Sometimes we ask that one. My husband was actually quite good about getting colonoscopies because "colon" cancer ran in his family. What we didn't know, 10+ years ago, is that they had something called HNPCC causing it all and that the vigilance should have been more frequent. So, when he had several annuals running with a few polyps but no cancer, the doc dropped him down to every 2 years. In that interval, some larger tumors happened resulting in a complete collectomy. And then, because the source of his cancer wasn't well-understood and no one recommended it, he didn't have adjuvenant chemo. So, he was in remission for a good 5 years. During that time, his sort of cancer became better understood AND I was pushy so the "indigestion" got diagnosed for what it was: duodenal cancer.

I can't fault us for not being alert, but it may be that had I known more, I would have insisted/paid for endoscopy and scans annually. I have come to think it very important to understand the usual diagnosis/testing protocol for one's specic cancer, and stay on top of it even if the doc is less concerned. I can tell you that his oncologist and gp say that if I hadn't been pushy about the endoscopy, the operable duodental cancer could easily have turned inoperable and fatal -- which is exactly why his brother died, and his mother.

Sent by Teri | 6:33 AM ET | 05-04-2007

what if's are a hard one for me. I used to think that way quite a lot and it only got me into trouble. What if i had been more pro active in checking out my lump? what if i had made my boyfriend stay in the states and not go to England, maybe he'd still be alive? What if's can be scary and depressing but i can see that they can also make you look at the positive side of your decisions as well. thank you leroy

Sent by Jenn | 6:57 AM ET | 05-04-2007

My cancer, a stage 4 bile duct cancer with regional metastasis to the liver, is not something that I could have discovered earlier except by chance. The cancer didn't present itself until too late. By the time I felt bad, the damage was done. There are no routine tests, like a colonoscopy, that are designed to detect this type of cancer at an early stage. And so my initial reactions were more some combination of disbelief, denial and anger. Why me? What did I do to deserve this?

Over time, thankfully, I was able to change the landscape of my questions. What can I do now? How can I live with my cancer without allowing it to dominate every moment of my consciousness? This type of question, I suspect, is faced by most people who come kicking and screaming into the Cancer World. This is our new reality.

I think that many of us reach a similar conclusion when faced with the possibility, perhaps even the probability, that we will die soon. The conclusion is that we must live each day well. No more "putting off until tomorrow" because tomorrow may not be available. No more sweating the small things, which often take the form of feeling psychologically injured, because this is even more poisonous than the chemotherapy that ravages our bodies. There are at least two important words for this change in attitude, in how we can respond to whatever others may throw at us. These words are compassion and love. When present, they tend to dispell anger and frustration. There is less tendencey to say or think -- How could you do that? -- to your spouse or friend. There is less tendency to become outraged at the actions of others, such as the response that we have come to label "road rage."

I think that living in the Cancer World has helped teach me to be a more compassionate and loving person, and I feel a lot better for it. This is a good lesson for everyone. But I still find myself wishing that I didn't have to enter the Cancer World in order to learn this lesson.

Sent by Andy Halpern | 8:16 AM ET | 05-04-2007

You probably won't address a whole daily blog to Ruth White, so I thought I would give a response to her question.

She didn't understand the fun/cancer relationship in the Hunter S. Thompson quote in yesterdays blog. "The ride is no fun if there is no risk".

Ruth, the "ride" is your life. The "risk" is the cancer. Life would not be fun if it was dull all the time.

Think of a life as a roller coaster ride....if the course was just a flat circle there would not be any risk and it would not be as fun.

Sent by Cindy | 8:21 AM ET | 05-04-2007

What if you didn't have cancer? None of us would be so connected and none of us would have found a safe place to share our concerns, fears and yes, even joys. I wish no one EVER had to go through cancer with all it's twists and turns. We are all so thankful to you, Leroy for sharing this journey and making it not quite so scary. Keep Breathing!

Sent by Beth | 8:30 AM ET | 05-04-2007

As a parent of a teenage (now 23 years old) osteosarcoma survivor, my "what if" is his recent science journal citation -- I doubt that it would have happened except for my son's cancer treatment at Mass. General Hospital. It brought out the scientist in him, for sure, and a desire to find cures.

Sent by George | 9:03 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Hi Leroy and all,

Just heard you on the radio and read the blog. Right on target I thought -- especially regarding talking about cancer, death and with those of us with cancer. I value Leroy's opening all of this up and providing so many good thoughts. It's very important (though something none of us would wish on anyone else, to learn and share what our impending (who knows when?) our impending mortality has to teach us and others about life.

Vaya con Dios

John Shippee
Atlanta, Georgia

Sent by John Shippee | 9:10 AM ET | 05-04-2007

I just heard your story on NPR, and thought that I heard something missing during your interview. I came here and it seems to be missing here as well. What's missing is your spouse or partner in this conversation. Did I miss it? From reading the blog I assume you are single, and totally taking care of yourself. I spent 5 years supporting a spouse who had cancer, which eventually ended her life. Since then (2 years ago) I looked for the "other side" of this story, which is how to live with someone who is living with terminal cancer. I haven't found it yet. For me, it was sort of like living with a famous person in the house and that I was a servant in waiting. Other times, there was the most tender moments. Often times it felt sort of like living with someone who always got their way, regardless of the consequences for the primary caretaker or their future financial situation. Certainly I loved her and supported her to the end, but it was often not fun work, and in some ways, I believe that it's even harder than having the cancer, as cold as that might sound. The most difficult part was having to convince her that she was going to die, and needed to deal with hospice. That would be a very interesting story to read about, and one that would take more than just one person's perspective.

I dont' watch tv, nor have one, so I'll miss your broadcast. Please post it here when you are able.

Best of luck on your remission.

Sent by Al in Port Townsend | 9:18 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy,

The road I didn't or couldn't take is enticing. I've been on it a few times, but it's the road to nowhere. Better, I think, for me to navigate the road I'm on as best I can.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 9:48 AM ET | 05-04-2007

My Daddy died at the age of 67 with leukemia. He found out the same day I was engaged. His diagnoising physician broke the news to the family several days later that he had only 6 weeks to live. The diagnoising physician had the bedside manner of a cold fish. He broke the news like saying good morning, then walked away, not looking back. I experienced two emotions at the same time: the denial of oh no, not my Daddy but also the rage of a person who makes his living as an oncologist. His insensative nature makes me still mad today although I also have concluded he must be a very unhappy person in his personal life. I do not pity or feel sorrow for this physician, although I do feel sad for his patients past and present. I am a nurse.

A wedding was held 2.5 weeks later in the mountains of NC. It was beautiful and extra special because all the people that truely mattered were present, including my Daddy.

He did not die in 6 weeks. He and my mother relocated back to Florida and he recieved treatment at Mayo Clinic. There were no cold fishes here.I can not say enough nice things about his new attending physician. He even sent me updates via email. I was a Navy Nurse, stationed in Italy.

I remember my father saying in the first few days after his diagnois that you could only cry so much. He did not mind dying, but he needed just a little more time. He said 3 years would be nice. He ended up living almost 1.5 years after his diagnois of only 6 weeks to live. It became a joke between he and my new husband that this was the only way they were going to get me married off. My Daddy was so special. I miss his counsel, his humor and his patience...not to mention his dry wit and the way he complimented my mother. I miss him. The family misses him. He will live in my heart forever He will always be with me.

The last time I saw him was at Christmas. I knew in my heart when I said good bye that was it. I thanked him for being my father. I loved him so very much and still do. Memories keep those special to us alive forever.

Sent by Deedie Harrington | 9:52 AM ET | 05-04-2007

I listened to your interview on Morning Edition this morning and I wanted to respond to the question about "do you ever make jokes about your cancer". I was so glad that you do! My history of this is because my father had bladder cancer, his brother had cancer, a good friend of my grandmother had bone cancer, I had a good friend, co-worker who had terminal, uncurable breast cancer (she died at 35), another co-worker with lifelong leukemia, another co-worker with brain cancer and all in all over my lifetime I have 10 people close to me, either family, friends and/or co-workers who have had some form of cancer. Point I'm trying to clumsily get to is, that one day my friend with the breast cancer came into work and after a round of therapy and had lost all her hair (again) she came in to work with peach fuzz on her head, within in a week to me she resembled a newly clipped french poodle. So, I looked at her and told her it was really time she get a haircut, it was getting way too long. We started laughing and my leukemia friend joined in with the joke. Later that day another co-worker came to me and told me she thought I was insensitive and her words were "how could you say that to her?" It really bothered me, but later, my friend with leukemia came over and I told her what was said, and she made a comment that has kept me going with all my cancer friends "If if weren't for people like you, we'd never make it." People always forget to laugh, and seem to go into a "funeral parlor state" where they tip toe around anyone with cancer, they're afraid to talk to them (are they afraid to catch it?), they whisper. These people need to laugh and shout to let the people who are suffering through this that they ARE STILL ALIVE and have a lot to give.

