Leroy,

The dilemma that we fact as cancer patients seems, at times, to be almost unbearable. You speak of 'getting to work." One horn of the dilemma is that getting to work means fighting the cancer. But you, and all of us fighting cancer, also want to get to work on our dreams for the things that we want to do during the rest of our lives. How much energy will we need to do both types of work? How can we maintain a positive attitude as our bodies strain in response to treatments?

You are an inspiration, Leroy, in helping us to deal with this dilemma.

Sent by Andy Halpern | 6:28 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Good morning Leroy and all,

The so carefully laid out next three weeks of doctor, anesthesia, repeat biopsies, and post up follow up has been changed. It is now only CT scan. In October 2006, the surgeon threw that curve the first time. I guess that is ok, days that were occupied and slow, now can become filled with my stuff, except for that CT scan at least that is in the morning.

Has your recurrent tumors been there for a while, you won't know that, and you have tried hear what your body was saying to you, however, it was silent. Is that good, it did allow time to recoup and relax. What that good? Probably because it was an escape. Did it revitalize you? Probably, and that is good, because you have new energy.

The observation you make that the future is foggy and undetermined is true for all us. We must live until we die, and that is all we can do.

There is a realization in today's blog, and a determination.... GOOD MOVE.

Sent by Susan Chap | 6:57 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I hear the resignation in your voice...it's back, maybe it never left, I have a plan so I will rally my body's resources (mind, body, spirit)and bring the fight to the cancer as best I can. That's the plan for "now" and "now" is what I must deal with.

I would encourage you to still hold on tightly, fiercely to the dreams of your future for work and play. In the dark hours, those dreams will help get you through. The human spirit doesn't do well in darkness and your dreams of the future are sources of light to help roll back the darkness.

Leroy, you have "carried us" for over a year with your words of encouragement and HOPE. Please draw upon the energy, passion, prayers and power of the many who come each day to your blog to be refueled by your words and spirit. Let us help carry you through these tough times. Let our thoughts and prayers re-ignite your fire to fight the "beast" with everything possible so that NED will once again visit you.

We are with you each day. The power of prayer is an awesome thing.

Blessings and prayers as always.

Sent by Al Cato | 7:08 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, As I read your blog, again I saw myself. This rollercoaster of having treatment and things getting better then only months later to have it come into your life is shocking and takes your breath away. I had my CT scan and found out what mentally I already knew. I think somehow my brain told me that my cancer was returning even if my blood work was coming back good. It is as I was gifted with ESP. When I heard the news I was angry, feeling betrayed by my body. I temporary had a break down and literally went home booked a ticket to Seattle WA, a random city that I had never been to so I could mourn my return to cancer patient from cancer survivor. I walked the unknown city crying and grieving this transition.
I am glad you are getting great treatment, and also glad that you know that you are not alone in this. We wanted you to leave the cancer club, it frankly gave us hope. Hope is something we all hang in there for that one day we can leave the club. I have choosen now to always know I will carry the cancer card, but hope that I can retire it for awhile at times.....but it is like my drivers license..it will be renewed from time to time. Keep your head up and fight on Leroy, It is all we can do. Blessings, Miriam

Sent by Miriam | 7:22 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Please tell me that even though the news was not good you had your cheese steak. In dealing with such a horrible situation, I've found that the little things mean a great deal to me.

I'm not the one with cancer, my husband is, and based on his last scan, he's beginning to dream again. I won't invite trouble, but I am braced for when reality strikes.

You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers. It doesn't make anything better, but it does help.

Sent by Connie Jaeger | 7:33 AM ET | 06-08-2007

My Friend Leroy (if I may be so presumptuous as to call you friend.. because I do feel like you are one)

PLEASE don't give up those thoughts and dreams of the future! Please don't simply "accept this is the rest of your life"!

Of course you have work to do right now to fight this disease with all you have... but never never give up those dreams and thoughts and yes expectations of the future!

You said it yourself... you do NOT know what the future holds... none of us do... so envision it the way YOU want to see it!!

Just a few short months ago you knew nothing of RFA (and neither did many of us)... and poof those tumors were GONE... who knows what can happen next!

If you allow the cancer to consume you... it most assuredly WILL

Yes you have cancer.... yes you have to take medical intervention action... yes it will inhibit what you can do for a while... but don't let the bastard win by simply accepting it!

Beating the disease does NOT equate to life or death... it equates to not allowing it to define who you are.. to not allowing it to consume you

Those thoughts and dreams may change as you go through treatments.. but don't they do that as we grow anyway?

"I guess the hardest part of all this has been to accept that I am what I've been for the last year and a half. A cancer patient."

DO NOT JUST ACCEPT THIS!!

Cancer is NOT who you are!! It is what you are dealing with... it is the current challenge in your life.. it is an opportunity in your life... you choose what to do with that opportunity!

You chose to do this blog and the documentary... and in so doing you CHANGED more lives than you will ever know.... you gave others HOPE... you allowed others to know they too are NOT ALONE in how they feel...

So perhaps your new future is to continue to help others through this blog and other ways you don't even see yet... perhaps you are not done with THIS yet...

But please Leroy.. don't "just accept it"

Sent by Ronald K. Bye | 7:43 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Hi Leroy, Keep positive and keep fighting!!!

Just wanted to tell you what I do to keep fighting: I like to listen to songs with a sort of fighting feel: Like The Grateful Dead's "Touch of Grey" one of lyrics goes like this: "You know the rent is in arrears, The dog hasn't been fed in years, It's even worse than it appears... but IT'S ALRIGHT!!! I will get by.... I will get by...I will get by.... I WILL SURVIVE!!!" It makes me laugh!!!" Or.... Rodney Atkins "If you're going through hell" one lyric: "Sometimes you feel like there's a sign there on your back, says don't care if you kick me seems like everybody has, things go from bad to worse you think they can't get worse than this and then they do!... If you're going through hell, keep on moving, don't back down if your scared don't show it, you might get out before the devil even knows your there!"

No Worries!!! Shirl
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog&friendID=130765777

Sent by Shirley | 7:46 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I'm amazed at how much fight so many of you have left in you - I'm facing my fourth confrontation with "the beast" and I'm just so tired - physically and mentally. And when I look at what I've been through compared to what so many of you have faced and are facing, I think I've had it "easy" and yet here I am feeling like I just don't have it in me anymore.

Bless each and everyone of you - you're an inspiration!

Sent by Vicky (NY) | 7:58 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy,
I will say a few things in introduction. I'm a 37 year old man who is also a paraplegic, and I've had a lot of health problems myself so I have a better partial understanding of what you are going through than I would have as a healthy person. During the last 7 years I've had this this chronic condition of horrendous nausea and fatigue that is always with me, every minute of the night and day. It's very brutal but I might have surgery fairly soon to help alleviate this condition but it keeps getting delayed due to other health problems. Anyway I just include those personal health details to let you know that I understand what it means to really suffer and hopefully it would help you appreciate any of the things I tell you.
I just wanted to share with you some of the things I've learned and experienced during this long period of illness. It's very simple and short. Keep your head up and practice letting go. When you feel fear or anxiety, practice letting it go. When you have you feelings of assurance looking for solutions to your medical problem (or anything else), practice letting go of those emotions. Those tendencies to strive and look for safety and to run away from danger are perfectly normal and they do serve us well of course, but the better we understand them and practice letting go of them the better we can live and thrive while living. How long will we live, Leroy? Will it be until we are 100, or will it be until tomorrow? Its very helpful if we practice throughout the day and night to let go of those dragons, instead of chasing and running away from them so that we can truly live while we are alive.
(I also recommend meditation which can help you do this letting go, which otherwise can be very difficult indeed!)
Good luck!

Sent by Jay | 7:59 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Hi Leroy,

For me one of the hardest things has been my personal lack of control. I'm a planner and a goal maker. Being "A Cancer Patient" takes control of most everything out of your hands. Although I'm still in remission, who knows what my next scan will bring. I hate that waiting for the other shoe to drop feeling. I too, will be dealing with this disease for the rest of my life. That really ticks me off. It was not a part of my plan. While I'm feeling well there are times when none of this feels real.

We'll get through this. I feel that it's up to me to determine whether I go gently into the night or instead rage and fight. (Thanks, Dylan Thomas) I'm gentle with children, pets and loved ones but not with my enemy, cancer. Cancer has asked for a real battle when it came to live in my body.

Sue

Sent by Sue | 8:06 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, you're in my thoughts and prayers as you continue your fight. I truly admire and respect you for sharing your blog and experiences. You're a true inspiration to all of us.

Sent by Brenda Needham | 8:08 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I wonder if we ever get to not be cancer patients. My first post-chemo scan is at the end of the month...I hardly consider myself out of the woods (although my vanity delights at having eyelashes and eyebrows again), but a well-meaning family member felt the need to correct me when I spoke of "having" cancer, insisting that I needed to use the past tense. Still, active tumors or no, when appointments for scans, bloodtests, and port maintainance dot the calendar, I'm still a cancer patient.

