Yesterday I was musing with a friend about being really tired of the chemo and the uncertainty of the future and running out of steam. The best thing happened when she said, "Well, whatever your choices for the future, you know your friends will be there to support you." I really appreciated her validation. I didn't need encouragement or optimistic platitudes. I needed to know that, when I go down, that my closest friends will be with me. That gives me the energy to get up and go again for awhile.
Thanks, Leo, for your blog.
Merry Marcotte

Sent by Merry Marcotte | 7:26 AM ET | 06-25-2007

People are always saying that I am so strong. I don't know, I cry a lot. Tomorrow I am facing a bronchoscopy - another bout under anesthesia to test if have a lung infection and/or cancer metastasis. Then Thurs. to talk to Dr. but already know results of PET and Brain MRI which weren't good. So I have to make a treatment plan, get a second opinion, decide how I'm going to do all this. Lose my job and figure out how to survive financially. I'm taking it a day at a time but am I brave - I just don't know because it seems that any day I could just collapse with the anxiety of it all. I pray to make the right decisions and reamin strong. Thank you Leroy for continuing to write your blog.

Sent by Vicki (FL) | 7:58 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy

I live by my three "P's"... persistence, perseverence and passion!

That is one of the greatest lessons I learned from my cancer experience those 32 years ago!

You are absolutely right... the human spirit is far stronger than any of us realize until we HAVE to! I believed for many many years after my cancer that I could not endure the treatments again should my cancer recur.. I have since come to realize that if I HAD to I would certainly endure it again if necessary!

One of the problems with cancer treatments.. is for many cancers the patient feels just fine UNTIL going to the doctor/treatments.. and so we can't help wondering what is truly killing us.. the cancer OR the treatment! And that makes enduring the treatments even harder.. it is easier if the treatments make you feel better.. but when they are the source of you feeling so debilitated.......

Persist... persevere and live your life with PASSION

~Ron

Sent by Ronald K. Bye | 8:06 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Thank you for saying it. We are the toughest group going. Thanks for your strength and sharing it.

Sent by anne lumberger | 8:15 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Great commentary Leroy! I've talked about how little I have let two years of cancer, two surgeries, two six month periods of chemo, etc. impact my work life. However, once again I am faced with a surgical decision. I can have a lung tumor removed in a fairly freaky surgery or go back on chemo and see if it works. My guess is the surgery will prolong my life a little, but will it decrease the quality? These are the lousy decisions we face. The recovery time is supposed to be 4-6 weeks. I'm thinking of asking for two weeks off and trying to come back without mentioning the surgery. I was able to return after about two and half weeks after both the colon and liver resections but I didn't have ribs that had been spread open. I want time, I want quality and I don't want to be known as "cancer girl".

My oncologist has been out of town and I pursued both a radiologist for RFA and a lung surgeon, while she has been gone. The surgeon said he would talk with her but then his office called and said, "We've scheduled you for next Monday." I don't want to let an opportunity pass me by but this one is a lot quicker and seems more like an "option" than the other surgeries.
On the good side it would be a "plan".

Stephanie, my thoughts are with you and I hope you can continue to find some joy in each day.

Sent by Dona | 8:17 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Oh, Leroy, you've said it again. Thank you so much for putting it all into words for us. It helps to know I'm not alone with the feelings, but that they, indeed, are shared by many.

Emory Winship (where I am being treated) has a theme in the decorations there: "Courage. Compassion. Hope" It's nice to read that when I walk into the clinic. Small things do help....and the love and support of others along the way....Like Merry said: That helps us put one foot in front of the other. Hut,two,three,four!

I hope this day is a good one for you.

Sent by Sandra Shuler | 8:41 AM ET | 06-25-2007

I think the worst of times, brings out the toughest parts out in everyone.

Surival. Not something fun to think about, but the survival skills that cancer patients bring on the table, are par none.

You teach me a ton...every single day.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 8:44 AM ET | 06-25-2007

All weekend I have been thinking about Stephanie's message saying that she didn't want to be divided into good/bad or fighter/given up camps. And your posting today helps me to put some of those thoughts together - which I will briefly plop down here.

I think the fight against cancer takes many forms. Sometimes it is seeking 3rd, 4th, 5th opinions; traveling to Mexico or Germany for new treatments; leaving no treatment option untried; running a marathon or even winning the Tour de France.

But fighting cancer be much more subtle and quiet. It can mean maintaining your dignigty and integrity even when it is clear that cancer will take your life. It can mean embracing kindness and love and rejecting self-pity or bitterness. It can mean allowing the people who love you to take care of you and take on some of the burden. It can mean not allowing cancer to ever take away your essential self even if it takes your final breath. All this is fighting cancer too.

I am so grateful to this blog and the wisdom that comes across every day.

Peace,

A.V. Terry

Sent by Virginia Terry | 8:48 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Good morning Leroy/All....... " The toughest kid on the block" I just wanted to share something I recently read.

