasn't any need. We just smiled and went on with our day with a quick reminder of the world we had recently left behind.

Sent by Chris | 3:12 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Greetings
This is becoming a wonderful habit-I won't always take the time to blog. But yours is wonderful and healing site and I can see why it's not work to you. Ah yes the short hair by the pool-that was me last June and here I am again-more bald planning another trip. From my other comments before- I usually am completely positive and believe in coming from a place of graditude but I'm having a low moment and wondered about airing it here.?.. I was a little disappointed that Livestrong Day didn't even make a little national news comment yesterday (I almost forgot myself) I mean what was I thinking...of course Paris Hilton's temporary jail time is more earth shattering than the cancer epidemic. ?? Seriously, I remember how unaware I was before being diagnosed and I know there are so many causes out there and I don't want to be judgemental--it just seems like we've got along way to go-baby. I wonder sometimes if WE don't speak up about the severity of this disease people just really won't "get it" until they get it. In national times like these I'm so grateful for the docs, nurses, researchers, family, friends and patients. We have to cheer each other on-lord knows the news isn't. I'm not usually a cheer leader but -Go Leroy!--yes keep the dialogue going. Thank you,
Linda

Sent by Linda Mowbray | 3:51 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy: I think I urged you to take a break..since sometimes it's nice to 'get away' from it all...however, i'm guilty in saying, that i'm glad you're still blogging..even if you're on vacation.

As for those who have sold it all away, just last week there was a story on BBC news about a gentleman in England who was thought to have pancreatic cancer, so spent his life savings buying, vacationing, etc.. only to find out he had pancreatitis (inflammation of the pancreas rather than cancer). Hence, our golden rule...'no tissue, there's an issue'...Here is a link to the story:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/cornwall/6615351.stm

Enjoy the sunshine for us all, and the beaches and sand. Rest well and thanks again for being available, even when you're technically not 'supposed' to be.

As a sidenote, I saw a patient last night who saw the 'Living with Cancer' special in hopes of getting RFA (radiofrequency ablation). I think more insight, and education needs to be done on this issue. It's a procedure done by radiologists (interventional radiologists), not radiation oncologists. There is a huge difference. I've gotten several emails about the procedure from the special as well... just wanted to inform those who may be interested in learning more about it.

Take care, and safe travels.
Krupali

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 3:54 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I received an e-mail from a good friend this week that her husband had died on Tuesday. He was diagnosed with lung cancer 2 months after my husband was diagnosed with lung cancer. I called her to say how sorry I was & she said he just gave up. I believe the mind does have a lot to do with who survives. I have know women with breast cancer who said I have to live long enough to get my youngest in school & after the child enters first grade, the woman dies. I knew another friend who simply said enough & was gone in 2 months. I think keeping your spirits up is critical to surviving this terrible disease. Your blog is helping to keep those spirits up. I see it & hear it everyday I read the comments. Our challenge is not to let my friend's husband's death get us down. My husband has his 3 month survellance PET scan next week & we must stay positive. Thank you for this blog and thanks to all who write to it. It does help!!

Sent by Kathy | 4:42 PM ET | 05-17-2007

You are such a gem, Leroy. Thank you for writing!

Sent by Sarah | 5:23 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy, your posts help me keep a grip on things. I don't sink as deep with my fears, usually the couple of days just before I go back for my next chemo after I've had a week off. I see other people as sick as I am having to go out daily and earn their insurance and work full time - I don't resent it as much as I did because of your blog. I'm grateful you are posting from Hawaii. My husband was asking his brother how you meet people on a cruise, I silently figured the cancer people would gravitate to me, me to them- my husband will most likely find someone we're distantly related to or who knew his mom. I don't want to wish time away even though I am eager for the end of school and this trip, but I know I'll still be around to take the trip. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.