I guess that I have to remember that, for now, that title doesn't come first on my resume...I'm a wife, a mom to four young children, a friend, a sister...and a cancer patient. Because surviving is a process.

Thank you so much for your blog, your radio segments, and especially your honesty. You'll be in my prayers as you continue to fight.

Sent by Heather | 8:16 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I was so sorry when I finally had time to read the blog last night. Hang in there. Back to Whack a Mole!

Sent by Dona | 8:22 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Good morning, Leroy:

When you ask yourself how the cancer will impact your career, aren't you asking yourself how you want to spend these days if they are you last? Shouldn't EACH of us live every day as if it were our last? In my career, we must sign a contract in the spring of every year for the next academic year. Since the diagnosis of my metastasis, that contract signing time has given me pause. Will I be here in the Fall? in the Spring? Will I be able to carry out my responsibilities? In my case, my job is also my vocation and I love what I do with a passion. It is how I want to spend my last days. But only if I can still do it well.

This year, my boss (and good friend) called me into her office and said, "Sandra, I have to ask you a question that is a little hard to ask. Will you be back in the Fall?" My answer: "I don't know. I plan to be here, but I just don't really know for CERTAIN. I am an 'iffy' employee, but all the rest of the faculty is, too. The difference is, they just don't know it with the clarity that I do.

So, bottom line for me is: If I can still be productive and if I still enjoy what I do, then I will keep on doing it. Otherwise, I'll pull back and make other decisions. Really, that's no different. As much as I hate 'the beast', I do think cancer is helping me live my life with more wisdom.

Sent by Sandra Shuler | 8:34 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I was so lost for words yesterday when I read your news. I cried for you, I cried for all of us. I hope you are empowered by all of our support as you have empowered us through your vulnerability and honesty, and giving us a space to be just as vulnerable and honest with our thoughts and feelings God bless, LeRoy. My prayers are with you.

Sent by Kay | 8:46 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I'm rooting for you, Leroy. Your story on NPR touched me deeply and I live in your shoes from time to time. As an ovarian cancer survivor (so far), I have far too much to do to be sidelined, yet I am aware that it can happen at any time. You are very strong, very insightful, and probably think too much, as I do. But you've been in this place before and you know you may get the chance to escape again. Certainly, you know it's likely that things will go to a calmer place at some point.
Now, get to work!

Sent by E. Daniel | 9:02 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, You need to take one day at a time. Try to calm down if you can, easy for me to say. I will be going through the same ordeal as you in the very near future. I'm supposed to be cancer free right now, but I have to have a another scan in a couple months to see what's going on, so I know exactly how you feel. My scans are posted on the hospital's website so I can see what was found, and I don't have enough guts to look at this time, I want to enjoy this free feeling for a little while longer. I know that if I look at it, I'll worry to death. My future, like yours, too is based on what the scans show. I'm thinking of retiring if the scans are bad, not that I am ready to do so, but I'm comtemplating it just the same. Take care Leroy.

Sent by Ruth White | 9:09 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, It is so tough stepping back into the tole of cancer patient, the baggage that goes with it so onerous. I have resisted going back to chemo, but know that the week after my nephew's graduation I will have to do it. I feel fine, how can I possibly need it. The scans say different. You (and I and so many others) will find that we can do that cancer patient dance yet again. We humans have a remarkable capacity to adapt; where does that strength come from? You will be in my thoughts. You have such a circle of friends out here rooting for you! I hope that as you do your work, you can draw strenth from that.

Sent by Linda Newson | 9:20 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, I went back and was reading all the old blogs. It is amazing how much love and support you have out there. It is awesome and I hope it helps you to get out of bed each morning and fight the beast within....
I hope all of you realize the love and support you give everyone that reads this blog...all these blogs give me strength each day to help my fiance fight his own cancer battle....Thank you all!

Sent by Laurie | 9:29 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,
You (we) need to feel free to breathe when the news is good and have our breath taken away when the news is bad. You (we) have our future; one cancer-free, cancer-"controlled" day at a time. Within that day which is colored by cancer, we are still human. We dream or we're p!@@#d-off just like every other human. Do what feels right today with the hope of breathing again tomorrow ... in spite of the beast.

Sent by Lorraine | 9:31 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, you are in my thoughts and prayers-- and I'm sure those of a couple of zillion other readers of your blog. Your eloquent writings about the emotional roller coaster so many of us ride in living with cancer have been a source of comfort and insight about my own struggles to live with the beast. You've helped me to understand that while I may have checked into the "Hotel Melanoma" (I can check out any time I like but I can never leave)I can still do my ever living best to make the most of my stay. Take care, and go get those boys zapped.

Sent by Rich McDonald | 9:32 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, your blog is a critical part of the present and future for many of us. It is a vital part of my daily routine and I thank you for your courage and determination to write daily, even when I know it is difficult.
I am in month 3 of chemo for colon cancer and have not yet felt well enough to return to work. Other than reading email and some telecons, I have been on the sidelines, also wondering about my professional future. I am only 51 and I do enjoy working as an engineer, but it will never hold the same passion for me as it once did. Fortunately, I have a job waiting for me, so the transition should be smooth. But what about the future? Do I take on more responsibility, knowing that I am only a bad scan away from more sessions with the beast within? I am struggling with this question daily.

Again, I will have to lean on a 'higher authority' and try for some guidance from prayer and emphathetic friends.

Leroy, you are an incredible friend to all of us. Keep the faith and know that we are in this struggle with you.

Sent by Lou Loggi | 9:35 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, you sound more then a little down today. I hope your making sure to take care of your mental state as well. We all know how crushing this news is, but you have to try and keep your head on straight. Depression kills.

Good Luck, get back on that horse, and this time go for the full ride.

Sent by Brit | 9:35 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, I am so sorry about the turn of events. When reading the blog I can feel your sadness. On the blog this morning, you wrote about the things you want to accomplish. Well I want to tell you something from my heart........What you have accomplished by writing this blog for one year, people have not accomplished in a lifetime. The blog speaks for itself. Love and prayers always, sasha.

Sent by sasha | 9:43 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy-When I read your blog, my heart began to ache. I am so sorry for the news you received. Of course it is the news we all dread, deny, reject yet are always aware it could be ours in the blink of an eye. I will keep positive thoughts for you every day, and yes, even pray for this awful beast to be forever slain. Fondly, Judy

Sent by Judy Kolbaba | 9:44 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,
Yesterday morning before it was light I read your message. I could hardly wait to get to the computor to find out your results, hopeing and praying that the results would be good. I really felt deflated as if the results were my own. I could not even leave a comment though I wanted to. My thoughts were with you all day yesterday and in the middle of the night reread your message and the comments of so many other supporters and friends of yours. This is a battle that so many people are with you in. You said I look the same. I can relate to that. To look and feel the same but to know that there is something terrible inside going on is really hard. But we have to go forward. Please draw some comfort in knowing that you have so many people walking with you. You have given so much strength to others, now use some of ours. We all will be walking the battle with you on this. My prayers and thoughts will be with you. Stay strong as you can.

Jerry

Sent by jerry morris | 9:51 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I read your blog everyday, I guess I've made it a very personal thing in my life. Too many of my friends and family have dealt with what you are going through. I do not have cancer (although it might be a case of I do and just don't know it YET), but having lived with it through others, your situation is extremely personal to me. I'm aware that you know what you are in for in the next few months, but I do hope that your treatment will put you in remission for a while at least so you can start thinking about your future again. My heart and prayers are with you and just keep on chugging along. Remember the beaches of Hawaii!

Sent by Linda | 9:53 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Hi Leroy, may God wrap His loving arms around you. Please don't let cancer define who you are. All of us that read your blog have an idea what you are going through and your daily letter is SO helpful to all of us and our families. That is the person we know, not just Leroy with cancer. I hate cancer.

Take care Leroy. We enjoy your company.

Judy

Sent by Judy Voller | 9:54 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy: I've been away from your blog for about a month now...just couldn't read any more about cancer anywhere, for a while...but something told me to check today. We are so sorry about your news. My husband, Burge, is still here and spending two to three days every other week in a local, small town hospital taking on fluids and building up the strength to go on. It's so different than the big Cancer center...almost peaceful to be away from the crowd.

We can appreciate the things you will be going through over the next months and in a way, we are the lucky ones. Our fight has changed from one of action and high stress, to one of resignation. There are days I want so bad to be able to wish "it were all over", but when I do, I will have lost my only love, so I keep going.

I can only wonder how Burge feels knowing that his day will be another filled with pain, his own thoughts and sometimes hopelessness, so mostly, he just sleeps.

I guess this long goodbye (3 years) has done some good. In the past few months, he has been able to see his 22 year old son take over he place as head of the family and face the pressures of farming with it's high fuel prices and weather and yet, find a last minute market for the hay...Burge now knows, "He'll do alright." He has also seen his youngest pass from the 8th grade, and grow taller than his Mom...a much wished for goal of a 14 year old and know he too, will be alright. Appreantly, he has always felt that I'll be OK, but some times I wonder. I guess death by cancer has it's advantages over some other ways to go, but some times those advantages are hard to take.