Sent by Linda | 9:57 AM ET | 05-04-2007

what if i never had cancer? ... now that's a loaded thought...almost dangerous for me at this point in time!!! i could probably fill a book with several hundred pages of "what ifs"..so i decide not to think "what if"...i ,too ,do not look back. i have never been that kind of person, a "shoulda ,woulda ,coulda ,person...i am here right now, this moment, now is the time for me to say not "what if" but "what now"!

Sent by marianne dalton | 10:31 AM ET | 05-04-2007

If you never had cancer you would not have realized what a wonderful gift every day is. The cancer treatment is difficult and arduous on your body, mind and soul. I tend to be more optimistic and view my cancer as a gift - it opened my eyes up to all the little things in life and to be grateful for what I have right at this moment, and to fully enjoy everything there is to life. Often , we all get sidetracked by life's tasks. I wake up everyday and enjoy every little detail and experience.

Sent by Charlie Myers | 10:42 AM ET | 05-04-2007

I've struggled with a related question-- can cancer make you a better person? I resented the implication for a long time. From my blog...

When I was first diagnosed, we (my husband and I) adopted the mind frame that 'things' (the cancer and its treatment) are going to suck for awhile, but one day, we'll look back on this sad period of our very long lives and view it as a blip on the radar. There was no reason that once it was over, our life together couldn't go on as planned. I really hung tough to the idea that cancer was not going to change me, and if it did, somehow I would lose a battle of the overall war. And when someone told me that this experience might make me into a better person, I was offended. I was perfectly fine with myself before the evil visited. So I plugged my nose, and kept my eyes on the horizon.

Truth is, I knew this would change me in small, incremental ways. It did almost immediately- I have the surgical scars to prove it. Everyday I make different choices because of cancer. When I'm with my husband, I'm really present, because there were many days when I thought our time together was limited. And when a fifth cousin twice removed invites me to a baby shower, I decline without guilt. There are other things I'd rather do with my time, because my time has a lot more value than it used to.

So maybe these small daily choices will lead to big changes over a lifetime. But I still don't see any big meaning in the 'cancer experience'. I don't think it made me what I am today. But now, almost a year and a half out of treatment, I'm beginning to realize that changing because of cancer doesn't mean losing a battle against it.

I think I am living better because of cancer, although the price, as you mentioned, is way too high.

(I really appreciate Al's honesty...it really helps to see the experience from outside my own immediate experience...)

Sent by Jen | 10:51 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy,

I saw the post today asking if you had a spouse, since you rarely mention your family members. I have been curious about that part of your life also.

I am a caregiver for my wife, who has had several different cancers over the past 10 years. She is now "terminal" but going strong.

There would be lots of interest in that side of the story...what the caregiver goes through. Maybe you could address that in a daily blog.

As for myself, I have devoted the rest of my life (or my wife's life) to taking care of her. Nothing else seems as important now. It isn't a sacrifice, it's what I want to do.

At first I was willing to sacrifice my own health in order to take care of her. Now after some time, I understand that I also need to take care of myself so I am around as long as she is, and to be here for our grown sons and their kids afterwards.

Sent by Tom | 10:55 AM ET | 05-04-2007

I'd like to respond to Al in Port Townsend. I've just completed 7 months of treatment for breast cancer. From the day of surgery through the chemo and radiation, I often found myself feeling that the ordeal was actually harder on my husband/caretaker than it was on me. I was the sick one, the one at risk, but I just had to get through each day. He had to watch, to serve, to ponder life without his partner, and, too often, to feel completely helpless as a bystander. A caretaker's blog is a really good idea.

Sent by Sarah | 11:04 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy, upon listening to your interview today on Morning Edition, and hearing of your turnaround, something occurred to me. By the way, I'm a survivor, too, of breast cancer - two years at the end of June. I believe we are all connected by some force, and you can call that whatever you want to. I think that the collective energy surrounding you because of your decision to share might be responsible for the positive change in your health. I've seen articles about people's health improving due to prayers said for them by others. Whether you call it prayer or something else, I believe this may have been part of the story regarding the death of your active tumors. I wish you continued good health.

Sent by Elizabeth Felling | 11:05 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Your blog this morning touched upon two subjects that I have thought about a lot since I came to Cancer World. I too wondered what if - what if I had gotten mammograms earlier, when I was supposed to, would it have made a difference? And because I finally said this in a "public" place, your wonderful blog, Doris wrote in to tell me to stop beating myself up, because it was "a waste of precious time to blame yourself." So I would have to pass Doris' excellent advice on to you.

And while it's my nature to always find a silver lining, I would happily throw away, with both hands, every good thing that's happened as a result of my cancer to return to my BC (before cancer) life. I simply cannot look at myself as a better person because of cancer - different, certainly, but not "better." To me, the implication of being a better person now is that something was wrong with me before. And while I surely was not the greatest person ever BC, I did not need cancer to fix me. I don't mean to sound so cranky! It just happens to be a sore subject with me.

Sent by Gretchen Hoag | 11:06 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy, your morning NPR comments buoyed my heart, and this message reinforces that celebratory feeling for where you are now. What a great intersection, accepting, looking forward, and considering career instead of job, while saying "thank you" for the gifts accrued along the journey. Thanks for helping cancer be better integrated into everyday conversation and consciousness, and for the forum you have created for deeper discussions through your blog and radio/tv work too.

Sent by Sarah | 11:12 AM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy:

"My body may not be all that happy when I say that, but it's true. I am not happy that I have had to go through this, that my friends and family have had to suffer too. But I am grateful for what it has taught me."

You have taught a lot of people, not just yourself...although you are having to endure a painful disease, you--as you can read from all your comments and from your post yesterday--are not alone, and hopefully never will be. The community that your words have built will teach many folks, even after you, and everyone else, are gone--cancer or no cancer.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 11:15 AM ET | 05-04-2007

My father was diagnosed with cancer four days before he died. The origin of the cancer was not known, possibly the liver or the gastro intestinal tract. My father didn't have time to get over the shock, I think. I don't know how he would have taken to this blog but I believe it's a good thing. I feel that we need to talk about these things. None of us are going to live forever. When we realize this we learn to appreciate life and those around us all the more.

Sent by sandra soler | 11:38 AM ET | 05-04-2007

I think breast cancer patients have a particularly hard time with this question. How many women get that yearly mamogram and do breast exams every month? On telling people about my cancer, a question always seemed to hang in the air, "what did you do (or not do) to cause this?" My feeling is, it's all part of the ride. One bonus is getting to know these wonderful people who are my doctors and nurses. My life would have been poorer without these people in it. And you really get a chance to cut the wheat from the chaff where your friends are concerned. I'll never be able to thank my friend enough who shaved my head so I wouldn't have to experience the heartbreak of having it fall out in chunks. It's so easy to drift through life without really understanding what a gift it is. At the beginning of this saga, I found people who said they where thankful for their cancer to be ingenuous or just crazy. I have come to understand it though, life is a gift, better enjoy it!

Sent by Marcia | 12:10 PM ET | 05-04-2007

After 8 years living with cancer (both in remission and not)I agree with you that I feel that I am a different person than "BC" -- before cancer; a "richer" person so to speak in what I have learned through this experience. I also like to think that my family is richer for this experience as well and that my children especially will be able to handle life's challenges in the future because they had to live this "one day at a time" existence with me. However, I do sometimes daydream about what my life would have been like without cancer and, to be honest and without hesitation, I would pick my former life in a heartbeat over living with cancer in my 40's and 50's. I work hard every day to not feel jealous and resentful of friends and family that appear to have a charmed life without any knowledge of what it truly means to suffer, both emotionally and physically. I then force myself to remember how grateful I am to just be alive and living in my "new normal." I can't wait to see Sunday night's broadcast.

Sent by Elena Widder | 12:30 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy,

Thanks so much for your candor on this subject. My wife has just been through a double mastectomy and now faces a complete hysterectomy while her doctors try and beat the race with her estrogen driven cancer.
I appreciate ... no, I respect the humor, the plain talk and the supoport your words provide. I'm riding this roller coaster with my wife because this is the hand God dealt us, We'd rather live and feel alive the just be.

Sent by Jeff Cook | 12:51 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Andy, this one is for you. Thanks for voicing what I have been feeling. Like yourself, I was dragged into Cancer world with no "pre-detection tests" available. My liver cancer has no treatment available nor is there a cure. For me, it's just a matter of time. Like you, I have discovered and/or learned many new things such as a deeper sense of compassion, love, friendship, and forgiveness. What makes me angry is the reduced amount of time I will have to share these new lessons with friends and family.