Sent by Cheryl McDowell | 5:52 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I entered my nightmare 7 weeks ago when I palpitated a large mass in my abdomen one night reading in bed. Less than a week later, surgery to remove mass and discovery that it had spread to my liver. Four weeks later, chemo (2x so far). I am recovering from the surgery and actually feel well despite the chemo. BUT, I am only able to say these words now "out loud" because it scared me so badly when I heard the doctor say them at the time of diagnosis: Adno Carcinoma primary unknown: STAGE 4. The Adno part is fine, it's the "Stage 4" that I cannot form my mouth around. Is it strange that I cannot repeat those words to anyone, even my family? They know I have cancer obviously, I just don't want to address the Stage 4 elephant in the room for fear that it will kill me instantly. The most current CAT scan shows no other tumors at the moment. Of course I think, "Boy, I wish there was a Stage V"...I realize it is one way to rate my medical situation, but it sends cold water through my veins still. Unlike you, Leroy, I do not want to know my prognosis (yet), although I respect those who do want to know. So there, other than my husband, I have just said the words that for some reason have scared me the most: Stage IV. I have had my second chemo, haven't had a terrible time so far. I am determined to stay positive and know that that is key. I am proud to join everyone here. Thank you and good for us for staying in the loop.

Have a maitai for me!!! I can't drink!

Becky

Sent by Becky | 5:53 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy
Thank you I found a family that actually understands what I am going through. I was diagnosed with BC and had surgery in Feb. 07 I had been unable to let myself feel anything. I read the first post the day you were leaving for Hawaii and for the first time since this disease has entered my life I let myself cry. Thank you

Sent by Jolyn | 5:55 PM ET | 05-17-2007

thank god you haven't shut down for a fortnight! we'd all be worried to death about you! can you imagine how many of us would show up on your doorstep! hawaii couldn't handle it!

Sent by Martin Boyce | 5:59 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy- I see above that anonymous has a name now. Kudos to her. Just wanted to say thanks for writing while on vacation. But by all means, don't let us make you miss the scheduled mai tai :) Have an extra one for me!

Sent by DiAnn | 6:07 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Dear Leroy and The Group, How long? How long? Its the thought thats always lingering. I celabrated my sons 18th birthday this week. Next week he goes to the prom. In 2 weeks I'll watch him graduate from high school. Last year at this time I was going through chemo. I would cry myself to sleep thinking I would never see these great days happen. Lets all enjoy every day because we don't know How Long.

Sent by Ron | 6:37 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Tess from KY,
Take if from someone who spent a lot of time feeling alone and sad - you are normal. There is no way to prepare yourself mentally for the emotional ravages associated with this disease. It's a rollercoaster. You are human. Don't expect yourself to act anything less than human. I'd bet that almost everyone who posts here understands exactly how you feel. You are not alone though. We are here and we feel what you feel. Sometimes sharing can help the burden. I would just offer to you the fact that the people on this blog do not judge you for having these feelings. We are here to try to empathize and listen and offer help where possible. Better days ahead.

Sent by Dave U. | 7:22 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Sherri--thanks. It helps to know I'm not the only one who feels like they've been cut loose from the dock without a map or compass.

Linda--it's OK to have a bad day and talk about it here. If it weren't OK, I wouldn't have much to say ;-)

Krupali--I was wondering earlier today where you'd been lately and hoping it wasn't that anything bad had happened.

Sent by Bruce | 7:28 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I knew why you continued to write and would have been very surprised to not "see" you each day. hey- just 1 complaint- it used to just take a few min to read your blog but now I am committed to read almost all the comments and it takes a whole lot of time. You and your family touch my life in many ways every day. I would like to personally know all of you.