We wish you well, and will be back to your blog when ever we can. Treasure your "break", you deserved the time, and know your are loved and appreciated.

Sent by Nikki Schwerdfeger | 10:18 AM ET | 06-08-2007

I am so sorry. Try to remember - you may be a cancer patient, but you are so much more to all of us. My heart is filled with sorrow for you, but it is on the verge of bursting with the hope I have as well. For now - just take care of yourself. The rest will come to you, one step at a time.

Sent by Marcia | 10:20 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, I know it's a hard reality to accept. I've been fighting cancer for ten years. The other day I broke down and cried at the doctors. I told him I was so emotionally tired because the good news is I'm still here after ten years but the bad news is I'm still doing this after ten years. And at that moment I knew I had to accept that I'd always be in the loop, whether it's remission or active disease, we're in the loop. I just try to find a life around it, and somehow I do.

Kate

Sent by Kate Fuehrer | 10:21 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy- your blog from a week ago wasn't silly, it was just hopeful. It's ok to dream and hope for a great outcome. It's ok....... and never stop.

Sent by DiAnn | 10:22 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy -

Oh how I feel for you and understand all are are going through. When I got the call the after 4 years of being in remission that I had breast cancer again, I was crushed. I was actually at 4 years and 9 months when the call came so I was planning a celebration for my 5 year anniversary! I will never forget that call. I have learned to live a new normal now. Never have the cancer very far from my thoughts but still living life to the fullest. It just seems sometimes like this crazy world of cancer hits us all. Last week a former employee of mine died at the age of 32 from leukemia leaving behind a 13 year old son that was her pride and joy! Then my father in law lost his courageous and miraculous battle with lung cancer. He was diagnosed 5 years ago at stage 4 and given 6 months and he lived another 5 years that were remarkably painless!

Please know that you continue to stay in my thoughts and prayers and that your story and this blog inspire me every day. As a three time cancer survivor - I just am thankful for every day I get. Oh to be a real normal again!

All my best -

Andi

Sent by Andi Arabak | 10:26 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dearest Leroy,
I was so sorry & sad to hear about your scan report. I know the feelings you go through as I have had 2 different reports after the initial Dx. Each time
I rec'd a dissolved report, I hoped it was the end of the battle. Then another
report showed another tumor. Fought that round. Then last PET scan showed mets to lung & spine. I have pancreatic
cancer. I am still fighting the latter battle with a stronger combo of chemo.
I will have a repeat scan at the end of this month, so I will anxiously await that time.
On May 19 I had a heart attack. On June
14 I will have a heart catherization & possible stents. I am hopeful this will help with my blood counts coming up, so I can rec. the chemo more often.
In all my rambling, I want to say to you
to KEEP UP THE FIGHT!!! Our battles may be different ones, but we draw strength
& hope from one another. Just being able to read/comment on this blog lets me know I am not alone. Also going to oncology, I know I am not alone.
You are in my thoughts & prayers for
comfort & strength during this time.
Love in Christ,
Jean Trobaugh
Ada, Okla

Sent by Jean Trobaugh | 10:32 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Keeping the beast at bay is the best we can hope for. This goes through my mind over and over. Hoping that something new in will come along in time before the cancer gets beyond medical control.
I think this battle with cancer will be win when we combine our global efforts in chemotherapy, imunotherapy, nanotechnology, and stem cell therapy. No one therapy will be the cure all in my mind.

Leroy,
Yes, this does make your future plans a mystery, but didn't the past few month feel good? Hope is all we have a cancer patient.

I try to stay focused on quality of life over quantity and hope for the best.

Sent by Kris Worrall | 10:34 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy
This disease sucks!! It does not discriminate either, it hits anyone.
I think you have not slowed down in what you do, you write the news about a war, a war that hits so many people.
The first thing in the morning is to turn on my computer and read your blog. It is my morning prayer. And like you said, you know your not alone. It is like we are in this exclusive fellowship and we are rooting for one another. Healing energy is on it's way. More will be revealed
Peg

Sent by Peg Heglund | 10:37 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, I am so sorry your scan results were not good. I am happy you got some vacation time (as if there is really ever a vacation from cancer!). I indulged in some maybe-I-do-still-have-a-future daydreaming about a month ago. Maybe those daydreams are the only real vacations. Reality is so hard, sometimes. It's amazing we're still sane! Nancy-stage IV melanoma

Sent by Nancy | 10:37 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Larry,

I was NED for 9 months. Then there were mets just when I thought I was one of the "lucky ones." So sorry to hear the news.

Janice diag 7/2004 stage IV colon cancer

Sent by Janice Eklund | 11:06 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Your green dots -- a way of being marked for healing -- a personal constellation over your heart... your explorations always break the ice for others to face their own questions. We are all indebted to you for the sharing you continue to be willing to do. And I hope that you keep private whatever is helpful to you to draw a curtain over what you feel is personal. Your wholeness, your joy, your filling your time with what you most want to be doing are among my wishes today and every day. I wish the same for all who read this blog. Onward! with open hearts!

Sent by Sarah | 11:16 AM ET | 06-08-2007

y, It is work, every single day, it is work. I have the dream, as all of us do, to be normal again, but that appears a distant goal. Maybe I'll never get there, but you have to continue to dream. The news was not good, but you have good people around you, and a good medical team, they will prevail. This battle never ends, it just never ends. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 11:30 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy,
I just read about your scan results. I am so sorry! You are in my prayers. Cancer really does suck!! I have some tests in a week or so to see whether I am NED or still have the beast atively in me. I know I still have those nasty little cells that can't be seen yet. My daughter has one more week of chemo and radiation before getting a vacation break.
Thanks for sharing your life and experience with us. Writing is such a wonderful gift and I am grateful that you share your gift with us!
Well, I have to get out and plant some vines and roses for my daughter so will say goodbye for today.
Keep up the good fight!!
Charlotte

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 11:31 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Accepting that you are "what you've been for the past year and a half -- a cancer patient" doesn't have to mean giving up hopes or dreams. I know - you're an intelligent man and you know the odds of survival aren't good. And right now, with good reason, you must be feeling terribly discouraged. But before the "silly blog" you refer to, there (That damned roller coaster!) The thing is, even if you're just able to live one day at a time, you can still have hope and you can have achievements. And you do! You are NOT just "a cancer patient."

As for long-term professional goals, well, nobody really knows (not even healthy people) whether they'll be around in the future. Maybe you'll have to let some of those plans go or modify them. That's hard to swallow, I guess. But I hope that once you get through this next battle, you'll reach a place where you can reevaluate and find new goals. Hang in there, Leroy,

Sent by Doris | 11:38 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy-I'm not quite in your shoes and I'm happy about that. But on the same day you had your results, I had my first tatooing. Laying there in the CT scan for 15 minutes with 5 staff people hiding behind the glass calculating where they are going to zap me erased the little bit of denial I had about who I was. I keep thinking of my breast cancer as a bump in the road and it very well may be. But on Wednesday I felt very much like a cancer pt. I've been working so hard to remain as normal as possible. I'm thinking of you daily.

Sent by Lisa | 11:49 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy-
I am so sad to hear your news. I was hoping that your scans would be clear and sadened to read this morning that they were not.

Before a few months ago, I had no idea who you were. After watching your show on t.v. you sparked something within me. I don't know you, yet I check everyday on your progress. I have meet people through you. I have laughed at your humor. You have done such an incredible thing just by being yourself and sharing that with the world. I am sure a lot of people agree you are someone we have never actually met in person, but we will remember the rest of our lives.

I do hope that you were able to go and get the sandwich that you so craved after your appointment.

Again- I am sorry to hear of your news.

Sent by April | 11:56 AM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy:

I'm impressed by your tattoos... (we don't tattoo where I work)

All joking aside, I hope you don't ever lose hope, and have time to 'clear your head' of what you still and will be able to accomplish in the future..

I just hope you realize, that in the time period that you started your blog--and were brave enough to let us all inside your journey, that you have touched thousands, if not millions of people throughout the world.. whether they themselves face cancer, or are caretakers, physicians, or just people who are interested in your journey.

In the bigger picture Leroy, you have changed the world, on a large scale--which I'm so proud of you for doing--and grateful.

I know some of the people at the place you'll be getting your XRT treatments.. I know they will be good to you, and I hope your damn tumor responds to the therapy.

Please let me know if there is anything you need.