One important lesson yet to learn: how to survive when the Dr. tells you "I am sorry, there is nothing more we can do except make you as comfortable as possible".

My prayers for you in your battle with cancer.

Sent by Randal Gray | 1:05 PM ET | 05-04-2007

To Tom: When my brother's wife was ill, he and my mother devoted 4 years of their lives to taking care of her. I never realized the anguish and torment that they went through. My brother was her soul caregiver until the end when the angels at Hospice stepped in. She was only 46, and they had a yound son. I told him one day, not too long ago, how much I admired him and he said it could never have been any other way. When the fight was over he took his yound son on a road trip to Yosemite and across 6 states. I envy your love and your devotion to you wife. And I know you will treasure every moment you have with her. I hope you come back to the blog and experience the source of strength and support you will gain from all the wonderful people.

Sent by Patti | 1:26 PM ET | 05-04-2007

I agree with Gretchen - "I am not a better person because I got cancer" I am just different and don't think I was a bad person before. I don't think about what if's because that is useless energy. SO far the only benefit from having cancer is increasing awareness which makes me a better nurse and inspired my daughter to become an advocate for people who use up all their finances to survive. She is working on changing things so that people can get financial help to get them through treatment and recovery.

Sent by Vicki | 1:31 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Ah yes. What if? I???m a Behavioral Specialist who was diagnosed with cancer 10/2005. Appendix CA @ 58 is pretty rare. The type of cancer is even rarer. It is now stage IV with those cells growing all over the place. Hey, I feel very good right now. Every once in a while my mind drifts back to ???I wonder what would be happening if I had gone to the E.R. when I began experiencing lower abdominal cramps???. Well, I didn???t & my appendix perforated. The surgeon came to my room four days later, saying ???If it wasn???t for bad luck, you???d have no luck at all. You have appendicle cancer.??? My girlfriend, who was sitting on my bed, began crying.
I have practiced what I have preached for 30 years as a behavioral therapist. Each morning, I am greeted on my computer monitor with the phrase ???Carpe Diem???. I go out and run each day and I haven???t curtailed my daily behavior at all. Sure, I feel scared & intimidated that I may die sometime soon, but each morning I wake up, I think, ???cool, I have another day to enjoy.??? Hey, what the hell, my life is composed with what is happening right now. Right now, I???m writing this missive. The building I???m in could collapse and kill me in a minute or two. So I???ll be happy now. My four kids think I???m crazy. ???Dad, how can you take this thing so laid back???? I have a choice. I can be all depressed or happy in the moment. I???d rather be happy today.

Sent by Braindude | 2:28 PM ET | 05-04-2007

As another caregiver, I can say it's rough. Terry was sick for over 5 years.

When he'd decided to stop treatment, he said "We need to talk about what you want to know and how much you want to hear, and whether you'll stay to the end or not."

I said "I've been here for 20 years and seen it all. I'm certainly not going to walk away now." And I didn't, even though there were indeed times that I wanted to start running and not look back. I know if I'd followed that impulse I'd be regretting it now.

One of my best friends said a couple of years ago "Im not sure I could handle it. What do you do about the stress?" and I told him that sometimes I'd get in the car and drive somewhere secluded, and scream until I couldn't any more.

Terry said "I didn't know that." I just said "It's not anything you'd ever need to know about." It kept me relatively sane.

Sent by Bruce | 3:17 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy, et al-
I'm so happy to hear of your remission, Leroy. I've been eight years now in remission from anal canal cancer. By about 4 years beyond treatment, I started realizing that regardless of any future cancer, I was going to need to deal with the results of the treatment for the rest of my life. It's not a subject one reads much about... Life After Cancer Treatment. I was talking this morning with another Cancer Land immigrant. She, too, struggles with the collateral damage of treatment, and the perception of others that she's "wallowing in self-pity" rather than dealing every day with not having enough energy to do the things she used to, or handling the depression that follows the recognition that this part won't necessarily get any better. That the swelling and pain of Lymphedema won't be cured, but will require vigilant care for the rest of life.
I know there is a new movement out there that is beginning to deal with the expanding roll-call of "survivors" living with the results of dramatic cancer treatments.
And yes, I AM grateful to be alive, but I often feel abandoned by the system now that I am "cancer free". I imagine it is very similar to the young people coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan. Mutilated by our experience, and left alone to deal with it.

Sent by mary | 3:23 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Vicki:
You say you're a better nurse now,and your daughter is becoming an advocate for cancer victims. That is wonderful.
You may not think you're a better person after having Cancer, but you're certainly a shining star to me!
Don

Sent by Don Winslow | 5:28 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy,
I heard you on NPR this morning and wanted to say thank you for sharing this intimate part of yourself with us. You are an inspiration.

Wishing you all the best,
Melanie

Sent by Melanie | 6:31 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Leroy - postscript to this morning's Morning Edition piece. My comments regarding the purchasing of perennial plants vs. annual plants with the intent of living long enough to see the perennials survive and thrive was made last Spring. I am happy to report that last year's perennials are doing fine and I have elected to repeat the process again this year and get more perennials and keep on plugging away.

Has cancer made me a "better" person? Well, aside from the fact that now I have a lot more perennials, I can say that this experience has afforded me the opportunity to make some better use of character traits that maybe all of us have, but just don't get to use all that often. We all have the capacity for patience, compassion and caring for others, but may not use them well or often enough. I can't make the judgement call if I'm a better person or not, but I'm certainly a different person now. I just wish that I didn't have to go through this whole process.

I'm really looking forward to the Discovery Channel special on Sunday. Ted Koppel's appearance last night on the Daily Show to plug the special was also pretty good. Between Ted's comments last night and your comments this morning about cancer and humor, I wish there was some venue or forum for us to share our humor, as black as it may seem to some on the outside of Cancer World. There are some truly surreal moments of insanity in Cancer World that only we as patients can appreciate (I am still amused by Miriam Engelberg's description of the three-armed gown in radiology).

Sent by Bob Maimone | 6:42 PM ET | 05-04-2007

The weekend before my 18 month old son was dignosed with liver cancer, I thought his belly looked a little uneven when changing his diaper. At the time, I thought I would ask his doctor at his 18 month check up scheduled in two weeks. That very Tuesday, the tumor ruptured and he ended up in the ER. I often thought if I would have been more careful, his condition would have been a stage 1 instead of stage 2 cancer. If he was in stage 1, he may not had to go thru all the chemo treatments and subsequently, the hearing lost. I felt very very guilty for a long time. Now I am very paranoid about every bump and bruises he gets.

I agree with Al about the caregiver side of the story. There are often guilt and depression that we don't feel comfortable to express since we are not the one with cancer. Who are we to complain and whine? However, on the flip side, it is so difficult to watch your love one suffer and wish you could do something to help. I don't think the outside world understand the whole story about the cancer world until they hear the effect it has not only on the patient but also on the close families.

Sent by grace | 6:57 PM ET | 05-04-2007

How am I different? What have I learned?
I think about these questions all the time and, after reading Al and Tom's comments I know the big answer: I learned the depth of my husband's devotion to me. Every day, he cared for me, anticipated my needs, bought and cooked food I could tolerate, handled my instant menopause,listened to my endless whining about my radiation-ravaged skin, and entertained well-wishers when I could not be sociable.
I am into my second year of remission and I look back on the difficult days and I see my husband's face as the face of hope.

Sent by Robin Smith | 7:26 PM ET | 05-04-2007

I don't look back much in terms of wondering what I might have done differently. I had 20 years of mammograms, including one just 3 months before diagnosis with Stage III breast cancer! Just recently, though, I've learned a few things that make me wonder "what if" my HMO had given me an MRI instead of a mammogram. I just learned that women with dense breast tissue like mine (with lots of "calcification") have 5 times greater risk of cancer than other women. AND mammograms find the cancer in that type of breast tissue less than 50% of the time! So - what if they had done an MRI? I don't feel angry, because I believe their intentions were good. But right now I'm a little irritated, because my HMO is STILL suggesting a mammogram of my other breast rather than an MRI, even when presented with the research that indicates that may well be a useless diagnostic test in my case!

I do think I'm a more compassionate, forgiving and humble person than in the past, but cancer is only one of many experiences that can cause those kinds of changes. Anything that vividly demonstrates the fragility of life can have a similar effect: having a friend who was killed in a car wreck, the Alzheimer's Disease of my father and grandfather, watching a younger relative struggle with mental illness and addiction. They all taught me how little control I have and how important it is to be fully aware and appreciative of each moment we are alive.

Sent by Doris | 8:38 PM ET | 05-04-2007

i had uterine cancer in 2003. they removed the tumor and i chose not to have radiation. in my case i'm glad i chose not to have radiation since the after effects of the surgery have been hell. i am now living and teaching in chile. it is still a roller coaster ride. some days i absolutely hate it and other days i'm so very grateful for what i've learned and being a survivor is like being a survivor of anything else. we all are in one way or another.