It takes Strength to feel a friends pain.
It takes Courage to feel your own pain.
It takes Strength to hide your own pains.
It takes Courage to show them.
It takes Strength to endure abuse.
It takes Courage to stop it.
It takes Strength to stand alone.
It takes Courage to lean on another.
It takes Strength to love.
It takes Courage to be loved.
It takes Strength to survive.
It takes Courage to live.

Today is "Chemo Monday" and I accompany my husband to the chemo center. I sometimes go back to last July and read Laurie's eloquent post about what it was like to be with you while you were enduring your chemotherapy. I too walk the streets and bring back little treats for my husband, as well. I feel what she felt when she sat in the room beside you. I don't know how much courage I have and I'm certainly not "The toughest kid on the block" but God knows, I'm trying..........trying really hard to be strong.

I wish you well Leroy. Always in my prayers. Sasha

Sent by sasha | 8:49 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Tomorrow is CA19-9 day. Last time my numbers had gone up 800 points. I feel pretty good so I hope it was a fluke. I will have 2 of my neighbors in chemo chairs right near me. Ages ranging 50-60. School has ended, leaving me time to think-how will I go on? I should be thriving on the unstructured days and freedom to do what I want all day. Cancer occupies every thought in my head. I think I need to reflect on my daughter's philosophy about the triathelons she does - it's just a longer daily workout. I need a mental workout that helps push aside those awful thoughts for another summer. I need to enjoy my family,my dog, the pool and a nice trip to Alaska. Where will that strength come from?

Sent by Cheryl McDowell | 9:08 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Dona: If the surgery you are talking about is a thoracotomy with partial lung resection, then I seriously doubt your recovery will be 4-6 weeks. That's what the surgeon told me, too, before my thoracotomy two years ago. It was more like 3-6 months before I could really say 'recovered'. I worked, but only very part time, from August until December. I had no complications, it just took that long for me to stop hurting (I had back muscle spasms from the rib spreader...OUCH!), and build my former strength back up.

I just wanted to share my experience, since I think your idea of going back to work in 2 weeks without mentioning your surgery is not a realistic one after this surgery.

Sent by Sandra Shuler | 9:21 AM ET | 06-25-2007

In our family - with my wife enduring treatment since 1999 for her breast cancer -- my brother said it best. "She is tougher than me, you, and the entire New York Giants team - combined!"

Sent by Joel Widder | 9:24 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,
A very timely post. On my way over to the blog this morning, I took a long sidetrip to freecell because I just thought, "I can't face it anymore. I don't want to read about cancer. Mostly, I don't want to have cancer!" But you are right. One foot in front of another. One day at a time. I will enjoy today. Tomorrow is another day and will take care of itself. Thanks for the encouragement to just persevere. I won't let the cancer take away what life I have left. Today, I think I will play in the garden.

Sent by Stephanie Dornbrook | 9:34 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy -- My wish for you would be that every day something really makes your eyes twinkle. Go through what you need to, do what you can, don't beat yourself up and remember this pain and fear is the disease, not you. Treat the emotions as honored guests and you will meet whatever challenges face you.

Kindly,

Elaine

Sent by Elaine Barnes | 9:34 AM ET | 06-25-2007

We ARE the toughest kids on the block. It is impossible to explain to a friend that going to the mall takes too much energy. I can only shop online. Yes, I've been shopping online for seven years now. No, there is never a day when I am not fatigued. What part of that last sentence don't you understand?

Only those of us who are walking the cancer walk understand. Thanks, Leroy, for using your precious energy to write this blog. It's a lonely disease we share.

Sue

Sent by Sue | 9:41 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,

"That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger." -?- (stronger? sometimes, maybe. soul-tired? yes.)

"You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

I know Eleanor Roosevelt said the second quote, not sure who said the first.

Those words run through my mind throughout these days that are filled with experiences that I'm finding hard to endure. I'm using a trick that got me through very long hikes up and down mountains with friends who "loved" hiking the mountains of Western North Carolina. (I loved my friends, and only "liked" hiking.) When I thought I could NOT take ONE MORE STEP, I focused on the tree maybe 10 feet ahead, and said, well, I can walk to that tree, and kept repeating that "trick"/method. Got me from the top of Mt. Pisgah (Blue Ridge Mtns.), to the trail's end in Montreat, NC.

Now, it's do the next thing. I keep running into the wall of NO MORE, or ENOUGH ALREADY, so I'm going to break it down into even smaller chunks of what needs doing -- see if that works.

I like the word you use: Persevere.

I think you are tough, to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and I think everyone dealing with illnesses, etc. - patient, family member, friend, healthcare providers, - have to be made of strong stuff to hang in there with all that happens. Both in the cases where the decision is going on with offered treatments, or a decision that a person is in the place where treatment is no longer the option he/she chooses. (or perhaps there is no more treatment option.) Again, I agree with others here, no separate camps.