Be Well My Friend.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 12:21 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Hi Leroy, you are so wonderful at saying outloud what I have been thinking for so long. I try to forget about being a cancer person, but everytime I do it comes back full speed to remind me once again, kind of like laughing in my face. And I keep making the same mistake over and over, forgetting and then having it come back. Part of my "fight against it" is to have those moments where I forget so I can deal with the rest of my life. The rest of life with problems and challenges keeps coming up and sometimes I feel like saying to those around me, isn't the cancer enough?? I guess though one of the things that keeps me fighting is all the other stuff I have to deal with. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. The only comfort I get out of treatment is the fact that I am actively doing something to fight the cancer, as you are starting to do again. I go back for my scans on the 23rd and I am terrified as usual, thinking of you often, Estelle

Sent by Estelle | 12:35 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,

Today I am feeling a bit up---because I just finished chemo for melanoma and finally FEEL like eating and that I won't throw it up. I lost 7 pounds in 4 days from not being able to keep my lunch down! Yet, reading your news gives me that feeling in my stomach. I dislike hearing bad news about friends (I may be taking liberties here, but I feel like I know you)---even though we somewhat expected this news for you. A part of it is my wish for you to be healthy as long as possible. Part of it is a feeling that "What if MY chemo doesn't work to eradicate MY cancer?"

Frustrating to me that your tumors have multiplied and grown. Most of it is that with your victories, I have a chance to beat this damn disease. Not your fault at all, I still feel pretty good about myself...but as the wristband I just ordered says "CANCER SUCKS"!

Know that we are all in this with you, some more intimately than others, all of us sending our love and prayers. As one of my clergy told me when my cancer diagnosis occurred "You are not alone in this", which as you said, makes a world of difference.

Trish

Sent by Trish | 12:39 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,

The blog is busy today. My third attempt to post. I echo everything that everyone has said, but want to add that when you think of contributions you might yet make and whether you will be able to or not, please don't forget the one you are making right now.

You are helping many, many people get through their struggle by sharing your own. That is a very generous and loving thing to do. Personally, I can't think of anything else you might do that would be more important.

Meanwhile, go get 'em.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 1:42 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,
I was saddened whan I read your latest entry. I really admire and respect you for sharing everthing with us. You have the ability in your writing to make me feel as if I know you - this goes back to your daily Nightline e-mails.
I've got a 8 y/o son who's a cancer patient with a brain tumor and can relate to the feeling knowing the results of the scans are not good - it's happened to us twice. Things will be ok...even if they're not ok. I'm thinking of you.

Sent by Jeff Brauns | 1:42 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, I'm sure this must be very discouraging to you and your family. I am a Harvard doctor and a cancer survivor. In my book, After Cancer Treatment: Heal Faster, Better, Stronger, I have an entire chapter dedicated to handling setbacks and plateaus. I'm very interested in understanding more about how survivors are able to cope. Thus, I am working on a book with the American Cancer Society called What Helped Get Me Through. I'd love to hear from you and other survivors about what really made a difference. The point of this project is to hear from survivors themselves what really helped. You can find out more about this by going to the website: www.whathelpedgetmethrough.org

Sent by Julie Silver, MD | 1:44 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy,

I am so sorry that your cancer has reared it's ugly head again. I wish I had some magic words that would somehow make you feel better.

A recurrence of our cancer is a fear that all of us as cancer patients fear every single day. If we are lucky enough to go a few months or even years with a recurrence, cancer can take on a smaller part of our everyday lives BUT in my experience the fear never goes away. There are always the "scans", check-ups, biopsy's and such that remind us that the beast could return whenever it pleases. Only people that have done the battle can understand that.

I wish you peace as you try and accept your latest battle and the strength to fight the good fight.

Have a Mai Tai and pretend you are looking at that vast ocean you just came from on your vacation and remember that NED also stands for NOT EVIDENTLY DEAD. You will survive this, we need you.

Debbie LaPonsa
Vulvar Melanoma Survivor

Sent by Debbie LaPonsa | 2:15 PM ET | 06-08-2007

{{{{{{{{{Leroy}}}}}}}}}
I read that it was back from my pda last night before sleeping. I am so sad. I so wanted the beast to go back into hiding for a good long while. Maybe let you take a couple of vacations.

Our expectations in this day and age are that we will live to be 75, maybe even 95. At the turn of the 20th century the life expectancy for a woman was 40 years. Not sure what it was for a man. But something else got us before cancer had a chance to arrive, in most cases.

What you have now beats the alternative. RFA has given you a reprieve.

And I won't say I'm praying for you, because that would mean that barring deus ex machina, there's nothing to be done. I'm praying for your doctors though...and medical science in general.

Hugs,
Alycia

Sent by Alycia Keating | 2:34 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy, I often try to help patients regain some sense of control, be it managing their anxiety or just getting through their daily routine. One method is through creative visualization. I hope you, my friend, will be able to close your eyes and see the Hawaiian waters, smell the scents and taste those mai tai's as you continue on your journey. May blessings abound to you and all of you who are on your own journey. I am sending you strength

Sent by Karen | 2:35 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Don't stop making plans for the future. Those events on your calendar in months and years ahead can give you the strength to keep fighting. I for one intend to see all of the NFL 2008 season, even though my doctors say August will be the end. Don't believe that hype. ok

Sent by Brian Bordelon | 4:06 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy--I went home yesterday from work completely drained. When my husband came home, the first thing I told him was about your cancer recurring. I cried for you...I cried for all of us. While you have been in the journey for quite some time, I am beginning it. I, first and foremost, am always hopeful that treatment will work...but there is always a small voice in my head saying, "don't get so comfortable; it is still lurking in there somewhere." Some have told me that's negative, I say it's the truth. I think the hardest part for me is not knowing what's going on inside my body. I do know that the cancer hasn't spread to my lungs or bones, but that's all I know. I'm scared of treatment. I'm scared for myself, but more so, for my husband and my daughter. I'm scared for my Mother, who has been my strength through this ordeal, but I know she is terrified at the thought of losing her daughter. I still don't know if we've faced the reality that this is a lifetime battle. I don't know if it's REALLY sunk in that I have cancer...how can I have cancer??? If I'm really honest, I'm angry. I'm angry that my body has decided to turn on me. I wonder, is it something I did or was I just predisposed for this disease? I'm angry that I don't really have anyone to blame for this...does that make sense? And I'm so angry and hurt that your cancer is back... You have touched my life in more ways that you'll ever know. This blog has saved my sanity. As always, Leroy, you'll be in my thoughts and prayers!

Stay strong...we all need you!!!

With love!!! XOXO

Sent by Tess from KY | 4:22 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Mr. Sievers, I read your blog today with great disappointment and sadness. I am right where you were at: feeling normalcy again after months of chemo, radiation, surgery, etc., etc. for breast cancer. I wondered how hard it was for you to write this entry, having to face squarely the fears once again. I thank you for doing so. So often, it???s the elephant in the room. Your openness shows the way to the rest of us and gives us courage. I pray that you keep the beast at bay. Sincerely, Jan Scholl

Sent by Jan Scholl | 4:27 PM ET | 06-08-2007

I'm just getting ready to leave the house to participate in my first Relay for Life, which I mentioned in an earlier post this week. I'll be bringing thoughts of the entire "Living With Cancer" blog community. We have to keep up the full court press to fund those researchers in the basements!!

Sent by Sheara | 4:47 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, I'm so sorry to hear that the darn cancer is back....you're
in my thoughts daily. Keep up your good spirits and know that many,
many people are wishing you all the best! Sincerely, Carole Mills
(Stage III ovarian cancer "survivor!")

Sent by Carole Mills | 5:29 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Well, you can do this, Leroy; we all can, in our way. I am thinking about your question--do we ever stop being cancer patients?

Actually, today I underwent minor eye surgery to remove a growth on the left eye. The eye surgeon said, "there is a less than five percent chance it could be a basal cell carcinoma." And my heart sank and that numb resignation flurried upwards.

Although it has been seven years since my diagnosis of Stage III rectal cancer and there are times when I forget, there is never a time when I will stop being a cancer patient. Every six months it is time for a checkup and blood tests; every four-six months it is time to visit my integrative wellness doctor; every year it is time for a sigmoidoscope and every two-three years it is time for a colonoscopy. I mark my months by doctor visits.

I appreciate each daily lifetime; I have lived many of them and hopefully, I will continue. And if the cancer manifests again or arrives newly formed, I will fight and come to the continual beginning.

Are you at Johns Hopkins? I will be there June 21-22 posterboard presenting at their CAM Symposium: Evidence Based Medicine. My presentation, of course, deals with cancer and communication.

In Healing,
Deborah

Sent by Deborah J. | 5:43 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,
I was so sad to read about your scans, but you fought hard before and you will fight hard this time too. This is my first round with cancer, 4 months now. I have felt from the beginning that I would never give up the fight. Everyday I picture myself without cancer doing all the things I did before cancer came into my life. Always picture youself in the future, all of your dreams are possible, you just have to fight to get there. We will be on the journey with you, as you are with us.

Sent by Chris Fitzgerald | 5:51 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy,
Nothing you have done is a waste. Just look at the response to your blog. You have helped so many by expressing your feelings that we all share in some way. I pray that you will continue to do so as you are very special to us all. As I thank God for my blessings you are included.

Sent by Vicki (FL) | 5:52 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, Though I am still undergoing through my chemo treatments, I was so inspired by your trip to Hawaii that I booked a flight to Europe for my husband and me between treatments and with my oncologist's blessing. Today we were returned and the first thing I checked was your blog. Your news broke my heart and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to write during a time that must be so difficult for you and your partner. You keep me going, Leroy, and I hope that you get something back from our posts. Know that you and Lori are in my prayers. I think we would all understand if you discontinued your blog, though selfishly, I hope you don't. What is it,Leroy, that we can do for you to help give you strength and encouragement and to lighten your load?