Sent by terri tucker | 9:09 PM ET | 05-04-2007

And yes, I too think a sister blog for caregivers is a terrific idea...count me in for it.

Sent by Bruce | 10:06 PM ET | 05-04-2007

Well, I couldn't have had a colonoscopy because of my age when diagnosed; as I was 43; and insurance doesn't pay for screening colonscopy until age 50. And it did not run in the family.I had surgery, and went for almost 2 years before it was found to have mets in my liver and lung..
I think on your blog the day before in talking about death in the room, yeah, we all know we have to die, but I don't think anyone really wants to know about when, and yet, when you have this then you think about it, moreso I guess..I try to not think of it, and live while I'm here, when I feel allright, on the days I feel bad, thats when I think of it more...The worst part, is that somehow I feel I'm letting my family down, yet, I can't help that...Prayer and God is what helps me and my family the most...

Sent by Elsie Susie Hager | 1:06 AM ET | 05-05-2007

Dear Leroy: can someone tell me what are the last stages of the stage before death of breast cancer stage four. is it the pain, the morphine patch, or the increase in chemo treatments.? i know we are not gods and cannaot predict the future, but is there a website that describes this? Thank you so much for your blog. I will be watching Ted Koppel on Sunday. I read your column every day. It's my sister who breast cancer stage four, and she lives i another country. thank you for the work you are doing wth your blog. it's lifesaving.

Sent by Ailsa | 1:10 AM ET | 05-05-2007

What if I never had cancer?

My life would be less full.

Sent by Teri Thomas | 8:09 AM ET | 05-05-2007

What if he had not gotten cancer? My 20yr old daughter Sara has asked herself that question many times in this past year. Her boyfriend Ben, died last Nov, seven months after his diagnosis. Through all the pain, emotional as well as physical, Ben & his family have embraced Sara with loving arms. They have become her family also. They have shared laughter,tears, and goodbyes. The last goodbye was today, Leroy. Sara left for Calif. to try her hand at organic farming. A beautiful young woman, whose hiking pack weighed almost as much as she did. Her body taking the shape of the letter C as she walked into the airport terminal under the weight of all she ownes on her shoulders, and in her heart. She leaves Missouri with new insight on the precious little time we humans have in this world, and is committed to changing our environment. So, what if he hadn't got cancer? She might not have the courage to follow her dreams, and she certainly wouldn't have two Mothers that love her and a Father who wants to protect her. (My husband, Sara's Father, died five years ago this June.) She said she is glad to have survived this experience, and now it is time to go have a little fun, like a 20 year old should do.
So,for any of you out there in similar situations, do what you have to, and look for the smallest thing that is positive in every day you are here.

Sent by Leah Wellman | 11:01 AM ET | 05-05-2007

I think some things are unavoidable. I had a clear colonoscopy the October before my Gynecologist felt the small mass in my rectum. I had had some slight bleeding in the spring but the same colonoscopy had diagnosed me with internal hemorroids so I wasn't concerned. I did what I was supposed to do, no family history, no drug use, very low alcohol consumption, moderate regular exercise. I try not to look back and wonder, but I think it was going to happen in my case. Luckily for me, my gynecologist did a complete exam. My concern for the past is more what would have happened if I had't had that exam and I had gone on ignoring the bleeding.

Sent by Chris | 11:08 AM ET | 05-05-2007

All our experiences make us who we are - good and bad. I have many reasons for negative feelings about my cancer dx, and yet it has brought me many pluses as well...things I don't want to lose.
The wisdom says that one of the few things we can do or influence is ourselves and change how we feel about things. easier to say than to do.
I try, but I'm not perfect

Sent by JJ | 3:07 PM ET | 05-05-2007

We did a lot of "what if's" in our family too. What if my Dad hadn't retired to a small town and transferred to a wonderful doctor who believes in preventative medicine? What if he hadn't recommended a colonoscopy to all his 50+ patients? What if Dad had fluffed him off or was too embarrassed to have one done? What if they hadn't found those polyps right away? What if they hadn't urged him to have surgery immediately? What if his siblings hadn't heeded his warning and had their own colonoscopies done? I know now the answers to all of those "what if's"...my Dad (and one of his siblings) would be dead now instead of enjoying his life. Keep spreading the message, you can save lives.

Thank you for sharing your journey.

Sent by Laura | 8:02 AM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy, my best friend died of colon cancer over two years ago and there is still a lingering feeling of "if she had just gone in for a test a few years earlier." But then I would not have learned the meaning of compassion as I do now, especially with other people in my life who have cancer now. I think it is about living life large, with everything in it, the good and the not so good. Keep well and writing.

Sent by Pat Zalewski | 10:25 AM ET | 05-06-2007

As the daughter of a mom recently diagnosed with stage 4 kidney cancer, I appreciate having the opportunity to read and hear your story. Your openess and ability to translate your emotions and doubts into words is unique. Reading, information and knowledge are the key to learning to deal with many things and move forward. My mom is 71 and has been a powerful inspiration on my life. Having lost her husband, my dad when she was 32, she had the strength and character to raise 3 children and continue to enjoy life and show no remorse. She is tackling this new challenge in her life with the same vigor, good humor, and bold acceptance as she always has. SHe insisted on sitting down to discuss her wishes days before surgery to remove her kidney. I was not ready but she insisted and I slowly understood her need to assure her things were in order whether or not I was ready to accept it. Living across the ocean from home and my mom has made my communication by phone very important to me and our daily or every other day conversations some good some not so good a constant reminder to me to life each day. Enjoy the things we can enjoy and find goodness in the small things that enter our lifes. My prayers to all who are working to survive and deal with cancer, the renewal and the changes. Thanks for sharing these changes to help others to deal with their changes and life. God Bless.

Sent by Joyce | 12:21 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I had the rare privelege of meeting Leroy during Operation Iraqi Freedom when he was in the desert during the invasion phase of Iraq in 2003.

He is an incredibled force. His personality and strength will hopfully see him through these difficult days.

My mother died of cancer some years ago, so I understand the debillitating disease that it is.

Leroy, you have a great deal of strength, I wish you all the best in your battle against this curse, I know you have the fortitude to make it through.

All the best

Geof

Sent by Geof Thorpe-Willett | 5:27 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy, I know the feeling about cancer. I lost my grandmother to lung cancer in 1999 and now I'm losing my grandfather to it this year. But, what's kept me strong and my head cleared is the fact that what I knew 8 years ago I utilized this year with the help of a very good dear friend who lost his mother to emphysema in 1980 and I have a landlord who's family who's been supportive,too. Both he and his wife have been. Hang in because your church group and family friends are with you,too.

Sent by Michele | 6:42 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I talk about my cancers too - so people know what we look like. Other people like us need to know we exist - and we can manage to live, love and laugh even still. I joined a wonder canadian mail list for breast cancer, we laughed and cried and discussed the technical details of our health and treatment options becoming our own best advocates.

One of my heroes got breast cancer, Molly Ivins - I read her article and though goddamn it she's right - suddenly we get the opportunity to really focus on what's important.

Those who care for cancer survivors have a different and equal need for support and should reach out to a group..

Sent by Valerie | 7:25 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy,
I am impressed with your clarity of thought. I am not a cancer patient or survivor, I am an oncology/hematology/transplant nurse. You describe life with cancer to a 'T'. My life at work is all about cancer, survival, death. Most of my patients die and I have nothing but respect for the complexity of this disease. I must tell you what I feel in my heart is that every patient, person, I care for is my reason for being. What you are living through is unimaginable, but what you are giving back is precious! Thank you for going beyond & giving back.

Sent by Kimberly | 9:31 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy,...

Whereas I've been an admirer of Ted Koppel for decades, as of tonight,and watching your special with Ted., you are one of my newest most "admired" person.

You are intelligent, productive, articulate, brave, strong, handsome, and its difficult to believe, looking at you of the challenge that lies before you.

You remind me of my best college friend. Soooo very much alike. And to think it could have just as easily been you. It makes me want to call him more often and remind him of what his friendship has meant to me. A friendship that is is endless.

I've been touched this evening, with a reality check. As Martha would say,... "it's a good thing". I think your determination will see you through and we will look forward to years more of your contributions.

Take care of yourself and best of luck.