Sent by Linda H. | 7:51 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy, I am glad you are in Hawaii, what a wonderful place. I can see the sunrise of which you speak, it's beautiful, really beyond words, and that's when you are well. It must be so much more special at this moment for you. None of us really know how long the therapy will work, or to what level it will be effective. I hope to achieve what you have, no active tumors, how great it would be to hear those words from the doc. I thank you for your time, and wish you all the best, as you continue along. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 7:53 PM ET | 05-17-2007

This is for anonymous/Vicky (NY). I couldn't believe I finally found someone with similar experiences in dealing with breast cancer and husband problems. My faith in God has got me through. This blog has been the best thing for me because I have found others who feel the same things I do and I don't feel alone or an outcast anymore. I pray you find the love and help you desire. THANK GOD FOR LEROY. Vicki (FL) P.S. I used to live in NY.

Sent by Vicki | 8:13 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,

Thank you for continuing your blog while on vacation. I enjoy reading your thoughts. I am a 6 year Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma survivor. I retired from teaching in June 2004 and have been volunteering at Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia since September 2004. I taught high school math in an inner city high school and enjoyed the kids but never felt like I accomplished much. I enjoy the volunteer work and feel like I'm really helping people during a difficult time in their lives. Since I am a brother to every patient, I feel good when I can be of service. Directing them to the proper area and giving them driving directions, since many come from far away. Yesterday I noticed a patient that has been coming to Fox Chase for many months. When I first noticed her, a young woman probably in her thirties, she appeared healthy and vibrant. Yesterday she looked as if she had lost twenty pounds. She was thin a gaunt. I was very sad to see her like this. I am sure that her cancer had taken a turn for the worse. She was being admitted and I hope that her cancer takes a turn for the better, although I think that unlikely. I see many very sick people at Fox Chase but remembering how she looked when she first came to Fox Chase and seeing her now makes me very sad. I know my cancer could come back at any time. Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma is treatable but not curable. I am grateful for the time I have been well. I am a cyclist and will be cycling around Lake Tahoe the first weekend in June with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training. I will be thinking of this young woman while I am climbing the hills and hope that she is putting up a good fight.

Sent by Ira Lunsk | 8:41 PM ET | 05-17-2007

I've been reading your blog since I saw the Discovery special on cancer. I've been on a NHL (non-hodgkins lymphoma) forum for awhile and it's good for support and nuts-and-bolt info regarding chemo and symptoms and testing and such. I enjoy your blog site as it delves into more philosophical questions and the challenges of living with cancer. Several topics have hit a nerve, but I've not replied yet for no real reason. My husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer in August 2005 at the age of 52. It was a very aggressive type and although fortunately not in the lymph, it was a Gleason 9 and considered "locally advanced". He had a radical prostatectomy, 34 radiation treatments, and 8 mos of hormone ablation. Although statistically, he has a 50% chance of remission by 2 yrs, at 18 mos he has a PSA of 0.0. Then 4 mos later, at the age of 51, I was diagnosed with an indolent, incurable form of non-Hodgkins lymphoma. The oncolgist informed me that this was a good cancer to get since most people with it lived 8 to 10 years. I realize for those given a poor prognsis and 6 mos or 2 years that this sounds great. But at the age of 51, it didn't sound so good to me. To date, I've been on "watch and wait" as there is no cure. However, chemo and a stem cell transplant are in my future. Both of my sisters are a match. It's odd that both my husband and I are "living with cancer", hopefully his is cured. It is so true for myself, that you think of it everyday. And it is in the forefront with makiing plans. Should we plan a trip in the fall or will I be in the midst of chemo? Will I have hair for my dauhter's wedding next year? Is the my next round of blood tests and CT scan the one that will result in initiating chemo? Your blog yesterday made me realize how fortunate I am that discussing cancer in my house with my husband and with my adult daughters isn't taboo. At lunch today my husband and I discussed the topic of not being given more than you can bear. I've resented people saying that to me, for me it is a platitude with the message of buck up. I have wondered what good will come of my having cancer. It's clear that for you it is all of the lives that you have touched. Many thanks.