Sent by Ellie Algatt | 6:08 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Ah Leroy, I'm sorry to read this and your previous post. It's hard to get this kind of news. You are in my thoughts. I'm kind of at a loss for words, which is odd for me, as I'm normally somewhat of a blabbermouth. Your outlook on life will help see you through all of this. And you have a huge support system here.

Take care, friend.

Sent by Lisa Lindstrom | 6:46 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, I've read almost all the responses to today's entry and the one's that stuck were those that mentioned your undertone of sadness. Leroy, it is OK with every single person who reads you daily for you to take some time off from writing your blog, or for you to stop writing it altogether. And if it isn't, it should be. We, who benefit from your daily selfless effort, need to get a grip and to think about you and what you're going through and how difficult it must be FOR YOU, especially now, to keep on with this blog no matter how much we look forward to it, need it, rely on it, or whatever else. It just hit me as I was reading that we sound like a bunch of vampires! Gee, can we give the guy a break? We all mean so well and love you so much, and that means letting you go. It's gotta be tough to do this every day, for crying out loud. It's got to be a burden and you don't need any extra weight right now from a bunch of well-meaning, but yes, selfish readers. It's time for all of us to say that we release you from it.

Sent by Faith | 6:50 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy
I am sorry for your set back, the fight goes on. We are all in your cornor. In Sept I have my scans...we all know that feeling. My prayers are with you, and all of us. God bless, keep strong. ellie

Sent by ellie wingerson | 6:53 PM ET | 06-08-2007

What i keep telling myself lately, is that if i can hang on and keep going after the cancer, that maybe if it comes back later, the medical field will be able to fight it better, that theres going to be some sort of cure or treatment that beats whats going on now, and it will be so much better for the long term. I keep hearing about ultraviolet therapies, whats next?
so, just hang on and maybe one day you CAN say that you dont have to fight this cancer for the rest of your life, just for right now.

Sent by Jenn | 7:20 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,
The people that I heve met that have lived for a long time with mets go through cycles of treatment and NED. The hope is that the NED is longer than the treatments. I haven't had any NED since my mets but I am holding out hope. Just the fact that you were NED once gives me hope that you will see it again. Our hopes and dreams will get us through the pain of the treatments.

When I start to get down about how young I will be when I die or how short my remaining time will be, I try to think of the less fortunate. (yes things could be worse). What about those who die quickly from accidents, murder or other tragedys. Atleast we have some time to prepare in what ever way we decide to.

Jill
http://myspacejill.blogspot.com/

Sent by Jill | 7:39 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear LeRoy,

I wrote today that I am so tired of fighting I am ready to give up. I couldn't believe those words ended up on the screen, but they did, and it shocked me to know I have become so discouraged. Then, after re-reading your blogs for the 5th or 6th time today, trying to find hope, I said to myself, if LeRoy can do this, so can I. I have never backed down from a challenge in my life. So thank you for helping me through one more day by sharing your message of hope.

I am still trying to find medical assistance. Insurance is not the problem, but I am a complicated patient, and I frighten doctors when they open my chart and start to read,I can see it in their eyes when they start to glaze over about paragraph #2. This is not my imagination, my pain management physician has been a life long friend, as well as my doctor, and he said that is most of the problem. And the communication between physicians here is not good at all, I am afraid. Just to get someone to call another is a major miracle, and then for them to get the story straight,
when they do not quite understand it themselves, is another one.

I have been living since February 2006, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, in a cloud of questions that have never been answered. The primary question is whether or not they got all the cancer to begin with, and my misfortune has been that there has not been anyone with enough courage to follow through and study my case enough to find out. My surgeon's last words to me were "Oops, I think I might have made a mistake and didn't get all your cancer"! I have been living with that thought since June 2006, and after seeing many more physicians, have gotten no further, except to have it confirmed I am very ill.

So I sit and cry and wonder what is going on inside my body, and know the labs and xrays are abnormal, but cannot get any answers. I just fear the cancer is being given more time to thrive in fertile ground as more and more time goes by.

My story is long, complicated and not pretty, but the bottom line is you gave me the hope to continue for another day, and I thank you for that. If you ever question your worth or value, please remember you saved another life today.

I am sorry for your news, of course, and I do not want to be redundant, but believe me, I understand how you feel.
I will hope to continue to have hope, at least until tomorrow, and then I will try to do it again.

Thank you for your message and your time and understanding in listening to my plight. We must stick together.

Love,
Briana

Sent by briana | 7:52 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Leroy,
This is my first post. My heart aches for you. I think although we face the reality that the cancer very well may show back up, we have this little part of us that says "maybe, just maybe not". I have been told many things since my diagnosis; however, one thing really stuck with me. Someone said that having cancer was like a terrorist holding a gun to your head saying I may kill you, I may not. That makes friends and loved ones very uncomfortable, but says it all to me.

Sent by Patsy | 8:48 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Hi, Leroy.

I am so sorry to learn of your test results. I've spent the past couple of days trying to frame a reply. I can well imagine what must be that palpable combination of disappointment, resignation, and the "let's get on with it so we can move on" attitude. I went through the same thing last month, when I learned that my formerly stable metastatic disease is now "worsening." For me I think the worst part was the germ of hope that grew during each 3-month visit in 2006, that maybe I and my family were finally done with this. Well, we're not and I guess we won't ever be. I'll always be a cancer patient. For now, it's manageable and chronic, for which I am grateful. Every day is a gift. Leroy, *you* are a gift. Nothing you write is silly; you capture your moments and share them in a way that not only verbalizes what so many of us are feeling and experiencing, it is healing as well. I thank you for that and for creating this place where we can all be ourselves and not have to fake it. What we all have to deal with sucks, but it's how we deal with it and what we do with it that counts. You are doing more than you will ever know. You are in my thoughts and prayers daily, Leroy. We are all in this together.

Sent by Erica | 10:39 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Hi Leroy,
I just found your blog after watching the very insightful "Living with Cancer." You express many of the feelings I have had about my cancer and I'm very happy to have discovered your work. It gives me great solace. I'm sorry to hear about your reoccurrence but keep fighting! We need you with us.

Sent by Mary Danehower | 10:49 PM ET | 06-08-2007

Dear Leroy, my new friend:

Somehow you???ve become my friend without even knowing me ??? or do you? So often your words mirror my thoughts. My heart goes out to you today and everyday!

I am a colon cancer ???survivor' -- I think. I had surgery May 1, 2006 and finished my tour of chemo in November. So far, so good! I tell myself it's over and that we got every nasty little cell floating around inside me. Then I send a silent pray to God that I'm right.

I am sorry that you heard the words we all fear. I know that you will move beyond the setback and get the job done! You are clearly a strong man and willing to fight the fight! There are so many of us sending you our support!

Please know that I???m reading your blog everyday and keeping you in my thoughts. What you???re doing is so very important to so many of us! Bless your little heart!

Rhonda

Sent by Rhonda Howard | 11:28 PM ET | 06-08-2007

I remember my sister coming to take care of me after by Breast Cancer Dx, I didnt want to do the chemo. I sobbed wailed and cried. She said you can kick scream and cry all you want to your doing the treatment. And I did, I love my sister. Do you want to talk to my sister?

Sent by Evonne McConkey | 12:04 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy,

I am so sorry that you have to go through this again. I really know how you feel. I too have come to the conclusion that I will always be a cancer patient. I still, however, hang on to that glimmer of hope that I will never have to go through it again. Only God knows what is ahead for us. In the mean time, I am getting my body in shape. I feel that this is my way of fighting the cancer and if it rears it's ugly head again, I will be fit for a fight. You are in my prayers.

Sent by Betty in Germany | 3:55 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Hi Leroy,
I do hope that you had TWO cheese steak sandwiches. One for me! I was holding my breath that all would be well with you The odds aren't with me and I have to wonder why is it me........rather than you or someone else. There are so many others more worthy, the young, those with children, but instead at this point its me. I thought maybe my good thoughts and prayers might help you. It wasn't to be this time, but that doesn't mean that they won't be going out to you. Perhaps the next time! As so many have said, you are special in your ability to put into words what so many of us think. I do need you to continue doing that.

Sent by joane | 6:44 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Dear Leroy, I read your last posts and realized that the key to living, life with or without cancer, is hope. I am so hopeful for you. Keep your dreams and hope in this struggle. And of course kill the beast. Get new green dots (post-modernist tattoos). We are with you in this.

Sent by Pat | 8:00 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Dear Leroy,

I wish I had the right words to comfort you but I do not. I think an earlier post from Al Cato pretty much affirmed what I believe..."the power of prayer is awesome."

I will continue to lift you, your family and everyone on this blog site up in prayer.

May God comfort you and offer you a measure of peace.