John/Evansville, Indiana

Sent by JPRaibley | 9:46 PM ET | 05-06-2007

If both my mom and boyfriend had not gotten cancer in the same year (this year, my freshman year of college)...I would be less strong. My mother is currently post-treatment for lung cancer, and my boyfriend is in-treatment for Stage II B-Cell lymphoma. Watching them, supporting them through the darkest days of their lives, having to stand by and merely listen--it has made me stronger. I often joke that if I ever get cancer, I'll be the most well-informed patient ever. Hopefully it will never come to that, but if it does, I will be ready to fight it. Leroy, thank you for your candor. It cannot be easy at times.
In a way, it is strange to think of this year going smoothly--me going off to a college 700 miles away from home, and my mom getting sick just after I left. She didn't tell me until a week before her surgery to remove her left lung (the cancer hadn't spread, and her chemo was prophylactic, another word I didn't know the meaning of until this year). She recovered during the Christmas holidays, and I learned patience from her often-halting steps. But her cancer did not really touch me. I wasn't there when she was diagnosed, wasn't there during the scans.
Upon my return to school in January, my boyfriend was under the weather for a solid month, with chest pains and pesky cold-like symptoms. When he passed out at work from the pains, he was rushed to the hospital and had x-rays taken. A week later, he called me and said, "I have lymphoma." I refused to leave him, although he told me I had the option. Three months later, his prognosis is good, and he'll be post-treatment too, in another month.
So really, I have to thank cancer. Its galvanized me, both as an individual and as a family member. Its made me patient, loving, and accepting. Its also given me the most unforgettable freshman year ever.

Sent by Rachel from NC | 9:58 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Mr Sievers,

I am a Cancer survivor. I am just 27 years old now. I fought Cancer for better than a year while ringing in my 21st birthday. I fought hard and as far as the last five years have shown, I've won my battle. However, every day of my life, even now, I am reminded of my experience.

Every time I walk past a tree that seems larger than life, every time I see a sunset, and even when I watch a father hold his son, I am reminded. Lance Armstrong wrote in his first book, "we are the lucky ones". I never thought I would understand that until I laid seige to take my body back despite seemingly unsurmountable odds.

I simply wanted to thank you for doing what I did not, that is documenting your experience. If I have any regrets about my fight, it is not keeping a video diary. That is something I will always regret. Your experience will forever be accessible to those that may need it the most.

Thank you for being so open and allowing us to cross our fingers with you. You've showed astounding bravery and you've done it with us, complete strangers. I wish I could have done something to have been a part of this program.

Thank you Mr. Sievers.

Sincerely,

Garrett E. Olsen

Sent by Garrett E. Olsen | 10:22 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Dear Leroy: I am a woman of faith, I don't know how you stand on that, but there it is.
I was diagnosed with stage III non-small cell lung cancer. I had an inoperable tumor the size of a lime in my right lung, that had metastisized to some of my lymph nodes.
One day as I sat in a resteraunt with my husband, in total panic, a thought popped into my head..."If you could give your cancer to anyone in that room, who would I choose". I looked around and studied the people sitting there; a mother with small children, a young couple who seemed to be so in love with each other, an old man who ate by himself, and already seemed alone. I couldn't wish it on anyone.
I now recognize that as the moment I knew it was how my life was going to be, and if I didn't face this with all the strenght I could muster, I would loose.
So I joined a clinical trial for lung cancer being run by the University of Michigan. I had 6 weeks of radiation and chemo and then after 3 weeks another 6 weeks of chemo, and have been in remission for 3 years.
Did it change my life? In every way, physically, mentally, financally. I lost my job, some of my friends, and I made a lot of new ones too. All of my relationships changed in one way or another. But I also gained a new respect for myself; I am a very strong women, I am capable of facing, enduring and overcoming any obstical that I'm confronted with.
I am watching the Ted Koppel special, that's how I found you.
God Bless

Sent by Ginger | 10:33 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I am a breast cancer survivor and my mom has recently died of multiple myeloma. I am very hurtful of not helping my mom and spending more time with her I feel because I thought she was going to feel better and live longer than she did. She only lived 8 months from her diagnosis. I never said good-bye or gave her a hug and kiss. I wish so badly I could see her again.
Dawn

Sent by Dawn | 10:33 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy,

I just watched the show with Ted Koppel. As an Oncology nurse, I have to thank you for coming forward and being so honest to the world. People need to see brave and honest people like you!
Good luck in your continued fight. You're in my prayers.

Sent by Margie Mastrome RN, OCN | 10:39 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy,

I am currently watching you on the Koppel program. I am a prostate cancer survivor and just want to say thanks. This was very inspirational. My surgery was 6 months ago and so far my PSA is holding at .01. I have another blood test next month and then every six months. I know my cancer is very curable and like you am not affraid to talk about it. I feel that every person that knows may go out and get checked. Hopefully if they have it they will catch it early and get treatment. Then hopefully they will spread the word.

Sent by Bob Brandenburg | 10:44 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I am a mother of 7 great children and at age 33 i have been told that i have hpv and possible breast cancer. Right now i feel very alone and very scared of all this news i feel like in my life that there is noone that understands or cares and some of my family seems very cold and rude with what i have told them??? but i watched the program on t.v and i feel that i am not alone and i am a fighter who is not willing to just throw in the towel so to say you really made me think and smile thank you so very much!!

Sent by Lynette | 10:45 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Hi Leroy.

Thanks to your friend Ted Koppel, I "met" you tonight. I had to stop watching finally during the Q&A because the program was very hard and painful for me. Much harder than actually going through it again. I realized just how much the cancer has affected my psyche and how afraid I am that it will come back.

I realized my worst fear is not just that the cancer will come back but that it will take all my dreams away.

I can't work in a cubicle any more. I bolted from my job a month ago. Helping people manage their cellphones just didn't do it for me any more. I felt I was somehow violating a spiritual law against wasting precious time.

I will be going to Bernie Siegels' ECaP group starting on Tuesday (my work schedule had prevented that previously).

I want to start a 501(c)(3) to aid victims of disaster in the US.

I want to see the Pyramids, the Coliseum, a pride of lions in their own real habitat.

I realize how powerless and fragile we are. I pray there is a life after this one. I hope we can come back again.

Thank you for sharing so generously of yourself with so many.

Sent by Alycia Keating | 10:45 PM ET | 05-06-2007

hello and thank you for your efforts. i wonder how it would be if you asked yourself the question: What would it be like if i could take some credit for healing my cancer? On your Living with Cancer program, no one so far(maybe Lance) has talked about what changes they made outside of the chemo regimen. What about your diet, stress mgmnt, yoga, or massage was helpful? Were you instructed in ways to visualize healing, taught to meditate, or learned to increase your natural immune boosters? I'm not saying that anyone can simply heal themselves with a positive thought, but from dealing with many patients and family members, i know healing happens in many forms, and living with cancer forces you to change and challenges your mindsets. Traditional medicine may yet hold the key to solving the riddles of cancer, but right now living with cancer can only be empowering if one is open to new things and being in touch with the body's own defense and immunity, just because you're a Western Medical Traditionalist in your approach shouldn't mean that you would exclude other healthy habits that would easily integrate into your lifestyle, right?
wishing you health and happiness....

Sent by Jon sullivan | 10:46 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Thank you, so much, for your conversation with Ted Koppel. I am a stage IV rectal cancer survivor, just past my first anniversary of being declared NED. Like you, I've been given a reprieve, at least for the moment, and like you, I'm not ready to stop living. I'm now 51, and I have to have made it this far for some reason.

Sent by Pat Steer | 10:47 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy;

To me it makes no sense to ponder who I would have been if there was no cancer. The reality is that there was and because of it I am who I am and I do what I do. I emerged from treatment a kinder, gentler, less driven person. One who can appreciate the tiniest things in life. All that came because of cancer, in a major way, my cancer is a blessing to me even though I know that I will someday surely die from it.

Sent by Pastor Doug Fletcher | 10:49 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Mr.Sievers,
I am a nurse and have cared for and observed the journey of patients who struggle with living and dying--not always from cancer. As I watched the documentary of your experience "living with cancer", I thought the story was strangely beautiful because it is a story that focuses on the essence of living--not dying. As a society, we are seldom open and honest with our fellow human beings. Being faced with a mortal illness as you have been has caused you to be more approachable and human. I expected the program to be depressing but found it to be inspiring and a celebration of the essence of living each moment of our lives as fully as possible. Thank you for sharing that with all of us.

Sent by Joy | 10:51 PM ET | 05-06-2007

After a very close friend was dx with inoperable colon cancer, I finally relented and at the age of 66 went for a colonscopy. That was a year ago April 2006. My colon resection to remove two cancer polyps, a tumor through the colon wall and two lymph nodes a year ago this coming May 16. My second colonoscopy was three weeks ago and one small polyp was removed. At the time, my GI Doc shared with me that if I had not come in a year ago, we would probably be attending my funeral this April since it would have gone undetected until it was too late. Since then I have become the local poster child for colonoscopy and am responsible for 6 of my friends going forward with it. I still have the fear that the big C will show up somewhere else and will have to undergo chemo again, but that is what one has to do to combat this disease. In the meantime I have come up with a new curse: You should never have cancer, but you should undergo chemo for the rest of your life. To me those who have had chemo treatments are the real survivors. Good luck on your journey through life.