Sent by Suzanne | 9:45 PM ET | 05-17-2007

To Tess from KY:

O my goodness, did your post hit a nerve. I have stage III(c) endometrial cancer. I was diagnosed in October 2005, surgery, then chemo, then IMRT external beam radiation, then 3 brachytherapies. Last treatment: 9 May 2006. Now, quarterly scans/tests/checkups. So far, so good. Knock wood. I still cry almost every day.

Despite an exemplary employment history, from the moment I told my supervisor I had cancer, I have been treated like the most despicable problem employee. My supervisor asked my doctor for so much detailed information about my condition, including her estimate of my prognosis, which he did not get, that she told me I had the most intrusive employer she had ever encountered. I did work half-time from home during chemo and radiation, contrary to my doctor???s recommendation, completing almost as much work as my full-time healthy co-workers. Nevertheless, on my first day back at work full time, I was publicly bawled out for not having done more. ???You???re healthy now, so get your work done!??? One of my co-workers made repeated complaints about what a ???burden??? my cancer was for her and the office. My supervisor told all of my co-workers to transfer some of their workload to me when I returned to work, to make up for that ???burden.??? During my 6-mos sick leave for cancer treatment, I did not receive one card or note from my supervisors or co-workers (I can no longer think of them as "colleagues").

My first oncologist mis-diagnosed me. My second oncologist saved my life. My radiation oncologist gave me incomplete information about the specific nature of my external beam radiation treatments, so after completion my insurer declared the IMRT ???investigational??? for my diagnosis and refused to pay. I owe the hospital somewhere around $50K for my radiation treatments. I spend my spare time fixing up my house, in case I have to sell it to pay my medical bills.

So, dealing with continuing side effects from radiation, extreme fatigue, extra heavy workload, hostility from supervisors and co-workers, possible malpractice, trying to figure out whether I got appropriate radiation or experimental treatment without my knowledge or consent, how does that affect my prognosis, medical bills, every day was (still is) a struggle. So my co-workers complained to my supervisors that I was ???aloof??? while trying to bring workload current. At that time, I was just overwhelmed and overworked; now, I am aloof. Most days, I cry on the way to work, because it takes such effort to spend my days with people who were so hurtful to me while I was fighting for my life.

When I start to feel sorry for myself, I think about this: When I was scheduling my radiation therapy, I asked for early morning, so I could then work half day. They told me I was lucky, the 7:00 a.m. slot had just opened up. They only have a couple of early morning slots, because they reserve the early-morning hours for the kids. So every day when I finished my treatment, I saw the parade of infants and toddlers coming in for their radiation treatments, some carried in arms, some pulled in little red wagons. The same fear in their eyes as in mine, the same bald heads. But, what a horror for their parents. How readily it was brought home to me how much worse it could be. I will never look at a little red wagon the same way, again.

Anyway, I still cry almost every day, not because of the cancer, but because the cancer revealed to me how alone I really am. Still stung by the way people can kick a person when she is down. With a couple of notable exceptions, almost every friend or family I thought I could confide in or count on for help effectively ran screaming for the hills. Anyway, have passed one-year survivor anniversary. Celebration. Last week was one-year treatment free anniversary. My husband and I took the day off and celebrated, again. I now have three ???birthdays??? to celebrate every year. Since my life expectancy is now reduced, I am fine with squeezing three birthday celebrations into each year. On one-year treatment-free anniversary, sent thank you notes to those who did support me through this, including medical personnel. It was a short list, but the task made me feel good. I hope the notes make them feel good, too. My husband teases me that I am developing my own ???Cancer Survivors Twelve-Step Program.??? I have been thinking about next step. Thinking about telling my oncologist she can give my name and number to patients newly-diagnosed w/same cancer. Would welcome suggestions. If it leads to emotional recovery, I am all for it. Even better if it makes others feel good, too. I don???t know when the sadness will end. Will certainly never be ???normal??? again. But I think that???s okay. I think we cancer patients are better than ???normal.???

