If only they could be beaten by sense of humor and perspective, they'd have no chance with you, whoever they are. Joyce

Sent by Joyce Smith | 7:10 AM ET | 08-27-2007

BASTARDS.

Sent by Lori Levin | 7:18 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Good Morning Leroy! What a wonderful imagination you have. To liken your C to Butch and the Sundance Kid chase.
These "guys" do seem to have a mind and a life of their own, don't they? If so, they were here before us and can we ever expect to make them leave us alone? Maybe they thrive on conflict and outwitting us. Are they bigger than it all?
Interesting and scarey.

Sent by J C Rakowski | 7:33 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy-I've been reading your blog for about a year before my diagnosis thinking how brave you are... After being diagnosed with metastasis at my original cancer diagnosis, I now understand the feeling of fighting for your life. Later today I will go in for surgery that will hopefully increase the chances for long term survival, but I know just like you do that those cancer beasts hide in the oddest places. It is just too bad that what the doctors have in their arsenal to attack these parasites stinks. Hoping there is something in the arsenal to kick cancer's butt.

Sent by Amy | 7:51 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Hi Leroy,

You have said what I have been thinking and feeling for two plus years now. I was diagnosed with Head & Neck cancer on April 29th 2005. It is funny how we remember the ???important??? dates. They did 35 radiation treatments over a 30 day period which ended on July 1st 2005. I missed about 2 weeks of work towards the end of the treatment, but life went on and I thought the cancer was behind me. About a month later I had surgery to remove 17 lymph nodes in my neck, mostly as a precaution. Two of the lymph nodes had live cancer cells in them. The surgery caused me to miss 2 days of work; I was dismayed, but did not give it too much thought. That is why they did the surgery anyway, just in case. But they kept on coming. I had no evidence of disease for about 4 months, but then a scan showed new hot spots in my neck area jus outside where I was radiated. I went through 5 months of chemo. I didn't miss any work. I had chemo scheduled for Friday afternoon, Saturday, and Sunday. My longest infusion was the Friday one at 12 hours. That chemo did not work, they kept on coming. I had some biopsies and some relatively minor cutting edge (no pun intended) surgeries. They could not get clean margins. Again, I missed almost no work, but did start eating into my vacation time. My doctor then gave me a choice. Radical surgery that would put me out of commission for about 6 months or I would die within a matter of months. With the surgery, there was a 15% chance of a cure. It was a tough decision, one which I agonized over, got a second opinion, and finally decided to do it. Turns out the surgery, once they got in there, was more radical then they had anticipated. They had to replace about half the inside of my throat with tissue and muscle from my leg. They removed my lower left jaw and used titanium and a spare bone in my leg (the tibia) for reconstructive surgery. They thought the surgery was a success. I became disabled by it and had to stop work. My speech is compromised and my ability to eat (after 3 months on a feeding tube) is still difficult at best over a year after the surgery. 4 months later, there they were again, the outlaw cells came back. Since then I've had almost constant chemo since mid-December 2006 and further surgery to remove more live tumor cells. My doctors are amazing and will do almost anything to try and stop this thing, but the cells keep coming back. My next scans are in about 3 weeks. I'm an optimist, but with my track record, I suspect they will be back. And unfortunately, they will not be in a place that is operable. I hope I am wrong, but as others have said, expect the worst, but hope for the best. I have made the right decisions so far, but future decisions will be much more painful??? if I even have options. I am no longer naive about the disease and the relentless nature of it coming to get me. My doctor tells me we still have a few more tricks up our sleeve. I look at it as so many options, so little time. Bottom line, I know how you feel and it gets really tiresome.

Take care and I hope 10 or 20 years from now we can look back on this as the dark old days. But, I fear that it my naivete, what is left of it, is talking.

Ed Steger
www.hncancer.blogspot.com

Sent by Ed Steger | 7:58 AM ET | 08-27-2007

I was diagnosed with both colon and breast cancer on June 21 of this year. I am told constantly that attitude is very important in my recovery.
You are a walking example of a wonderful attitude. Live,laugh,love, and blow off as much steam as you need to. You have the perfect forum for steam blowing. Thank you for sharing your journey with us all - we are pulling for you!

Sent by Annaleisa Boggs | 8:06 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Dear Leroy, I can identify with this blog today - "who are those guys and why do they just keep coming on". People say to you don't give up and keep fighting, well what choice do we have? It sure does get tiring and frustrating though. But the most important thing is that there is hope for us all. I wish they would give up and go away for awhile too. Thank you for continuing on and expressing your feelings so eloquently. Hope today is a good day.

Sent by Vicki (FL) | 8:27 AM ET | 08-27-2007

I am sorry Leroy. This really sucks. Sometimes I wonder when I will get sick of fighting this persistant bugger! Don't give up.
Tomorrow is my stem cell transplant for lung mets. Wish me well.

Jill

Sent by Jill | 8:28 AM ET | 08-27-2007

If cancer is anything, it is persistent! Burning, cementing, chemoing, irradiating, cutting but yet it persists. However, you are also just as persistent along with your docs. It seems that we as cancer patients must persist long enough to find the right formula of treatment to finally bring a visit from our wonderful friend NED and irradicate the posse nipping at our heels!