Sent by Stan Feldman | 10:53 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Hi Mr. Sievers, I have just finished watching the show 'Living with Cancer' and enjoyed it very much. I was diagnosed with lung cancer a year ago in April. Your discussion of how you and others live and deal with cancer is very important to not only the cancer patient but the family and friends as well. I want to thank you and Ted Koppel for providing this program. I am not involved with the LCA community forum where I am a moderator and try to provide help and support to others with lung cancer. It is very important that people know we have a disease that should be discussed .. it's not some to be hidden nor to be ashamed of. We have a disease with a name and a face to go with it.

Sent by Bette Swann | 11:08 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Leroy,I have read your blog for sometime. I really am not one to post but tonight I am. I am a three time ten year survivor of Non Hodgkins.
I just wanted to day thanks for giving all of us with cancer a voice. One that is much needed.
What if I never had cancer? Seems I have lived with it so long. I am not sure that I know how not to now. I am not sure it makes sense to some except maybe those of us who have.
I can't dwell on it but when I have tests although I am five years clean. I still think about the ..What ifs? I think thats part of being human. As well as cancer being what it is a disease.
Life is for living and I think wasting this gift we have each day. Well it would be a waste. Each day is a bonus and to be lived as such.
There are so many of us out there..that for me its my resposiblity to talk and keep talking. Maybe that makes you me and other cancer patients teachers. So that monster becomes livable to those out there..who are just starting out.
Anyways I just wanted to say thanks so much for sharing.

Sent by Kerry | 11:10 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I must admit I had not heard of Leroy or the documentary. I happened to be cleaning up the kitchen Sunday evening and turned on the TV. I heard the word "cancer," which now immediately gets my attention. I was able to catch about one hour of the documentary.

I am a 44 year old, married, mother of three who was diagnosed and treated for breast cancer last year. I am doing very well, but I do worry about its possible/probable return.

Leroy, you so eloquently put into words the fears, hopes, sadness and "benefits" of the disease. These are feelings that a person has no way of realizing until you yourself are told you have cancer.

Thank you for giving so much of yourself. You are a blessing!

Sent by Cheryl | 11:18 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I just saw the Ted Koppel special. I have to admit I never knew of you or that this blog existed before I saw you on TV tonight. I admire your strength and the strength of many cancer survivors. And I cried tears of joy when your ablation treatment was successful.
My husband lived 4 years with prostate cancer and has been gone 4 yrs now. My sister had breast cancer 3 years ago and my mom had lung cancer 2 years ago. They are both doing well. So I am not a stranger to this disease. But I came to think it was something others had and I would be the caretaker, as I had done 3 times. (I'm also a registered nurse). Last summer I finally went to the Dr. because I had a feeling that I had cancer. I had been feeling like that for about a year but had no symptoms at all. I thought I was just being paranoid. I told my Dr. and he reluctantly ordered a CT scan. Lo and behold...he called me the next day and told me I had a 3cm. mass on my kidney. For me...utter disbelief. I supposed to be the "caretaker" not the one needing care. My mass was malignant and contained in the kidney. There is apprx. 2% chance statistically of recurrence. I'm rambling...thanks for chance to just talk...it's a relief!! I would love to see anothe special that included the point of view of the caretaker. It was an inspiring, touching show. You, Elizabeth, Lance and Ted did a wonderful job of showing the vulnerability and the strength of a person with this disease. Thank you.

Sent by Kathie Scott | 11:20 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I am not sure where to begin. My brother is an alcoholic. He was diagnoised with stage 4 cancer December 2005. Scuamous cell carcinoma of the pharyncs. I beleive directly as a result of his abuse of the alcohol. I am not quite sure where to go with this. I am angry and maybe I should drop it there and write in again later. I am his little/big sister. In otherwords, he always looked to me in ways a little brother would but I am his little sisiter. I walked every step of the way in his diagnosis and treatment. Every day and sometimes two and three times a day. Taking him to every appointment as I would my own children. And like a child he promised me he wasn't drinking.... He went thru radiation every day for several months and towards the end of his treatment twice a day. And chemo, one day a week each month for 4 months and went home with a pump which he wore for 4 days. He went from 6'2" & just over 200 lbs., to just under 130 lbs. & stooped to just under 6'. He was a mess not just from the treatment but from drinking the entire time. He was scheduled for his last round of chemo when I caught him at the liquor store buying a bottle of Vodka and it had not been his first! He had been given a new lease on life, at 50 years old he was given a second chance, and he blows it by walking into his appointment with a blood alcohol level thats "off the charts" his doctor is quoted as saying. Now I do not know if he is cured either from his abuse or he cancer, I don't beleive you are ever cured. I don't expect this to be posted, but its a start of my story and I am writing because this is my struggle and I need to tell it...

Sent by Nathy Gibbs | 11:28 PM ET | 05-06-2007

My husband, Dean, just watched the whole 3 hours of "Living With Cancer" with me!! He is a GIST liver metastasis patient (gastrointestinal stromal tumor, a rare sarcoma). Dean always says he only deals with GIST when he has to smack into it. The program was wonderful, and I am so grateful that you gave him something he really wanted to see and hear. You are such a plain spoken man with a good sense of humor, and that describes Dean, too. Lance Armstrong is so inspiring, and Elizabeth Edwards is honest and friendly. Ted Koppel is always welcoe in our home. Thank you!!

Sent by Diane Schmitz | 11:34 PM ET | 05-06-2007

I watched your story on the Discovery Channel this evening. I thought it was very informative. I don't have cancer but my nine year old son does. He was diagnosed with a rare form of Leukemia in August 2005. After several rounds of chemo he had a Bone Marrow Transplant on Thanksgiving 2005. It was a very difficult time, but to date he is doing very well.

I read your blog after the show and thought about the "what if" question. I asked myself that question so often. What if I had noticed the signs earlier, because they were there, I just didn't know. Could it have changed things? Would he had to have gone through so much treatment? After a while I decided I couldn't do it anymore, I was just beating myself up. I still get worried about the blood test and he will have surgery tomorrow to remove a port. I am greatful for everyday of good health and have changed my outlook on life. As a caregiver of a child I have a little different perspective than yourself, but the worries are still the same.

Sent by Randy | 11:42 PM ET | 05-06-2007

Thank you Leroy, for your part in the Discovery Channel special on Living with Cancer. I am a 12 yr. survivor of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma stage 4. In the begining, my doctors only gave me a 50/50 chance of living 5yrs. Like you, if there was a one in a million chance , I wanted to be that one and I clung to that hope. I, also found out, how cancer has the ability to narrow our focus and the things we often think are so important realy aren't. That is a blessing most people don't seem to have. Thank you for the special tonight and for the blog. Don't stop hoping, miracles still happen, I'm one of them.

Sent by Rick Suddith | 11:52 PM ET | 05-06-2007

What if?

I was diagnosed at 45 (7 years ago) with advanced prostate cancer - it has been a wake up call. I suppose if that had never happened I'd be chasing a corporate job some where with too little time to enjoy my life. Now I worry that I have too little time to enjoy. A good trade off?

I just watched the wonderful documentary with Ted Koppel. It has made me reconsider how to spend the rest of my life - I don't know what I'll do but there will be no "what ifs"

ernie

Sent by Ernie Muenchau | 12:00 AM ET | 05-07-2007

I just saw Living with Cancer tonight. What a powerful program. I was diagnosed with lung cancer on Jan.19 2007 which had spread to my brain. I had a full course of radiation treatments, then started chemo. I made it through 2 chemo sessions and was so sick. I opted to stop treatment and go straight to Hospice. After watching the program tonight I feel like maybe I pulled the plug too quickly.I am going to see my doctor again and try to get him to tell me truth about continuing with chemo or not. I feel like I lost a month or more of my life because of the horrid side effects,but then I see what Leroy went through, and think I'm stronger than what I thought. I'm just having such a hard time getting my doctor to give me enough facts to make an intelligent choice. The ironic twist to all of this is I had Breast cancer 17 years ago and it has never returned. I'm only 52 and want to live as long as possible. Thank you again for the wonderful program. It has made me rethink my entire disease, and my response to it. Megan