Sent by Tex | 10:10 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,
I sit alone at night usually reading you blog, my wife and kids tucked in. The variety of emotions that run through the list of responses is tremendous. It is hard to imagine what could have been. The loss that may still happen. I remember the days of feeling like Tess from KY- just passing through the moment. It gets better. I read a quote on a bench the other day either Buda or Dali Lama -
"There is no path to happiness, it is the journey itself that is happiness." Look around you Tess- the more you look the more you will see. Others must have patience. When you are ready you will see.

Sent by Ehren Heyer | 10:26 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Harriet,

Thank you for pointing us to Leroy's 6/29/06 post, it was very nice to read. I've only recently (as in, this week) gotten involved with this blog after watching the documentary. To be honest, I dvr'd its premier but couldn't get myself to watch it until this week. I've been waiting to hear results of countless tests (scans, bone & lung biopsies) to see if my cancer has come back and didn't think I could handle watching the documentary. I finally got the courage to watch it and was so grateful to hear hear Leroy's eloquent dialogue about his battle.

I just found out today that my cancer (stage IV ewing's sarcoma) has indeed reared its ugly head again. I'm off to Vanderbilt Univ. on Monday to enter a phase I clinical trial where I will be only the 9th person to use this drug (and 2nd ewing's patient). Needless to say, I'm scared (although anything beats chemo). I feel somewhat numb to all of this bad news but almost calm now that my cancer has come back. I no longer fear that it may come back, as the unknown is no longer. The questions are answered. There is now only one direction to go.

I feel that I've digressed from why I orignially wanted to respond to today's post. Leroy's description of going out on his balcony at sunrise reminded me of my trip to Costa Rica in December of 2005, just a couple of months before my diagnosis. I often think back to that trip, where I would wake up with the sun every morning at my friend's house, go surfing for an hour or so, and then come back and lie in the hammock and read The Great Gatsby. I remember feeling so calm there, so content, so unafraid. I miss that.

Sent by Bobby Silberman from CT | 10:51 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Dear Leroy,

I just watched the documentary on the Discovery Channel a couple of days ago. We recorded it and very glad that we did. My wife and I watched the program a few days later and after the program I went to your blog and have read some of the more recent entries.

I will become a daily reader and hope to go back to the archives and read more. I appreaciate what you are doing to help me and all those touched by cancer.

I was diagnosed 13 months ago with Multiple Myeloma. I just finished up a year of treatment - 2 rounds of chemo, 2 stem cell transplants, and then 2 more rounds of chemo. I will be on some maintenance drugs for the next 3 years, providing I don't relapse. Myeloma is treatable but not curable. At age 52, I know that the Myeleloma will probably be what I die from -- Just not sure if it will be 2 years or 20.

A couple of things that I really got from the program and from you is that without hope you could not keep going.

You said that you try to live as normal a life as possible. For me this is important and the best way to live with cancer. Right afer I was diagnosed I read where someone said that they were not dying of cancer but that they were living with cancer and this helps me to keep things as normal as I can. The cancer has given me a new appreciation for everything and my new normal is that every day is a blessing.

One difference that I have had from most is that I have not had any "fear". Even the day that my doctor told me that I had cancer I did not break-down and was not afraid. Sometimes I think that there must be something wrong with me - that maybe it is bottled up in there somewhere - but I don't think so. During this past year I have not had and time I can remember feeling afraid - no breaking out in a cold sweat - no feeling like my guts are turned inside out. I don't know why this happened to me but like you have said in some of your blogs, God will not give us more than we can handle. This does not mean that I believe that God will cure me, although I do believe that He can. The fear may come for me at some point when my cancer gets to the point where there is no more hope. My wife and daughter have a more difficult time with my cancer and I am sure that if it were one of them with cancer I would see things differently. I do feel sad thinking about leaving them someday. I know that if and when that day comes it will be difficult for them.

My cancer went into complete remission early on and I am hopeful that my remisison will last a long time.

Again, Thank you for sharing your story and I look forward to reading your blog for a long long time!!