Sent by Gloria Lovett | 8:11 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy,
My prayers go out for you and your future.
Just had my 2 year check and the doctor's said everything was ok. Can they be so sure - I don't know there is always that small doubt that lingers in my mind. Your words are such an inspiration to be and also the words of those that have commented to your recent blog. Guess I didn't realize there were so many of us out there that share the same thoughts, hopes, prayers and determination.

Sent by Lois (Check, VA) | 8:36 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Every one of us has just this one moment. None of us can claim we own the next. I don't want to waste the moments I have dreading or even wishing for the ones I don't. That does take practice. But this advice is not just for "cancer patients" it is for all of us. As mortal human beings we all know there is a limited amount of time we are here and none of us know which moment is our last. May we all fully enjoy our NOW.
Leroy, I appreciate your place in my current moment.

Sent by Sandra Li | 9:11 AM ET | 06-09-2007

In my everyday experiences as a "provider" and as a "person" I am constantly reminded that there is a big difference between "being alive" and "living" --- When death comes for me--as it will for all of us--I hope it finds me LIVING.

Sent by S. Carrier MD | 9:29 AM ET | 06-09-2007

There's really nothing more to add to all these posts, is there. Only that I want you to know I'm sad for you and Lori, and I'm intensely sorry for the ugly news.

Faith encouraged you to stop writing your blog if you need to. Another respondant called us all vampires for wanting you to continue. Here's what I think.

Cancer steals from us, from many of us, our old lives, especially our professional lives. I haven't worked for more than a year, and wonder if I'll ever go back to being that capable problem solver. What you've done, though, is take what you've been handed, this heinous disease, and you've made something new and incredible from it. This new "work" you do is extraordinary. Who can really point to their work every day and see how many people it truly effects?

But if you're sick of it, stop it for heaven's sake. But if it's good for you, then by all means keep going.

Just think of this. That you could write about something that all of us fear intensely ourselves, all of us live in dread will happen to us, yet we're all here reading about your re-occurance with love and sadness and continued support. That's quite an accomplishment, Leroy, all on its own.

And I love the new meaning someone gave to NED -- not evidently dead. Pretty dang funny. That sicko cancer humor that I love. We just don't make enough jokes about cancer.

Love, prayers and, let's see, patience to you Leroy. I am so sorry this cursed beast has reared it's head again.

Sent by Jordis | 9:32 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy,

You are not a cancer patient. You are Leroy, who just happens to have cancer.

I keep reminding myself of something similar (that I am Carl, who just happens to have cancer), as I look ahead to my own lymph-node biopsy in a few weeks, that could declare my non-Hodgkin lymphoma to have relapsed.

Somebody upstream wrote, "DO NOT JUST ACCEPT THIS!!" I beg to differ. When news like this comes along, we do have to accept it (the alternative is denial - an understandable, short-term defense mechanism, but one which gets us nowhere in the long run).

Yes, we do have to accept it, hard as it may be. But we don't have to let that act of acceptance define us.

Keep the faith.

"A Pastor's Cancer Diary"
http://www.cewilton.blogspot.com

Sent by Carl Wilton | 9:40 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Dang it!! Beat the heck out of your drums and set a pace for yourself to keep moving forward. You have come so far since getting your first diagnosis - I'm sure there is another long road around this current bend.

Keep marching....for all of us as well.

Sent by Sara (MD) | 10:34 AM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy,
Thank you for your work on this blog. One of the things I thought when I first started reading it was, how brave!, to commit to such a project, and my heart quailed at the prospect of the difficult times, which had to come. Your willingness to write through the difficult times has schooled that same heart toward courage. I think the community that has gathered around your writing gathered because of that brave honesty. We know what we need, and you helped us find our way toward it.
My husband and I are sending some of that courage back to you now in the face of this week's lousy news.
When my husband was diagnosed over two years ago (stage IV lung cancer), his five adult kids and one new son-in-law all came from around the world at the same time to grieve, plan, laugh, drink wine, ask questions with us. We wanted to DO something, something concrete, something that made visible our connection. So, we designed a tattoo.
None of us (but one) was really a tattoo "type", if there is such a thing, and we did look a little out of our element when we went to Saint Sabrina's Tattoo Parlor the next day.
Each person tweaked the design a little bit, enlarging or embellishing or diminishing it according to taste, and we chose carefully where to be tattooed. Should it show? Should it show all the time, or just in the summer? Where will it hurt the least?
Two years later, those tattoos remain a sign of the power of our family's willingness to be together in the dark times a cancer diagnosis can bring.
Leroy, we think of you every day.

Sent by Ceese Stickles | 12:32 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Hi Leroy
I am sorry to hear that cancer has reared it's ugly head. You are like most of us and the thought stayed in the back of your mind that this was a possibility, but it does not make it the least bit easier to process when they give you the news. Keep your chin up, vent all you want to us, we can honestly say we understand.

Sent by Cheryl | 12:42 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy, paddling along with you in the same boat...further mets after months of happy stability...one of the things that sustains me is that phrase from Leonard Cohen's "Anthem": "Ring the bells that still can ring; there is a crack in everything.That's how the light gets in.".....Your blog and all you bloggers out there have become an important part of my life....It surely is a valuable legacy of yours, Leroy. Thanks. Anne C.

Sent by Anne C. | 1:24 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Dear Leroy, I am so disheartened by your news. Please take care of yourself...your strength and determination are the things that will get you through this. You are in my prayers...

Sent by Daria Wilber | 1:43 PM ET | 06-09-2007

One thing I have learned in dealing with cancer for ten years, is..that its a chronic illness. One that we always stay on top and deal with when we need to.
I hated being referred to as a cancer patient.We are so much more then that. I refuse to think thats all you are Leroy. Your a kind and awesome writer who has been the voice for so many of us out here. Yes your a cancer patient, but thats a speck of who you are... I see so much more then that. Its a bond that brings us here. But truefully whats in side of you brings us all back daily.
Cancer sucks but its in the cards we are dealt. One thing it can't do is suck up the life we have left.We need to celebrate it daily regaurdless of this dam disease.
Don't focus on it being back focus on the plan you have to fight it.
My thoughts and prayers are with you on your journey.

Sent by Kerry | 2:09 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy,
You are right... nothing has changed. YOu are not sicker today than you were the day before the scans; and you felt fine; great, before the scans. The only difference is now you know. You know the cancer is back and you know what the treatment will be. But, over all your health hasn't changed, not today, probably not tomorrow either.

I know what recurrance does to your mindset. It robs you of the ability to plan past year, next 6 months, 3 months or for that matter next month. But it can't take today. Today (and tomorrow) are yours, to do what you want to most. Don't let the worries of what may come take away all the 'todays' you have. I know that sounds easy and simple; it took me a very long time to actually do it,,, and I still have trouble sometimes; especially after bad news. Sometimes I would set a deadline--I can worry and feel sad for the next 48 hours, then it's time to move on to living again. Go ahead and make plans for your career, for vacations, for whatever. That's all any of us, healthy or with cancer can do.

Prayers and thoughts with you.

Lori

Sent by Lori Monroe | 2:38 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy, My heart and prayers have been with you since I heard your first broadcast of "my cancer" on npr radio. I listen on WKSU, Ohio. Many a day I have cried or cheered with you...many a day I have asked God to take that cancer from you...I "ditto" what so many other have said about cancer, your attitude and inspiration to others especially your contribution in the past year to so many cancer patients and their families. My dad just had a tumor removed from his colon, we don't know the diagnosis but I had to think of you and be encouraged by your excellent outlook and determination to live your life in the most optimal way. You have touch so many lives by opening up your heart to us all during this difficult time. I would like to nominate you for a Nobel Peace Prize for your contribution so far to humankind everywhere. I applaud you, say a prayer for you and continue to look forward to hearing npr radio broadcasts FOR YEARS TO COME on how you BEAT "my cancer"...I always say "prepare for the worst but HOPE for the best"...take care of yourself.
Love and Prayers,
D

Sent by Denise | 3:50 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy, I guess I've had a little better luck than you this time.
I've been dealing with my cancer, Colorectal for 10 yrs. now.
One month of radiation before surgery, then one month of chemo, took care of it for over four yrs. Yes I have three tattoos but they're on my butt.
Then the cancer metastisized to my liver.
The Dr. thought sure I was a goner so he did my surgery last of four that day. But he took his time and feelinjg he was working on a cadaver, he tried some stuff and after 16 days in the "Five Star Hotel", A.K.A. the hospital, I walked out.
Two yrs. later it showed up on the remain thirty percent of my liver so they froze it off. Then two yrs. later again it showed up on my left lung. Eight months of 48hr. doses of chemo every two weeks. After five months the PET scan showed no growth but no reduction either. At that timje i started drinking 100% pure Pomagranite juice, 8 oz. every day.
Three months later there was no evidence of metastatic disease. That was last August.
Oh, by the way, I have and always had a very positive attitude about everything in my life. I never worry, I never allow myself to get angry, and consequently I rarely feel stressed. When I got bad news from my Oncologist my only reaction was, OK let's get it fixed. And fixed they did.
Every four months they would do a blood work-up and exam. All looked well.
Two days ago, again they checked. Nothing! Now he doesn't want to see me for 6 months. That's a first for me since 1997.
I feel wonderful!
Positive attitude and
Pomagranite juice.
That's my recipe for fighting this monster!
Roman Bukolt
Madison, Wi.
home of wonderful Cancer Facilities

Sent by Roman Bukolt. Madison, Wi. | 5:11 PM ET | 06-09-2007

June 9, 2008

Hi Leroy and all,

I continue to be saddened by your news and that of others who are hanging between ???cancer patient??? ??? (a term I don???t like or use much because of the helplessness and dependency it connotes for me) and cancer survivor. I think we are all survivors.