Sent by Megan Edwards | 12:14 AM ET | 05-07-2007

what if, I can say I honestly never said what if, or why for that matter. I was 33, a single mother of an 11 year old, I had just bought a house and had not made the first payment when I was diagnosed with stage II breast cancer, did the standard mastectomy and chemo, and then surprise 36 months later it was in T-12 of my spine and since I felt like I would be a complainer over a little back ache, it took a compression fracture for this to be found. So I began again radiation and more chemo. Well 36 months later it appeared in my femur (hence I have a rod put in tomorrow morning). Who has time for what if, I guess I just go with the flow, sure I get rattled, I wouldn't be human if I didn't. I work in a hospital with a great bunch of people who are right there beside me, they know before I do that I am getting edgy about upcoming test or appointments. They laugh with me and they cry with me. Something that my family sometimes has a hard time doing. My mom feels she always has to be positive and strong, I have learned to accept that each one of us deal with the "C" word in our own way. Mine is to do as much living as I can possibly do. I took chemo one afternoon in Atlanta, my dad and I drove to Perry so we could pick up my nephew on a friday afternoon and we went back to the Atlanta speedway to watch the nascar qualifying that night. I don't want my son or my nephews remembering me as always being sick. I want to be remembered as always having fun and having a smile on my face. What you are doing is a great thing for all of us in the "Cancer Club", tho I wish someone could find a way to make this "surviving" a little more affordable, it will bankrupt those that are low to middle class even being insured. They tell you that you are disabled, but some of us do still work, but by working we don't qualify for medicaid or medicare as a secondary. I could hand over my paycheck every two weeks and would not put a dent in my medical bills, co-pays, 10% for generic rx's but 30% for namebrand (me personally haven't found to many of my meds to be generic). Boy I feel better getting that off of my chest. KEEP SMILING!!!
Cheryl

Sent by Cheryl | 12:23 AM ET | 05-07-2007

I was only able to see half of your show tonight, but plan to see the rest on rebroadcast. THANK YOU LEROY!! I can't say enough to those who made this documentary/town hall possible. My heart is squarely in the midst of this fight to make a national priority out of cancer research. Hearing you articulate many emotions and ideas surrounding your journey with cancer made me feel less alone. My 6-year-old daughter is a cancer survivor--stage III non-Hodgkin lymphoma. She has a Caringbridge site I could post here if allowed. Because of the unique relationship a mother has with a young child, it is difficult for me to articulate what it was like to not only watch her go through two years of chemo but to also administer the daily oral drugs. She is a survivor, yet she is being followed very closely, with a 30% chance of recurrence this year. I am a single parent and have been her primary caregiver, in the middle of the circle of caring medical staff. It is hard for me to know what to do with having watched children I came to know pass away with their cancers, what to do with the experience of living away from home among other families with children in crisis for nine months in Seattle while she underwent intensive treatment. Sometimes, I spent two weeks at a time in isolation with her during rounds of chemo. My heart goes out to everyone whose life is touched by a loved one going through cancer treatment, but somehow watching these youngest among us is beyond words. Even though it was not my body with the cancer, there were many times I wished I could take it from her into me. So, even though I am not directly the cancer survivor, my perspective is forever changed, and I am acutely aware of time passing like never before. All I can do is continue to look for opportunities to lift up families dealing with childhood cancer, but some days I feel so isolated and don't know how to find "normal" again. I feel I should be jumping up and down for joy when I see my Carli has survived when other parents have lost their child. Other days, I think about the trade I made. Since children did not start surviving their cancers until 30 years ago, physicians are just now learning the side effects of the drugs that are manifested 10, 20, even 30 years down the road. So, I can expect to watch for ovarian failure as she enters puberty, need to tell her to be vigilant about sudden congestive heart failure at age 30. I guess the only answer to the trade is to practice constant gratitude for the days of health that have been bought, but I will never be able to hear the words "cancer cure" and think the journey is over.

Sent by Erin Waterman | 12:34 AM ET | 05-07-2007

Hello Leroy. I recently, and suddenly, lost a father from a brain hemmorrhage secondary to a metastatic braind lesion from Renal Cell Carcinoma. He was 61. I am 33. Tonight I turned on Discovery and saw "living with cancer" and had to see your blog. I saw the "what if" and my mind quickly raced. My father died from cancer and he nor any of his family or friends knew of it. His dear doctor of many years did not know it. It was his first day of retirement and my wife was going into labor with my second child. I spoke to my father and he was going to hop in the car with my mother for the 1.5 hour drive once we got to the hospital. I called his cell phone again and my mother answered saying dad wasn't feeling well. That he was neglecting his right side and was very dizzy. My father has high blood pressure and diabetes. I am in the medical field and thought stroke. I told my mom to call 911. My wife quickly went into active labor and I was busy for the next 4.5 hours until my son was born. I never spoke to my father again. He had a grand mal seizure in the ER and he was quickly paralyzed and intubated. They scanned his head and found three lesions. They scanned his body and found the primary tumor, Renal Cell, along with metastises all over his body. We never knew, he never knew. One of the lesions bled that night and he was gone. We discontinued care two days later after all his family could say good-bye. I think, "what if"? "what if" he knew? "what if" we knew? What would my father have done? Would he have had chemotherapy? Surgery? Would saying good-bye be easier or harder? Would I still have this huge void in my life? We have a family friend whom is one of the longest surviving chemotherapy/radiation/bone marrow transplant recipients in the country. He was diagnosed with CML in the early 1980's and given only a few years to live. 20+ years later he stood at my fathers bedside and said, "he is the lucky one". No symptoms, no pain...just sleep. That gave me great comfort then and it still does. "What if"...? I do not have cancer. But I respect anyone who does that much more because of the very difficult choices they make. "what if.." I wish you luck and all the best during the bumpy road ahead.

Sent by Alex Zamora | 12:41 AM ET | 05-07-2007

Leroy,

I watched, with great interest, Living With Cancer tonight. I was diagnosed just over 3 years ago with Stage IV rectal cancer at age 44. After radiation & continuous 5FU chemo, I had an 8 hour surgery to remove my rectum, bring out a colostomy & use RFA to remove 3 mets on my liver. This was followed by 6 rounds of adjuvant chemo. Things were great on the first follow-up CT scan. On the second one, about one year after surgery, some liver mets had returned & I've had twenty-some rounds of chemo since then. I noticed you were on oxilaplatin also. Tough stuff, boy. Especially in the cold weather which I have to deal with in No. MN. The chemo initially was successful in that it cut the liver mets about in half, leveled off at that point, and now a new met has appeared a few weeks ago. My oncologist is switching me to a different "cocktail". We'll see how that goes. I was very interested to hear that you had RFA to remove your lung mets. I'm thinking I should be more persistent with my oncologist in persuing that option once again for the mets in my liver. All in all, I know & live what you're going through. I also have a wife & a 13-year-old son & they live it along with me although I sometimes think it's tougher on them than on me!

Sent by Marty | 12:44 AM ET | 05-07-2007

Please include information about pancreatic cancer - the underfunded most lethal kind of cancer. It just took my mother's life a month ago. She was diagnosed in December and died on March 27th. Symptoms started when it had methastasized to the liver and the spleen and she developed a pain in her abdomen that radiated to her back. A CT scan revealed she had pancreatic cancer in the tail of her pancreas. She underwent chemotherapy and a week after finishing her treatment, she died. There is no preventive examination for this deadly form of cancer and more research money should be raised. Pancreatic cancer patients and their families feel abandoned by the cancer researchers. I felt so frustrated and sad. I am sure the frustration felt by our family is a general one among patients with this type of cancer.

Sent by Disi301 | 12:56 AM ET | 05-07-2007

STEPHAINE ARE YOU THERE!!!!!!

MY HUSBAND AND I WATCHED THE SHOW AND CRIED MOST THE TIME. MY HUSBAND WAS SHOCKED ON SEPT 21, 2005 WITH PANCREATIC CANCER. WE KNOW THE ROLLER COASTER EFFECT. WHEN THE SHOW WENT TO DISCUSSION, KOPPEL NOTED THAT STEPHAINE HAD SOME POSITIVE RESULTS. WE GOGGLED STEPAHINE AND COULDN'T FIND ANYTHING. WE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT EXACTLY IS THE GOOD NEWS. WE ALSO NOTED THAT SHE SAID SHE HAD A CHANCE TO LIVE FIVE YEARS. SO STEPHAINE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE US A BIT INFO. YOU HAVE GIVING US SOME MORE HOPE.
THANKS SOO MUCH!

Sent by KIM AND RUSSELL BRADBURY | 12:56 AM ET | 05-07-2007

It was good to see you and Koppel together again on Discovery Channel. I was a very early subscriber to your daily "Nighline" e-mails that so often made me smile. Indeed, I think you may have been one of the earliest "bloggers" long before anyone was using that term. Many of us felt that we knew you and worried about you during the colon cancer diagnosis and treatment.