Dale - living with cancer

Sent by Dale Collier | 11:01 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,

I too am a member of the club, Stage 4- Metastic, To The Liver, Colorectal Cancer.(I am 52 years old,) I was diagnosed in Feb of 2005. Since the cancer had spread to the liver , all the Doctors wanted to do the standard protocol, Chemo, Radaiation, and Surgery, (Colostomy). Since my survival rate was low I chose to seek the quality of life rather than the quanity. I have done the Chemo, Campostar, Avastin, Leucorvorin, and the 5-FU regement. Plus the Targeted radiation. I have been getting along pretty well. I was in a remissive state until Jan of this year and then the PET Scan showed some activity , so back on the Chemo.I will finish a 8 treatment regement in June , and the last PET Scan, showed a Significant reduction in the activity. (After 4 Treatments). I just wanted to tell you that I do relate to what you have said and want to pass along your Discovery piece to as many people as I can ,( Just can not find it, in a Media form,other than the Discovery Web Site) for you said it all. Yes, I have it , and it is not going away, it has shortened my life in years , but has also brought a change in how those years will be spent. The Changes are real , and we do live on the other side of the line, which a tremendous amount of people do not understand. Some people say we are in denial , but you know ,I think they are, We all know where we are , in life , and they do not. At 52 years I grew up in an era that if the "C" word came into play it was always a very bad thing. The 3 to 6 months was usually on target. It is not that way anymore, at least I do not think so.

Richard Enders
renders100@gmail.com
Olathe Kansas

Sent by Richard Enders | 11:51 PM ET | 05-17-2007

Leroy,

I am new to this blog. I am turning 25 in a week and half, and I have breast cancer. I was diagnosed 2 years ago and it's been a nearly constant battle since then. As far as I know, there's still a lot of hope for a full, bright future. A full, bright future in the pit with a pendulum constantly swinging much too close for comfort.

I just found out about your blog from the Discover Channel special. So many of my friends ask about my cancer, and no one knows how to deal with it. I don't think we ever really learn how to deal with these things but I think as you get older you get a bit more experienced. For most of my friends, I'm the first, and only young person they know who is sick. Really, truly sick. And the questions and reactions are mind-boggling.

We all sat down and watched the Discovery Channel special. I cried. They cried. And I came to begin to read your blog. I never thought I could relate to "adults" with cancer. All of my cancer support groups are filled with women who fill me with rage because they are married with children and god knows if I will ever get that.

But your story, your words, for some reason said all the things I haven't been able to say. I've always considered myself an articulate person, but cancer stole my words. You've helped me to find them again.

I'm blogging now, too. Maybe it will help my friends understand. I hope it is as healing for me as it seems to be for you.

Thank you.

Sent by Meg | 12:47 AM ET | 05-18-2007

Dear Mr Sievers,

Having been effected by cancer many times indirectly as in losing loved ones...your documentary was inspirational & moving.

When asked if you felt courageous, you replied "no" but I think you are.

Every morning you wake and set foot on the floor is a courageous act. You are a fighter and by that the will is a healer.

Thank you ( & Ted ) for sharing your story and God bless you many times over....

My aunt is battling cancer as I write this...this is her 3rd bought. But this time around her husband and best friendof nearly 40 years was diagnosed within a week of hers.

The toll is overwhelming on her but she is fighting as is my uncle David.
When asked how she kept so positive, she answered, "its in the knowing~when I go to bed at night, I pray & if blessed with another day...I always tell God good morning"

Whatever a persons belief, I found that comforting.

Enjoy your blog & wish you good health from now & always.

Sent by Alan Cofer | 1:46 AM ET | 05-18-2007

I think it's great that you write every day. 8 years ago I had a 50/50 chance of survival from cancer. I got the good side of that 50, the the bad side still lurks in the wings. I'm a writer and I still write about cancer, even if it is just writing for myself in a journal. When I write about cancer and getting that good 50%, I face down the monster for a moment and I own my disease and my story.