Fear continues roaring loudly, telling me to run, anywhere, just GET AWAY FROM THIS. DUCK, HIDE, MOVE! Somehow, I'm determined to persevere, for this moment; even while right now, fear is yelling in my ears.

Thank you for your blog today.

Heartlight to you,

Kim Blankenship

Sent by Kim Blankenship | 10:04 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Oh my God, Leroy,

I just got up after another night of not sleeping. I feel so down and tired. This week my radiation is moved to 9:00 AM which means I have to get my body going so much earlier. I read your blog and tears of gratitude rolled down my face.

My husband just turned to me and asked what's wrong. I told him that I read your blog and you expressed exactly what I am feeling today. He said "is it good that it makes you cry?" As I sit here crying all I can say is YES it's good. It's wonderful to have someone know exactly how I feel. How tired I am of the pain, and the drugs, and the good doctor's, and all the kind faces filled with saddness in their eyes.

Yes, I'm tired too Leroy. But I have to go get in the shower and get dressed so I'm not late for my radiation appointment. If you don't mind, I'm going to take you with me today. I need your support. Thank you so very much.

May your day be a good one.
Laurel

Sent by Laurel M. Jones | 10:05 AM ET | 06-25-2007

My experience in the past couple of years fighting two cancers and then having several rounds of surgery to heal the "side effects" of one of the caner treatments HAS made me realize how tough I can be. The thing is, though, when I'm in that pre-op room waiting for surgery that I know will leave me feeling really bad for a while after, I feel like a wimp--about pain, about having my blood drawn, etc. So what is toughness, really? I think it's just living through what we have to live through, even though we wouldn't have thought we could. After all, it's not like there's other good options, really. But, yeah, we certainly earn our toughness badges in the process!

Sent by N.R. | 10:10 AM ET | 06-25-2007

A week from Friday I again face the chest,abd,pelvic scans.So I'm trying to prepare to hear that it's back--I'm in that "prime time" for recurrence. But I can't get past starting to think about living that whole scenario again.I have resevations for WDW in Sept. I have reservations for NEXT April for Destin, FL. I have a grandson coming in Sept also.I have lots of reasons to keep on, but this is scarier to me than the first time. Right now I still have my hope.
Carol ovarian/peritoneal stage 3B

Sent by Carol Erlingheuser | 10:13 AM ET | 06-25-2007

You asked, "How do we keep going? How do we get up each day and face the drugs, or the radiation, or the surgeon's knife?" For me, I find the answer in the Bible (Psalms 29:11) "The Lord will give strength to His people; The Lord will bless His people with peace." I found this promise to be true 5 1/2 year ago when I had a hysterectomy and was told that I had endometrial cancer stage 3 and then had 33 radiation treatments. I also found this to be true when 15 months ago I was told that my cancer had returned and it was incurable and then had 10 months of aggressive chemo treatments.

The Bible also says that "My times are in His hands". I don't understand why some of us are given a long life to live and some of us are not or why some of us have to suffer more than others--only God knows. But I do know that although this experience with cancer has been a hard road to go down, I have been able to see God meet me and my families needs in miraculous ways and I have drawn closer in my relationship with Jesus--and for that I am thankful.

Leroy, thank you for your blog--I read it everyday and pray that you will also seek to draw strength and peace from God.

Linda

Sent by Linda Faulkner | 10:25 AM ET | 06-25-2007

I agree that we demonstrate each day our strength and resolve to do what we can to survive our cancers. How each one does it is unique to the individual and his/her circumstances. Nevertheless, a toughness is there even though you may not be able to see it.

Some of us are blessed to be surrounded by a support network of family and friends who do whatever they can to help us along. We take energy for our fight from their goodwill and compassion. Others are not so fortunate and must drawn upon their core resources- mental,emotional, physical and spiritual- to get them through each day's challenges, largely alone. This is sad and also real.

Perhaps we could take a moment in our journey to reachout to others who aren't as fortunate and give them some encouragement. Something as simple as a telephone call, a card, lunch and email, etc. - whatever is approriate for the situation could lighten someone's burden for the moment and could also lift our spirits as well.

Toughness could imply physical strength. I submit that in the cancerworld, it is all encompassing and often manifests itself in many unsuspecting ways.

Leroy, you have demonstrated an all encompassing toughness with your compassion, care, support and humanity by sharing yourself with your fellow travellers on the cancer journey. Keep up the good work.

Blessings and prayers as always.

Sent by Al Cato | 10:30 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Hi Leroy, I look forward to reading your blog every day... it's the 1st thing I do. You are right... WE are the toughest kids on the block (thanks for saying that, it all of a sudden gave me a boost of strength and confidence).