And when you left "Nightline," I suggested that you consider publishing a collection of some of the best of the "Nightline" e-mails. I think you then were writing the first blog. Some readers only wanted to know what would be on the show that night, but I, and many others, also wanted to know what you were thinking about the topic. I'm sure that Al Gore did not invent the internet, but I think you just may have invented blogging. It's now considered a form of journalism, but I think you just naturally saw a way to use the www as a journalist.

Sent by Linda | 1:50 AM ET | 05-07-2007

When one is a 2 1/2 year breast cancer survivor and a 3 1/2 months stroke survivor like me, it's quite perplexing really, to first try & hurry up and organize everything in your life & then wondering if you're wasting your time doing so and wanting instead to do everything I've always wanted to do.. relearn to play the piano, play the guitar again, diary my thoughts & feelings, read so many books I've started, travel, etc, etc. A challenge, yes, and I am in

Life happens and cancer, stroke, etc. to me is all about life happening all over again. and again. Someone had asked me how I keep my spirits up. My reply was, "because the alternative, that is, being negative, is never acceptable".

How can I not remember to thank God for life for such a magnificent new day everyday, rain or shine?

Was there a lesson for me? Tons! And I'm still learning..

Sent by Marilou | 2:20 AM ET | 05-07-2007

I just watched the Ted Koppel presentation "Living With Cancer". As a 40 year old female finishing 18 months of treatment for breast cancer, I wanted to say thank you. You said things that I wish I could say to my family and friends. I'm going to ask them to watch, hoping that will give them an opportunity to talk - or not - to me about my cancer, or cancer in general. I think people are afraid of what to say, and listening to you and watching the presentation will open the doors of communication. So again, thank you to you, and your family for having the courage and honesty and willingness to open your lives to others.

Sent by Terri | 2:46 AM ET | 05-07-2007

Thank you for your honesty and participation in the Koppel special. I am an RN and know the more we talk and learn about cancer and the health care system (or lack thereof) the better.

Sent by Stella | 2:59 AM ET | 05-07-2007

I watched the Discovery Channel program this evening and was impressed with the candor presented particularly at the beginning when the discussion was about the type of care one receives based on who and what they have and where they are.
I was attended to at the Oregon Health/Science University here in Portland, Oregon, and have always felt that the care was above average and that there really was a team on my side. I was not always brought into the discussion because frankly, I just wanted this to move forward and at some point end. It will never end.
My cancer was in my face. It has taken my left eye, so it is a very public cancer and because of the radiation and the place of the squamos cell carcinoma, I am disfigured and feel totally handicapped pyschologically and emotionally. It is more than the big whale...because of it I am no longer a classroom teacher, a career which has brought me so much joy and pleasure...and I feel so very alone and have never felt comfortable with the concept of "survivor." I exist for family and friends, but the life that I knew is gone and I wanted to state that it doesn't always have a happy ending even if you remain among the living.

Sent by Ronald Martin | 3:03 AM ET | 05-07-2007

Leroy-
I just watched the Living with Cancer segment on Discovery. I feel that it is absolutly necessary for me to thank you for all that you have done. Thank you for participating and thank you for sharing youself with the public. As an undergraduate student with the intent to pursue a medical career, I am even more motivated and determined to help/care for others. I believe what you did is a great educational tool and also inspiration to those in need. Again, thank you!

Sent by Camden | 3:17 AM ET | 05-07-2007

Leroy

"We are today who we are exactly because of our choices and experiences in the past"... be that past one minute ago or 30 years ago or a lifetime ago.....

Yes it may be difficult for some to understand.. but I was "blessed" to have endured cancer 30+ years ago... it was a direct influence that has made me who I am today and allowed me many opportunities I might not have had otherwise!!

Everything that happens to and around us is yet another opportunity.. some difficult and some exhuberant.. but each and every one an opportunity to do or become something or someone good or evil.... the difference is what we CHOOSE to do with those opportunities...

My path and choices have lead me in many directions through those 30 years.. and today I WILL finally begin to help others......

Sent by Ronald K. Bye | 9:29 AM ET | 05-07-2007

LeRoy...good name, that was my father's name. Thank you for doing the show last night. I too am a Stage IIIa Colon Cancer survivor of 2 1/2 yrs. It is good for people to see that you CAN live with Cancer and that there is SO MUCH hope with new treatments out there now. I was a lot like Lance in that I never really "feared" the cancer. I suppose it is because of my faith in knowing where I will go when I die. My biggest challenge or fear was the "fear" others around me had. There IS a difference in how people act around you and talk around you. I feel like I was the "cheerleader" and I was the one with Cancer! LOL Believe it or not, that helped get me through the Chemo though. Positive attitude, laughter and my faith. It would have been nice to have the "care givers" point of view on the show as well too. My husband and I have talked more openly about this of late....his fears and how he coped with all this. I am glad I found your blog because I will add it to visit everyday now. I also belong to The Colon Club Forum as well and it has helped a LOT with the day to day living with Cancer. Just being able to share with others what you have and are going through and to be able to help others sure helps in this journey. Thank you again for putting yourself out there for us.

Sent by Peg | 12:11 PM ET | 05-07-2007

Hi, My Family and I are Cancer Survivors. My first wife did not. I really appreciate Leroy's; sincerity, honesty, and just plain straight forward interaction. My wife's cancer was CML, Chronic myelogenous leukemia. The wonderful Oncologist we had (one of the best from U OF M Hospital) told us he was going to bring her to the edge of death and back. We went on our roller coaster ride from September 29, 1993 to May 13, 1994. Our two sons were 15 & 13 the youngest was very close to his mother. I can describe the last day as it was yesterday from memory.

I often pray to God that neither of my sons will have to face such a terrible terror again. My Mother died from Cancer, my Maternal Grandmother also died from Cancer and now my boys mother died from Cancer. Their odds are not good, even more they both smoke.

The Oncologist told us the last day many things he could not because keeping the spirit of the patient up is such a great importance. One thing I remember is the Cancer raced through her body like a high speed Daytona Car. In June of 1993 she had a complete physical and in September she started dieing. I believe this program is so important and hope it will do more to support research on Cancer.

God Bless and Thank you.

Mike Symons

Sent by Mike Symons | 10:19 PM ET | 05-07-2007

Mr. Sievers,
Thank you so much for your courage and honesty in tonight's program. You've brought the dreaded word "cancer" out of the closet and into the open and given us all a forum to open a discussion when the time comes. None of us will leave this life without being touched one way or the other by this disease. Your mantra to life life with optimism is a lesson to all of us. I send my prayers to you for continued good health. You are a true warrior!

Sent by Judy G | 10:47 PM ET | 05-07-2007

I have been away from the blog for a week or so and terribly sorry I missed this entry.

What if my son never had histiocytosis? Hmm... seems almost like a loaded question but I will tell you thinking it over bring more blessings than sadness to mind. I think people in this community will understand.

I would not have learned about the highly committed professionals in the field of pediatric hematology/oncology. I am not just speaking of doctors but as you well know those nurse practiioners. We also are treated at a university hosptial in the midwest. We have learned about the highly committed people who will help us naviagte the ship - child life specialists who will help us work towards the healthy development of our child, and balance the precautions of chemotherapy with the normalacy a young 4 year old needs.

This will also sound off to those outside of this world but - my husband and I have learned to relax more and live in the moment. We are more successful this relapse than we were during inital treatment, however, it truley is a gift.

Yes - if we had not experienced this we would not know of the "water torture" waiting period of tests, or the side effects of chemo,the worry about what is to come,the wondering if you ever get back to the land of normal, or even the feeling of being "the other" and so envious of our friends with children not fighting a disease that we could spit nails.

Oh but .....so much - um, well, good - has come from this experience.

Sent by Melissa Thompson | 10:07 PM ET | 05-11-2007

Leroy - my wife Rose and I watched the Ted Koppel special on Discovery channel. We had taped it and I finally worked up the courage to watch it. I have to admit I haven't finished it yet, I had to turn it off as I realized I was just overwhelmed especially when I realized you had colon cancer and was almost at the 5 year mark when you found out you had brain cancer. I'm a two year survivor of colon cancer, stage 3. The second oncologist I had was outstanding, he signed me up for a trial that used 3 drugs over a 6 month period. It was like nothing I could have imagined. So much of it was a total fog. After the chemo was over I thought I would be back on my feet and back on my bicycle. Of course that didn't happen. It took me a full year before I was able to get back on my bike and more importantly just feel "normal" again. I agonized everytime I went in for the CT Scan and the relief I felt when I realized everything was still clear. When I watched the show I realized that someday it could come back and that scared the bejesus out of me. My goal is to finish watching the show this weekend.

Sent by Richard Welch | 11:55 PM ET | 05-29-2007

am 23 an had cancer on my bladder when i was 3 an i was wondering even though i have not ever had period can i have childern. the if not how will i make a man happy/?

Sent by dorshia carter | 2:50 PM ET | 03-25-2008