Your writing is even more powerful because you extend that to connect with the cancer community and help others. If your writing in this blog helps one person each day, what a great miracle that is.

Sent by Janet | 6:42 AM ET | 05-18-2007

I found out in Jan. of 2006 that my 21 year old son, who was a junior in college, has Ewing's Sarcoma. Needless to say this is every parents nightmare. I am an only child and my parents have passed away so I have no family support. I also have 2 daughters, ages 14 and 18. I am divorced from my children's father and the husband I have now is not supportive at all. My son had managed to continue his education while having monthly chemo treatments and radiation. His college is 2 1/2 hours away from home and he has to come back here for all his treatments. He then goes back to school as soon as his 5 day treatment is over and continues on with his classes. He graduated in May with 2 degrees, 1 in history and 1 in political science. He is truly remarkable and I am so proud of

Sent by Melody | 8:11 AM ET | 05-18-2007

For Tess from KY who wrote yesterday about feeling sad and lonely. This is absolutely normal and while it may not completely go away, it will get easier with time.
I have been dealing with cancer for 17 years, stage IV since 2003 and NED for the past 18 months. I was diagnosed when my first child was 5 months old. I know those feelings too well and how difficult it is to talk to our loved ones about how we feel.
This forum is great because we can share our thoughts with people who are in a similar situation and will understand.
Leroy, I am so grateful that you have decided to continue writing the blog while you were on vacation. Have a safe trip home.
Alicia

Sent by Alicia | 9:32 AM ET | 05-18-2007

Dave U--THANK YOU for your words of encouragement and understanding!

Today is a better day already. I'm at home with my sweet Sophia (she had to have her 4 month shots)so I'm off from work. I just wish sometimes that everyone in my life could be as understanding as everyone is on this blog. Some days, I just want to scream at the top of my lungs "WHY ME, WHY NOW?" But then, reality hits me and I think, there is no good time to get cancer...all I can do is my best to stay positive and have faith that God will guide me and guide those that take care of me.

Thank you for responding...this site is therapy for my body, mind, and spirit! I'm so thankful to have found it! Have a great weekend!

Sent by Tess from KY | 11:42 AM ET | 05-18-2007

Leroy, I am so grateful for your generosity with this experience. I've posted before. My best friend has stage 4 lung cancer (mets in the spine) and has been in contact with Johns Hopkins since the Discovery Channel show. It sounds like, from talking to the screening nurse, that she may be a candidate for the procedure which could give her time to enjoy her new house, or even Hawaii. When we watched the show, she was in a very dark place and said "I'm no Lance Armstrong". I said, "maybe not, but you might be the other guy." Your words have given me a lot of hope in the face of losing my friend. My own experience has been so numb, except for short periods of intense grief for the loss of her health. My previous post indicated that she seemed to have run out of energy/hope, but recently she has declared a desire to live and has marvelled at how much love there is in her life (which is also peppered with unbelievable loss long predating the cancer). Getting your blogs (which I forward to her but which I'm sure she's not reading) have helped me to understand where my friend is standing. You're right. This is a monster, but your serenity is balm. Thank you.

Sent by Ellen | 3:01 PM ET | 05-18-2007

Vicki in FL - I too derive great comfort and strength from my faith in God. There's that peace that truly does pass understanding. I could share much about that aspect of this journey. He has shown himself faithful - always - and I derive great acceptance knowing that my life/my times are in His ever capable hands. Other people will always disappoint us, always let us down but He never does.

And I believe that the documentary and this blog came at the right time in my life (and all of yours)to meet our specific needs at this time.

Prayers and blessings to all of you.

Sent by Vicky (NY) | 4:38 PM ET | 05-18-2007

Tess,

I am so glad you are having a better day. Due to a technical reason, my comment was not able to be sent. I responded because you said that you feel so lonely. You are in my prayers.

Sent by Betty in Germany | 5:50 AM ET | 05-19-2007

Dear Leroy --

Kindly...my brother lived in Hawaii for four years and recently moved to the mainland to return to work. It is a lovely place and living there has its time.