I just remembered something that I thought I should share with everyone. There is a place the American Cancer Society has for cancer patients and their families to stay for FREE if they have to travel for anything to do with their cancer and the place is called Hope Lodge. The reason I'm telling you all about this is because, I was diagnosed over 6 years ago and just recently realized this place was there last year, I wish I had realized it sooner, it would've saved on gas etc. I stayed there from Nov 06 to April 07 and it was the greatest place ever!! They are located in most states. I can only speak about the Buffalo NY Hope Lodge because that is the only one I've stayed in. It is an old mansion that has been transformed into sort of like a bed and breakfast. Big winding wooden staircases and stained glass windows. The room I stayed in had a fireplace and 2 beds. (One for my guest). There is a community kitchen in a beautiful giant room with 3 refrigerators, 2 stoves, dishwashers and plenty of dishes etc for you to use. There was always fresh coffee brewed and "goodies" like baked goods for everyone to eat. The best part of it were the other guests (patients & their families). It is so nice to meet all the other people going through similar experiences. It actually made me look forward to going for my treatments just to be around all these other people.
Anyway... for anyone who doesn't know about Hope Lodge: (And no, I don't work for the American Cancer Society.. I am a cancer patient.) This is a link to the web site:
http://www.cancer.org/docroot/SHR/content/SHR_2.1_x_Hope_Lodge.asp

Stay strong! Cape' diem! Shirley Dolitz
http://imskwerally.tripod.com/

Sent by Shirl Dolitz | 10:30 AM ET | 06-25-2007

As a breast cancer survivor, I appreciate all the comments of this writer. Thank you for putting into words the feelings that some of us cannot verbalize.

Sent by Gay McNab | 10:47 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Once again, you so astutely put into words what I and others think /endure as we move through cancer world. Thank you for the wonderful gift. I, too thought I was really strong haven gone through some horrific life experiences prior to this. I did not even realize the lesson I was to leasrn about true strength was about to begin until my dx a few years ago (multiple myeloma). I live alone, so it has been challenging to say the least at times. Generally I do ok, but as I become increasingly tired and faced with treatment decisions that entail very complicated choices, I wonder, what happens when I am too tired to be strong. Actually, i know the answer as do we all. Until then, I move forward and breathe.....

Sent by julie baxter | 10:51 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy, I'm there right with you. I am tired, my hemoglobin is down and so am I. Along with the fatigue comes the down feeling. "Can I continue?, do I want to?, who am I doing this for?" It passes and we go on. I thought time would speed up, but it slows way down. There is probably a reason for that. Sure finding a lot of time to think about things. There is a greater plan than we know and we must and will continue. God bless you all. Joyce L

Sent by Joyce L | 11:07 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,

You are able to put into words how I feel. You speak well for me about our toughness. I read your blog on a daily basis because it inspires me and makes me feel less alone. I have found a community that understands and shares my experience. Thank you.

Sent by Kim Barbato | 11:09 AM ET | 06-25-2007

...but I'm so damn tired!

I'm tired of the drugs.

I'm tired of the port in my chest.

I'm tired of leaning so heavily on my husband, and then having so little energy to give anything back to him. There's just more dread, more fear to face.

I'm tired of the seemingly never-ending chemo. My neuro-oncologist tells me that this is a marathon. Boy was he right. I'm at about mile 23 and I've just about bonked. That's the term my neighbor, who just finished a 100-mile bike ride, used to describe running completely out of energy -- bonk. You don't want to bonk too soon.

I am so sick of the chemo, and the chemo room and those horrible naughahyde recliners. I'm starting to get anticipatory nausea. Yuck.

And I'm sick of how I feel, all the time.

And everyone keeps telling me how tough I am. I am so incredible tired of being tough.

Love you, Leroy, and everyone else here on the blog. Thanks for letting me rant.

Sent by Jordis | 11:39 AM ET | 06-25-2007

When people say to me "you have a great attidude!" or "you are so brave!" I outwardly thank them and my mind wants to shout, you do not see me crying in shower so I do not upset my children, or the drives I take so I can cry. The ups and downs of traatment and the disease is very hard. Sometimes you lose th.ose who have been the ones you lean on because it becomes too much for them to handle....I am not sure if we are tough, I think we just survive as long as we can

Sent by Miriam | 11:40 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Good Morning Leroy,

Cancer and the effects it has on the patient and family does have a way of making your stronger. They say that children with cancer are more caring and mature than their peers. It causes you to interact at a different level, express yourself differently, look at things differently. It alters everything about you. It alters everything about your family.

What is normal? I guess that depends on the day, how you feel, what is on your agenda. We have to be stronger than the strong to fight this "beast." We being patient, family, and friends.

My favorite time is at night, just before I go to bed, I faithfully read ALL of the postings, and of course, the one that started the thread.

Sent by Susan Chap | 11:47 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Miriam,

When do your children cry for you, maybe they put their faces in their pillows in the night to cry. Don't hide your tears, everybody is crying, try doing it together.