For me, long term survival ??? especially in my present relatively good condition - beyond five or perhaps even three years is a matter of near fantasy. I have a glioblastoma stage 4 that as of my most recent MRI appears to be in retreat ??? if there at all. MY next MRI is in about a month. Considering my prognosis, I live in an 8-10 month universe that extends about 2 months at a time.

But I am certain (almost) that it will be back sooner or later with fewer and probably less hopeful and more painful treatment options. Like most of you, I am sick and tired of being more or less sick on a daily basis. In 7 ?? months I have not gotten back to all day long full normalcy ???bit sometimes close. The hope is that I bounce back for shorter periods (8 ??? 10 hours per day with interruptions) when I???m all there and not fatigued.

Since I don???t have forever, I am trying to use ???now??? to relatively full advantage. That doesn???t mean not being sad, scare or depressed and fatigued on fairly regularly basis, but it does mean not giving into it for very long. It also means looking at these feelings and trying to figure out where they are coming from. Some of it is from the menacing unknown-ness of what we are going through. Some is from the unfairness of having ???life??? happen when I was making other plans. And some of it is from not knowing when the current stage will be suddenly interrupted or gradually slip away. Like many of us I keep constant watch. These are other ways that cancer is an offense. It takes too much of a dwindling supply of time and attention to deal with ??? and, I don???t believe will ever stop.

Nevertheless (procrastination and naps aside), I carry on with plans, including responding to this blog and on other longer-term projects. I am using this time to try and better understand how, if cancer and cancerous social afflictions are inevitable for some, we can as individuals and a society:

?? Become better able to assist those who are suffering (Leroy, you are a great example in this

?? Overcome the very real social and economic dysfunctions that make that suffering worse (insurance pharmaceutical and political self ??? serving, unnecessary war, etc.).

?? Reframing our own situations so that we can best use the time we do have on behalf of both others and ourselves. Help to create a world where other can live so that the ???end??? of life, which sooner or later we all face, can help to shape the ???ends??? of life.

Maybe that???s enough preaching. I was very impressed a couple of days ago with how a couple of members of a support group I attend, both severely limited by their cancers are still helping out a retirement facility and with youth groups.

Keep on keeping on. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

John Shippee,
Atlanta, Georgia and currently on the road.

Sent by John Shippee | 5:31 PM ET | 06-09-2007

I am so sorry. Partlly because I don't have cancer and I don't know how you feel. Partly because I have my own issues that I don't know how to resolve. Partly because a blog is so impersonal and I want to be personal. Partly because I want to make a difference but I don't know how.
So I'm really sorry, Leroy, but I wish you well with all my heart. LS

Sent by LYDIA STONE | 7:24 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Hey Leroy,
Just wanted to say my prayers are with you.
Heather in Kansas

Sent by Heather Kirkwood | 7:40 PM ET | 06-09-2007

HI Leroy,

I am so sorry to hear that the scans didn't bring the results we all hoped for you. I don't think I know at all what you are going through but I try to imagine - I am one of the ones on the other side that deal with their loved ones having cancer and trying to understand how to help.

For my Mom it has been a rollercoaster ride since we found out earlier this year. It's been disturbing to me how slow the doctors in Germany are moving. I wish I could be there with her to go with her to every appointment - she just simply doesn't have the strength anymore to question her doctors. She was and still is trying to be the strong one in the family - the rock, the person who was never sick. I feel sad to hear what people have to go through and I think that my Mom is going to have the same path ahead that you do. Chemo, test, surgery...maybe radiation.

A friend of mine who had cancer too and is clear at the moment told me to never give up hope and that's what I will do!

And I will hope for you as well!

Sent by Cory | 7:52 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Briana

Please do NOT give up hope...we are all here with you! If you need someone to talk to, please feel free to email me at tess.dockery@gmail.com

I may not be going thru what you are, but I'm also a cancer patient. I'm here to listen and maybe be of some type of help! I've been following the blog and read story...I am so sorry for the torment you have went thru!

DO NOT give in...fight this beast! You are in my prayers!

Sent by Tess from KY | 8:07 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Dear Leroy:

I have not read your blog for a while. I am so sorry. I feel as I know you and your pain well.

I have Colon cancer mets to the lungs. I am coughing alot lately. My tumors have grown as well. This is an incidious disease. I feel like I've been on a rollercoaster for 3 1/2 years. I know you can identify with the feeling. Cancer sucks!!!! I am angry,sad,scared,determined,hopeful,
fearful,frustrated, discussed, pissed off,tired,more spiritual,more aware of others pain and I cry buckets. Many times I cry buckets for all my friends that have cancer. Since being diagnosed in 2003,I have met alot of very kind and wonderful cancer suvivors.
Today, I talked to a woman whom is a twin. She and her sister had Hogdkins disease. She has been a suvivor for 6 years. Her twin did not survive. She pasted away 4 years ago. She told me, you do the best you can and get best care you can get and you leave the rest to God. You can only do what you can do.
I pray that your Dr.s take good care of you and God wants you hear on earth for a long while....

Leroy, you along with my other friends are in my prayers.

God Bless,

Beth Morrison

Sent by Beth Morrison | 10:49 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy,
I read your blog every day. You have helped me with your courage, your strength, and your enduring will to share your thoughts. I have Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. Although our treatments are as different as our cancers, we share many of the same thoughts on life. You are absolutely right, I believe, in sharing the feeling that I, and many others have: that our cancers are going to be with us, in one form or another, forever. You have helped me to soberly accept that. Our futures may not be as bright or as certain or as long as we had formerly expected, but, with good medicine and love and help from family and friends, it may still -- I hope -- be a future filled with quality. I feel that "my future" is very much the same as yours -- still very much in question as to length, quality and what it holds. I just wanted to let you know how much I look forward to your daily wisdom and insight and words that help so very much. Thank you, Leroy!

Sent by John Brady | 11:02 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Dear Leroy,
All day long, I have thought of you. I imagine where your thougths are and how you are gearing up for treatment.

I teach second graders and last year, when I went through my diagnosis and treatment, I had two sick kids in my class. One has a very rare chronic brain condition and one, who lost her twin sister to cancer, has been battling cancer for six of her eight years. Both of these eight year olds taught me a lot about how to fight and how to live.

Two months ago, J, my student with cancer, got devastating news: she has another primary cancer, osteosarcoma. She has already had a bone marrow transplant and a stem cell transplant during her earlier battles.
She wanted to talk with me that day after the Big Talk with the medical team. (she's got a big team, too!) I knew what the options were already, but I wanted her to tell me. She listed them all, one by one. I said, "Wow, you guys have a lot to think about. What did Dr. F (her main oncologist) say?"
She said, "Well, he told me we were in a battle and there might be a time when I did not want to fight in the battle anymore, but, if I wanted to fight, he would be there to fight with me and if I was ready to rest, he would be there for me too ...I told him I could fight one more time."

So, she's had three chemo sessions and has surgery later this month. In between treatments, she's played softball, gone to school, and taken a trip with her family.

SO, be like my little J. Do the treatments, play a little, do another treatment, read a little and maybe even take a little trip.
You know we are all here, thinking of you, praying for you, and feeling confidence in your excellent healthcare at JHU.

Keep the faith,
Robin

Sent by Robin | 11:50 PM ET | 06-09-2007

Leroy, you've been a man that I've looked up to and respected every since I saw the special and started reading the blog. I can say I'm sorry and I am but you've heard that enough. My words want to be of encouragement. Fight the fight you were dealt with all your might!!!! We didn't ask for these cancers but we either give in and do nothing or we do like me, you and alot of other survivors are doing NEVER GIVING UP!!! Just take it as a set back in this journey we call life because you are alive and do have a life, all be it different than most. From your notes you are an amazing person with the will to survive and I know you will!!! I celebrated my 5 year bone marrow transplant date on June 5th. They say you are "cured" once you reach that mark, but I'm like you, I battle cancer, not necessarily active, but the everlasting side effects of all the chemo and full body radiation I had. People look at me and say "well you're looking good are you back to work?" And I don't know what to say (because I am young 35) but they can't see the inside of me, all that's damaged, the bone pain, the chemo brain, the constant fatigue, the constant stomach pain and diarrhea, I could go on and on. I am a nurse and would love to go back to work but my body now will simply not let me. People don't understand Acute Myeloid Leukemia people usually die from it, but I'm here. I think God wants me to stay home and take care of my precious boys 14 and 7. Leroy I'll be praying for you and hoping for the best. Never give up!!!!!!!!!