My brother and I...we watched our uncle die of cancer. My brother is one of those who is supportive during the recovery...I am someone who assists those as spirit is intermittently in the body (sorry about the spelling there)...

We should live our lives in beauty...beauty of friends and family; beauty of work; beauty of place. I am pleased that you went to Hawaii as you were well, because that is not a work place for you...you are an urban dweller as am I...

I find your daily postings beautiful and real. I wish you great peace and a sense of connectedness as you move forward with living this life.

Namaste,

Elaine

Sent by Elaine Barnes | 8:11 PM ET | 05-19-2007

HI Leroy,

I can appreciate how you feel being in Hawaii,the whales, and the relaxation. In 2006, after several months of caring for sister, getting through radiation and chem, appointments, living with a calendar in hand, I to had the chance to be in Maui and see the whales. What a gift that was, and at times, even days before the final treatment it might not have happened.

It took almost the entire trip to slow down and appreciate the island. I am going back next year, at least that is the plan. To Maui, to see the whales and this time (hopefully) to enjoy more of he islands, by slowing down while getting there. My sister is approaching 16 months of remission, and if she makes it 2 years, they then we can sigh. The surgeon told us, 2 years is the magic number with laryngeal.

You daily blog is great! Cancer affects the patient at the time, the family as they cope with changes in roles, lives, and what is become the norm. It is multifaceted and multidimensional. Thanks...

Sent by Susan Chap | 8:30 PM ET | 05-19-2007

I am overwhelmed, almost to tears, to the responses I got to my post. I didn't get a chance to check the site Saturday...my husband and I took the day and spent it on our boat, "Lazy Daze" on beautiful Lake Cumberland. What a wonderful "mini-vacation". It was just the getaway I needed! Thank you to all of you who responded so personally to me...it means SO much!

Tex, your story hit me hard...I am so happy that you made your one year anniversary!!! CONGRATS!!! I can relate so well to your story. I have just started this journey...well it will be a year in September that my actual diagnosis of Hurthle Cell Thyroid cancer came. If you read my earlier posts, I was also around 20 week pregnant with Sophia (who is now 4 months old)! She is just sitting beside me now in her jumper, amazed at the computer screen! I think to myself that I put my work before everything else...and I wonder why?? I know why, because of the health insurance...now I HAVE to have it! I am sorry that you were treated so horribly at work...however, I am a firm believer in karma. That's all I'll say about that. Thus far, I have been lucky...other than a few comments about being off for a month in July/August, my boss has been SO supportive, along with a large majority of coworkers. Most of them just don't want to talk about it and that's okay. It is nice, though, to have a few true friends at work that are truly concerned about me. BUT, it still comes down to being able to really relate to the feelings and emotions that I'm going through. And so far, the only people that truly know what I'm going through ARE all of YOU!

I've said it before, but I'll say it again...I am so grateful to you, Leroy, for sharing your journey with us all. I am so grateful to all of you in "Cancer world" that choose to read and write about your experiences. It is so helpful to know that I'm not alone with these feelings!

Tex, thank you so much for sharing your story with me! I would love to stay in touch. Please feel free to email me at: tdockery@duotel.com
I will be a supportive "coworker" as you see I check this site numerous times during my workday for support.

Sophia is getting fussy, so I must end this. Thanks to all that responded to me...I will keep you all in my prayers! Better days are here to stay! With love!!!

Sent by Tess from KY | 7:27 PM ET | 05-20-2007

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Leroy Sievers in the Ted Koppel Documentary

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About 'My Cancer'

My Cancer will be updated Monday through Friday with posts and commentaries from Leroy Sievers. A journalist for more than 25 years, Leroy has worked at CBS News and ABC News, where he was the executive producer at Nightline. You can follow his story through this blog, his weekly podcast and his monthly series on Morning Edition.

 
 

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