Sent by Irene | 11:58 AM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy,

What a beautiful take today on how it really is. Cancer patients aren't graced with special strength at all. It is more than their native strength is summoned by the disease - often surprising them that it is there.

Thank you once more for allowing us to be inside your head. You're a great teacher for patients, caregivers and the rest of us who will someday face something for which we need to be strong.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 12:11 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,

I live in Melbourne, Australia and work in the medical field. Australia's leading colorectal surgeon, with an international reputation, was diagnosed last year with colon primaries and liver mets - he died this week.

My message, of course, is a reminder to all to be vigilant with your health as, in this case, the symptoms had been around for a while. The cancer fighting world has lots one of it's finest.

I'm not a cancer patient or care-giver and this blog, with all these comments, has opened my eyes to the lives of those people I would always see in the chemo rooms and on the operating tables.

All the best Leroy, we're even following your fantastic blog down here in Oz!

Sent by Craig | 12:33 PM ET | 06-25-2007

You asked a question I've been wondering about sooo much regarding my brother-in-law. Did the treatments kill him sooner? He found out in Dec. about his cancer. He started txt right after Christmas. He lived to the end of May. If he had done nothing, would he have lived a bit longer and felt good enough to do a few things with his family???? I wonder ALL the time about it....

Sent by DiAnn | 12:42 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Hi Leroy and everyone,
My family, friends, cats and my faith get me through each day. Some days are harder than others. Reading this blog and seeing what other people are enduring puts my own struggle in perspective, though.

I know they sound like empty platitudes at times but: one foot in front of the other and one day at a time. That and a dash of black humor. ;)

Thinking of you all.

Sent by Lisa Lindstrom | 1:13 PM ET | 06-25-2007

With regards to the Hope Lodge. Even when there isn't one in your city, some hotels offer free or reduced rooms to cancer patients IF YOU GO THROUGH THE AM CANCER SOCIETY. These are name brand Hotels with nice rooms subject to availablity. It depends on the local managers and not the chain, but we owe much to the staff at a Marriott Courtyard. Not only did they give us rooms, they gave us emotional support and became like family. We also received some Phillips 66 gas cards by working through our Cancer Center, so check with the social workers at your centers. This was a big help considering we were traveling 500 miles round trip every other week for many months.

Sent by Nikki | 1:23 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Congratulations Leroy. You got me to cry. Its' the "hanging in there." It's finding out, against my will, how tough I really was. And the price I paid to learn it. A large chunk of my stability. The ability to do a job in a cubicle. The unwillingness to put up with an instant of stupidity or unkindness. I'm so angry. The stitches on my chest and running around to my back are slowly healing. I had to write the governor and kick and scream for this, my due under the law. I have had to furiously pursue disability - being angry helps - to show the They people that I'm not the person I was. I can't work for anyone any more. I won't be treated poorly or marginalized by anyone ever again. I've been through too much. I bolted from my office when my supervisor, a woman my age, said in a fit of faux rage that I was going to be written up for leaving a cellphone on my desk. That was it. Thank you for sharing your stuff with us Leroy. You've given us a voice, you've lifted us nobodies, us mini-heroes, out of obscurity because of your toughness. Thanks.

Sent by Alycia Keating | 1:32 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy, You are so right, it takes mental toughness to make it through. A day at a time, So much to think about, it wears on you. But, you get up and continue, what choice is there. I played football, got hit by some pretty big people, I never thought anything would hurt that bad, but this does. I will stay the course, it is our only choice. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 1:34 PM ET | 06-25-2007

As a caregiver, I am tired too....my mother is exhausted from caring for my Dad. There is not much sleep, no where near enough laughter anymore....but, yes, we are strong and we will continue to get up each morning, make sure Dad is comfortable and well cared for. He wants only for good health and we continue to hope he does not suffer much longer. A dear woman I knew quoted Alber Nimeth: "If we learn to cooperate with the inevitable,life can be a joy to the very end." I have posted it on my fridge to remind Mom and I each day with Dad is a gift...despite being so very tired.
Thank you for today's post.

Sent by Karen | 1:35 PM ET | 06-25-2007

My dear Leroy:

How fortunate I feel to have found this site and be able to read your thoughts and feelings during this fight. I am not a patient but an ex-wife since last Oct. who is trying to help in any way I can since a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer which has spread to his liver. Being an ex, I am an outcast to his family so I am helping as much as possible, cooking, packing lunch, spending the night so he won't be alone, grocery shopping, etc., without the benefit of having anyone to share his feelings or mine. I so look forward to reading your blog since I'm certain that he is in the same place just unable to express it. In my opinion you must be speaking for thousands of voices, like his, that remain silent fearing that discussing it might somehow make things worse or just not having the strength to talk.