Sent by Angel Lemons | 12:44 AM ET | 06-10-2007

Your courage and your inner strength continue to astonish me. I'm so very glad that you had a blast in Hawaii. And I'm sad that the latest scans weren't good. Although my relations with the Almighty are iffy, my prayers, whatever they are worth, are with you.

Sent by Victoria Ferreira | 1:46 AM ET | 06-10-2007

Hang in there LeRoy, we are all in your corner and this fight isn't over yet! Your blog has given me hope and the strength to keep fighting and I am now in remission to the surprise of my surgeon. It's a rough road but we will all travel it together. Keep fighting for the future you want to have. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.

Sent by Eileen Pruyne | 5:46 AM ET | 06-10-2007

Robin: Thank you for your blog and for writing that wonderful story about your 8 year olds. Look to children for inspiration, right?! Her grit and honesty is humbling ("I told him I could fight one more time"). We all have something to learn from her.

Sent by Sandra Shuler | 9:11 AM ET | 06-10-2007

One day at a time, Leroy. One day at a time. And, hang onto Hope with all your might.

Sent by Marilyn | 9:16 AM ET | 06-10-2007

Leroy ~ I think it's time I send you a mai tai, I'll make it a double!

Sent by teri g. | 10:46 AM ET | 06-10-2007

Hi Leroy, You sound a bit on the downside and we can understand why. I know you'll put your smile on and go back after it; just takes a bit to adjust! Please keep in mind many people get through their days by how you get through yours. Keep up the good work Leroy.

Sent by Pat | 1:24 PM ET | 06-10-2007

Its hard not to but best advice given to me - "Don't fast forward your movie - focus on today"

Sent by dr bill | 3:43 PM ET | 06-10-2007

Hi Leroy. I have been fighting this thing for 3 years it started in my esopagus and then to my brain they removed the on tumor in my brain but wanted to treat the other one.
I go back for my up tate mri and cat and the report ever thing looks great.

1 week later my pet scan shows 3 locations. man one day things are good the next well you get the idea.
I Pray each day and i am sure things will work out. I find my self fighting for insurance i had purchased now going on 4 mo. they take you mone but womt be there when you need them . it is a big struggle for the family.
please bear with my i am relearning how to type along with other things after my brain surger

Sent by tim | 6:46 PM ET | 06-10-2007

Just got back from a memorial service for a local man I didn't know. I am not one of those odd people who loves funerals; I was volunteering. It was held at a local Gilda's Club and there were lots of cancer survivors hanging around, talking about their treatments and disease and recovery. I overheard a man say, "Yeah, any day I am above ground is a good day."

That's it in a nutshell, isn't it?

Sent by Robin | 8:25 PM ET | 06-10-2007

Leroy

As I walked this Friday night at the Williamsburg Relay for Life I thought of you. I walked with my mom, who is also a breast cancer survivor. She has had a hard time this part year, the arimidex causing her arthritis to become quite bad. But she made it around the track once as the survivor's walked around the track. Then we stayed to see the luminaries lit with the bag pipes playing Amazing Grace. You were in my thoughts and prayers as were all my other friends, family members that have fought the battle and lost and those that continue on LIVING WITH CANCER. Stay strong. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and allowing us to feel and experience the feelings we all have but sometimes don't just talk about. Thank you and good luck.

Sent by Andi Arabak | 9:43 PM ET | 06-10-2007

Dear Leroy,

I've been reading your blog since last year. I also saw the show your friend ted did on televison a while back. I do not have cancer. I have had the expirieence of talking with many people with cancer over the last few years. I read with close attention a blog which talked about not being able to go to Afghanistan...that this is the what you did. It was who you are...or who I was...those lines really struck me, and I hear a similar theme in todays blog. I often heard people with advanced cancer getting chemo talk about "i don't know who I am anymore." "I should show you a picture of who I usd to be." Pieces of their selves or identiy were lost, changed or sometimes transformed.many expressed a loss of meaning or purpose in their lives. I equated this with a profound existential or spiritual distress. I am very interested in how you and others cope with the change in who you see yourself as, what gives you meaning and purpose when you can't do the things that asre synonomous with how you see yourself and how others see you.I would also like to echo what others have said. I hope you do continue to move forward and are able to return to work that is so important to you.
G. Adorno
Tallahassee, FL

Sent by Gail Adorno | 9:50 PM ET | 06-10-2007

Dear Leroy,
I've recently had the same experience. It's amazing how the news of a scan can snap us into that raw place. I still feel like the tears and really feeling our feelings is very healing. I felt "normal" and I got a "questionable" scan and I was just complelled to "weep" after I got away from everyone (I don't usually weep) and I just felt better afterwards physically-I was very grateful for the mediation room at the cancer center. I hope you feel better soon, and I like the saying above-one day at a time-one moment at a time. ((hug))

Sent by Linda | 2:14 AM ET | 06-11-2007

Leroy, I am just getting caught up here having spent most of last week planning/having/recovering from surgery to correct a problem that remains from my cancer treatment two years ago. Sad news to catch up on. I am so so sorry it came back so soon for you. I was hoping you'd at least get a little longer reprieve from all the nasty stuff. I don't know what else to say except my thoughts are with you.

Sent by N.R. | 9:00 AM ET | 06-11-2007

Leroy it maybe back but don't forget to joke and laugh. I say this because I am where you are. I was cancer free in Nov. from Pancreatic and in Jan. I was told it is in my lungs. So now it is back to more chemo and back to joking to make myself and others feel good even if just for as long as it takes to read this message.Though I am physically and mentally tired most of the time it is amazing how a joke comes out of the blue to make me feel better. Or how I may joke about something and feel better even if just for a while. Both my son and daughter are back in the house from college for the summer and tonight was a perfect example of how jokes and laughing can let you feel better and forget the rotten stuff for awhile. Today should have been a really rotten day because chemo was cancelled and I need to have a scan this week. Terror is in the back of my mind that chemo is not working but just for those few moments I was on another plain and would not have missed being there. So even though you have done the drill before I will remind you not to take yourself or others to seriously and remember to joke and laugh.

Sent by Cathy | 8:35 PM ET | 06-11-2007

Dear Tess,
I just today saw your post offering support and I thank you so much for your kindness. I will send you an email, personally, and thank you for your address. I did not think anyone had even noticed my thoughts, but I was obviously mistaken. I have written posts the last couple of days, but they have never shown up on the blog, so I do not know what has happened to them. Of course, my mind tells me they are not worth printing. That is how far down I have fallen, and I am afraid.
To be going through this nightmare alone is purely the most awful thing I have ever experienced, and people like you, who show they care, mean everything to me.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Love,
Briana

Sent by Briana | 2:30 PM ET | 06-12-2007

Leroy- I have been quietly reading your blog since the documentary aired in May. My father is suffering from small-cell lung cancer; and like you, was cancer-free for a while until two weeks ago when "the scan" revealed that it was back. Needless to say, the hit has been devastating.

I want to let you know how comforting and inspiring your words are. Your spirit is admirable and I so wish that my father can muster up the strength you possess.

I wish you the best of luck in your battle and have good thoughts going your way.

I will be thinking of you and reading your words of inspiration daily.

You make a difference. thanks.

Sent by ES | 10:56 PM ET | 06-13-2007

Cancer patient yes, but you are Leroy Seviers, first and foremost. Cancer doesn't define us. Live today well and still have dreams Leroy! Dreams of Hawaii, dreams of tumors going away...whatever and wherever your mind takes you. None of your blogs from yesterday are "silly." Each one documents "you" at that point in time. Who and what are we if we don't have hopes and dreams for tomorrow? Keep dreaming Leroy...with all the worries of good scans and blood tests, we deserve it. Those of us living with cancer and all our caregivers, friends, and family will always live with the dis-ease of the disease...dream, daydream and continue to have hope of things better...The burden would be too much to bear without it.

Many prayers, positive thoughts,and dreams for good blessings for you and yours...for all of us.

Sent by john | 10:14 PM ET | 06-16-2007

I saw the Discovery Channel Special the night before I started chemo for another pesky spot on my liver. I have stage four colon cancer, and like you I have been told there is no cure, and it will be treated as a chronic disease. I feel very fortunate that I am still alive and doing well as my diagnosis was in August of 2005. Every person I met in chemo the first time (11 months) that had stage four colon cancer is no longer alive. My doctor says that as a responder to the treatment I would be a 7 or 8 out of 10. Of course being a 10 would qualify as a remission. I only qualify as a partial remission, because the microspopic ninja cancer cells are still hiding in my capillaries waiting to attack another organ. Monday will be my sixth chemo in this round and my numbers seem to be going down so maybe it is going to work again. I look forward to sharing your journey as your willingness to eloquently describe your days is a way for the rest of us out here to connect with someone smart, witty, realistic and one of us. Thanks so much for doing this.

Sent by Jana Whitman | 1:36 PM ET | 06-28-2007