I could never thank you enough for sharing your thoughts and feelings. You are truly a Godsend for me while trying to be there for someone who deserves so much more as do all on this site.

My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Sent by Crystal M. Hartley | 1:48 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Hello Leroy,

To change Shakespeare a little: "To suffer or not to suffer, that is the question." That seems to be the thought going through people's mind's today, mine included. How do we know when to keep struggling against our cancer and when do we say "enough is enough".

The same question faces me today in new form, this time with new drugs, new delivery systems, and a new form of radiation therapy known as TheraSphere. The purpose is still the same: to extend what time I have left for an incurable and inoperable cancer (liver). But when do you say "That's enough" How much money do you spend, how much pain do you endure, and when does overt optimism co-opt reality. Only God has the answers to many of these questions. I just wish I would listen more clearly for His answers. Until I have the answer that puts my constant searching at rest, I keep on looking for alternatives. I have a fantastic Oncologist but in the end, the decision is ultimately mine. As a quote I once read said "No one should make the decision so readilyto give up"

Has any of you had any experience with TheraSphere? I would be happy to read your replies. Dr. Tejura, if you're reading this, please feel free to weigh in. I welcome your input.

Until then, keep leaning on each other for strength, reassurance, and assistance. I have learned the hard way...you can't and shouldn't go through this struggle alone.

Sent by Randal Gray | 1:56 PM ET | 06-25-2007

My mother was a great role model for me in terms of just dealing with whatever life hands you. Whenever something went wrong, she didn't waste any time casting blame or worrying about the whys and wherefores. She just got up and took the first step in dealing with it...and then the next step. I hope I got some of her strong will and determination. But really, I don't feel too much that there was a choice. If I wanted to live (and I did) then I had to go through treatments that were unpleasant. And if I have a recurrence, I'll keep doing whatever I can to survive as long as I can.Is that strength or just accepting reality? Maybe what takes strength is to keep holding your head up and trying to live as normal a life as possible as you go through it all. Keeping your sense of humor, showing interest in others. Like you, Leroy!

Sent by Doris | 2:31 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy,

I guess I just wanted to say, "Thank you." You manage to inspire me everyday.

Sent by Nikki | 2:32 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Sixteen years and still going! May you be blessed as I have been.

Sent by Ed Sciple | 2:58 PM ET | 06-25-2007

I have to jump in and agree wholeheartedly with Jordis - I am so very very tired of being tough, and of being told that I am so tough and so brave. As others have said today, it's not like we really had a choice to be brave/tough or not - we have to be, just to get through it all. I've often wondered, when is it my turn to fall apart, or be "weak,", whatever that means? I think the answer is probably - never. I think we lose that option for good once we enter cancer world.

Sent by Gretchen Hoag | 3:04 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,
Once again you hit the nail on the head. When I started treatment a friend bought me a T-shirt that said Chemo Commando on the front. I could never bring myself to wear it...I'm not sure why. However, I was in Wal Mart the other day and they had a pink T-Shirt (favorite color) that says "Built Ford Tough". My kids think it is a little dumb, but I wear it with pride!!
I guess we all just keep moving forward until we decide it is time to stop and only we can know when that time has come.
Charlotte

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 3:04 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy,

Thank you for the reminder of being one of the toughest kids on the block. I am so far out from treatment that I often forget what it was like. I find myself longing for life as it used to be; to be able to eat all the foods I used to; to be able to drink a beer or a soda without the ongoing thrush battles; to have the strength and endurance I prided myself on at my age; to be able to go 30 minutes without the neck hurting and cramping...and on and on.

My children pick on me for getting fat, for not being any fun and for not having the strength or endurance I used to have.

It seems like life has never quite compatmentalized itself like before and things are always just a step off from what I remember.

I have battled many months to get my teeth restored to the point of chewing with confidence and I had a prosthedontist tell me at least I could swallow.

Your words today helped immensely to remind me of who I am for what I endured. Thanks again, Leroy, for the dose of real life! I don't know why I feel the need at times to defend myself for what I am versus what I was. I owe nobody anything other than to treat all with kindness and compassion. You have reminded me again.

Sent by Ed Brown | 3:31 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Tough.
It's an interesting word.
It can be used as a hammer to beat up someone who isn't.
Or not.

Sent by Ruth Klein | 4:17 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Hi Leroy, just read your blog todoay as I sit waiting for a blood draw and results of the latest CT. I felt like you were in my head. I am so tired, and everytime I think I can't hear bad news I take it and go on. But I am terrified, taht one day I won't. Who can you tell. Everyone who is around you is also tired of this and we all need a break, but we can't because taking a break might be losing all together. I hope today brings good news for me, that the tumors in my lungs haven't changed. I will you you posted.

Sent by Estelle | 4:27 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Sasha,
Once again I strongly identify with your post. I too have been accompanying my husband to his Chemo and I too run up and down to get him lunch and snacks. I too am trying to be strong for my kid's sake (they are grown), my husband's sake and my own sake. Everyone is pulling for us and I don't want to disappoint them. Keep up the good work.

Sent by Elaine | 5:36 PM ET | 06-25-2007

People used to say to my sister, "you are so strong, I don't know how you do it". My sister said she never thought of herself as strong or weak. But she did become tougher as long as she survived. She just thought of herself as living. Her living was a gift to all.

Sent by Fern | 6:34 PM ET | 06-25-2007

I am tired too - tired of being told I am brave, and tough, and "Incredibly strong" in this marathon I did not choose to enter. I also, as Miriam wrote in her comments, am tired of losing friends, who found this all too much for them to handle. I have decided I want, instead of hearing of my bravery, or my strength, or how little I seem to complain, or my good attitude, to hear that I am cancer free, something I will not hear in my case until I am with the Almighty.

Sent by Betsy | 7:57 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,

The topic of your blog today hit particularly close to home. I've just returned from Texas to bury my aunt, who has been an inspiration for me through my last several years as a cancer world inhabitant. She lived with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma for over 15 years and I mean she LIVED. For me, she was the epitomy of tough and it was hard to see her leave. She may have lost the ultimate fight, but she never gave up and she left me and her children, her grandchildren and her great-grand children and all of my cousins a legacy that is more valuable than any monetary riches. She taught us to fight, to live, and to accept with humor, grace and courage. I will miss her dearly.

Best,
Mo Spikes

Sent by Mo Spikes | 8:22 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Leroy, you're right -- several people have said that we (cancer patients and caregivers) are so strong and/or how can you keep on doing this? How can we not keep doing this? How can we not take one more step or try one more test or decide one more treatment? I never thought of us as the "toughest kid on the block" but it has a nice ring to it. I never did like being the "shrimp" in the group. Thanks for your insight
Roxanne

Sent by Roxanne | 10:05 PM ET | 06-25-2007

I recently read an editorial entitled "Surviving Cancer Doesn't Make Me A Hero". Seems very appropriate for this discussion.

http://www.courant.com/news/opinion/op_ed/hc-shaddox0610.artjun10,0,3815186.story

Sent by Kim O. | 10:30 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Again I must say- people fighting this disease are the bravest strongest people- As an oncology nurse- you make it all worthwhile. Hats off to you. We are fighting for you and love you.

Sent by kk | 11:20 PM ET | 06-25-2007

Dear Leroy,
I am sad and angry at the system that has let me down in my fight against CANCER. I would have never believed I would be in the situation I am in now at the time of diagnosis, or I would have done things much differently at the time, but because the tumor was so large, I did not think I had the time and my fear then is very costly now because I am unsure of whether or not my cancer was resolved, or what illness still invades my body, only that I am still very ill and am having a difficult time getting the proper care. I believe it is because of a series of events that began with a mix-up with my lab reports in the beginning, and now it has been very frustrating to get to the bottom of what the actual truth is in my situation.
When I was diagnosed, I was rushed into surgery, which I thought was the sign of a caring physician, and I went to a hospital I trusted because of my experience with superior care in past situations when I needed it. I live in the Atlanta area, and thought I could trust what I was being told about my follow-up care, but as it turns out, because I did not think I had time, I failed to do the proper research for my condition or the treatments available.
I was still in a state of shock when I went to the operating room. It was not until much later when the reality hit me between the eyes. I wish I had made some decisions differently. First of all, I would have investigated more, as much as possible in the case of CANCER, and perhaps I would not be in the situation I am in now. I did not have family members around me to help me make some of the decisions that were made, and I would like to convey to anyone who has not yet had surgery, or contemplating their treatment plans, to be certain of, as much as possible, the track record of those who will be shaping your future.
I am very disappointed, and trying not to be bitter because I feel it is partly my fault that I reacted out of fear and made decision based on the state of healthcare of the past, but it is different today, and I hope through my experience, I can save someone the heartache I am living now by encouraging you, if you are not in an acute, at-the-moment, life threatening situation, do not let anyone push you into anything before you know exactly what and whose hands you are placing your life. Unfortunately, the Hippocratic Oath does not mean the same thing as it did in years past, and there are those out there who do not act in your best interest, or tell you the truth.
I was promised supportive aftercare, with a regularly scheduled
treatment plan, but I have breast cancer, and in the 16 months since surgery have had no treatment plan at all, have had my blood drawn by oncology a total of 4 times, and I do not think those in the health care system have acted in a responsible manner at all. I have had complications with infection, and because of this, have been told treatment had to be delayed because of this. But unable to get the infections resolved, I have been going back and forth, ultimately not getting treatment at all. I must tell you I am frightened, and because the physicians also are not communicating with each other ultimately, as it is planned now, there will be a 2-1/2 year period of time before I will have a mammogram, and in my case, with the symptoms I am experiencing, it is unbelievable to me that this nightmare continues. Many would say just go somewhere else, and please know I have tried, but because of the false reports in the beginnning,
it appears everything is fine, and convincing a doctor to read further has been an uphill battle.
I am very frightened, and I do not believe anyone, especially a cancer patient, should undergo this kind of stressful treatment. I know it cannot be healthy, and I can feel the life draining out of me each day just in my fight to get the care I need. I am very tired. I do not know how much longer I can go on doing this alone. My energy level is so low I can barely function in any sense of the word.
When people say this is a lonely disease, this is another side of that loneliness, when you are not fortunate to have family and friends by your side to help you or encourage you. I have called the American Cancer Society who only refers me back to those who have already deserted me, and I no longer know where to turn.
I am very, very frightened.

Sent by briana | 1:01 AM ET | 06-26-2007

Leroy, Thank you for writing about your experiences. I come back to your blog occasionally to see how you're doing. I'm very sorry to hear you're going back in for treatment so soon. I really hoped you were out of the woods.

I have my own story I share on a private blog with my family & friends. I'm getting ready for a big surgery that could excise all my remaining cancer. I'm hoping to be lucky, but not expecting it. I think I know just how you feel. Good luck!

p.s. I want to mention the Wellness Community for those cancer patients or caregivers who may not know about it. The group I attend has helped me to be strong enough to do what I must do. If you want someone to talk with who really understands - go to the Wellness Community.

Sent by Bill | 2:05 AM ET | 06-26-2007

Leroy,
I am heartened and strengthened by your blogs and by your fight against this nasty disease. I am the first person in my family to get this, so my diagnosis in February was definitely out of left field. I have two primary cancers, breast and ovarian. Compared to the ovarian the breast cancer is relatively benign. That's what I've learned thus far...I have a whole new reality for comparisons that I never had before and would have had no other way. My prognosis is good, we got these dudes in time and I will have to endure a lengthy and nasty chemo after a very nasty and protracted recovery from surgeries. But my desire to live a life with all of my work and dreams is very, very strong. I am looking at your essay on toughness today and saying, yes, again a new basis of comparison and yes, I am tough, thank you for teaching me that. Although there are the dark, bleak moments, that thought keeps coming through. I know that this experience is something I can learn from and use these experiences to help my future life and the lives of those around me.
Thank you, Leroy, for sharing! My love and prayers are with you as I know your's are with all of the rest of the cancer world out there.

Sent by Linda Wallace | 10:08 AM ET | 06-26-2007

Thank you, Leroy. Thank you to everyone sharing their lives and thoughts here.

People tell me constantly how brave I am. It's puzzling. I'm not sure I'm brave, but I am certain that I wish to live every day until I die.

May all be well.

Sent by Gyla | 10:18 AM ET | 06-26-2007

I was diagnosed in Oct "06"with Breast Cancer while plannining my son's wedding to an irish girl in Ireland. I was determined to dance at their wedding and I did on June 16 2007.
I am just home and one of the highlights was when my son announced my journey to those attending, and a rash of survivors and those currently in treatment came up to share their journey. It was and awsome wedding at the Ashford Castle in Mayo Ireland, but my special moments were with these folks. Especially my son's high school friend who has an inoperable brain tumor that made the trip of a lifetime to attend his pals wedding dispite his own struggle.
I found a computer and kept up with your story a few times in the two weeks I was away. More will be revealed. Peg

Sent by Peg Heglund | 10:41 AM ET | 06-26-2007

I have been reading this blog since the "Living With Cancer" special. I do not have cancer but I am a nurse and in my experience have worked with cancer patients. I have so much respect for all of you for discussing, supporting and buoying each other up. Leroy you have provided an incredible opportunity to form such a strong alliance with those who seek a safe place to just talk. I honor all of you who keep up the fight and those who don't. I cannot understand your journey but I pray for all of you, every day, and my list just gets longer as I read.
Cheryl

Sent by Cheryl Scott | 12:08 PM ET | 06-26-2007

While we all hit that point of being weary (I've been in chemo 14 months since I was diagnosed 19 months ago) of the cancer experience, sometime something happens to make you want to grin and hoot as you realize that you've made it to a personal goal. Book seven of the Harry Potter Series comes out in 24 days, 11 hours, 28 minutes, and 07 seconds, but who's counting?

Sent by Susan M | 2:32 PM ET | 06-26-2007

I've survived breast cancer twice--two separate diseases; but my beautiful, kind, brilliant sister died from breast cancer that has metastasized to her liver. She lived four years, greatly surprising her doctors. What I remember is her bald beauty, her strength, her courage as she strove to keep her adolescent sons and her adoring husband strong. I don't really remember my own cancers, but I remember Liz's and I remember her last months of power, of faith, of incredible beauty.

Sent by Dorothy Jackson | 7:16 PM ET | 06-26-2007