Often wondered and have discussed with my oncologist, why is it that a drug or combination of drugs works so well and irradicates the cancer in one patient but illicits no response in another with the same diagnosis? Perhaps the same cancer (melanoma, colon, breast, etc.) at the molecular or cell level is different and unique hence the differences in clinical responses. Just one of the many mysteries with this disease and why we must persist.

It is so tiring mentally and physically to continue to fight but that's the only option to hope to beat it into submission. Don't quit, don't give up, be persistent and with the right combination of treatments, NED will visit you.

Blessings and prayers.

Sent by Al Cato | 8:31 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Once again you said it all in an extraordinary way. All I can say today is, thank you Leroy.

Sent by Laurel M. Jones | 9:16 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Thinking of you and hoping the posse jumps off the mountain. I'm so sorry to hear all you've been going through. Cancer is relentless. Again, you are in my thoughts and thank you for sharing.

Cristina Trapani-Scott
Ypsilanti, Michigan

Sent by Cristina Trapani-Scott | 9:17 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Dear Leroy,

After that day, your life is never the same. "That day" is the day the doctor tells you, "You have cancer." For some reason, after reading the blog for a very long time, I always manage to read that statement every day. It's almost like my prelude to my book.

Today I sense a feeling of sadness or should I say "Just plain tired" You have been through hell and back and are still persevering. You have every right to feel frustrated and angry! My husband has been walking in your shoes for a year and a half now and always has a sense of " What's next" ? What's the next surprise going to be. He has finally come to realize the meaning of "Metastatic Cancer". He is starting to realize that no matter how hard he tries, the cancer is always one step ahead of him. I so wish the word "metastases" did not exist in the cancer world. Then everyone would have a good chance of survival. I have a friend who had lung cancer 18 years ago, had surgery, end of story. No chemotheray, no radiation and is in great shape. I am happy for her, but I must be totally honest, I always ask myself the question " Why couldn't it have been that easy for my huband" Why did he have to get cancer with "Mets" ?

Anyway.............time for me to get off the soapbox! Enough babbling. Please hang in there Leroy. I wish only the best for you. My husband, like you, also does not consider jumping off that mountain an option! Lets hope that those guys you were referring to " In the basement " will come up with a surprise for us in the near future.

Prayers to you and Laurie..............Sasha

Sent by sasha | 9:22 AM ET | 08-27-2007

..."maybe I'm just too much trouble."

I love it! You're my inspiration to be "too much trouble," like Leroy! (Anyhow, we're a posse too, right? Let's make Cancer start looking over ITS shoulder.)

Sent by Doris | 9:27 AM ET | 08-27-2007

You know it makes me wonder Leroy, why the doctors and researchers are concentrating on "chasing" these monsters all over our bodies instead of focusing ALL their efforts on finding out WHO or WHAT is leading the offensive? If we determine the trigger or lead cell, shouldn't we be able, after all these many years, to find a way to stop them in their tracks?
Seems that we have been donating money and "researching" this disease for my entire life and still no cure or blocking. Can't be the money involved in the drug companies and their treatment drugs profit?

Sent by JC Rakowski | 9:37 AM ET | 08-27-2007

I say, 'Giddeyup cowboy, and fly like the wind!'
Strategy and mindset goes a lonnng way in fighting this thing called cancer.

Sent by lisa | 9:49 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Mr Sievers
I think this latest blog is your most poingnant to date. I too am fighting cancer and have asked myself who are these tumors and qhy have they come back to make my life difficult. I am so impressed with how you write, I read your blog every day and gain strength from your words
Thank you. Keep the faith as they say, we can beat this somehow
Gillian

Sent by Gillian Faulkner | 9:51 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy !
Boy did you ever "hit the nail on the head"!! I too, have had so many proceedures ..almost too many to count ,,,,and it still wants more of me Like you, and the rest of us---we won't go down with out a fight! Thanks for sticking around for you and us ,,,we need each other and i firmly believe WE will prevail, come hell or high water!!Sorry for all the clicle's, but they work . Have a good one. xo dee

Sent by dee | 10:08 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy, The posse as cancer- another brilliant metaphor. Your determination and heart have been an awesome match for them, but I so want to stop them permanently- for you, for me, for all of us facing this often relentless battle.

Sent by Karen Q. | 10:10 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Bolivia...maybe you should go to Bolivia. Thanks for referencing one of my all time favorite movies! You are right, "who are those guys?"

Sent by Patricia A | 10:26 AM ET | 08-27-2007

You and my uncle. He was diagnosed 17 years ago and is undergoing surgery today. It's back in another place. I can only be lucky enough to have beaten it. Thanks for the analogies.

Sent by Lisa | 10:29 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Boy I wish cancer cells were smart enough to decide further invasion of one's body was just "too much trouble"! But considering that their goal appears to be to kill the host that feeds them, you can't expect them to be strategic planners, can you?

Great blog today, as usual. Though I currently appear to be cancer free, after fighting two cancers a couple of years ago (have I lost the posse or are they still coming after me?), my thoughts are with those of you who see the posse right behind you.....

Sent by N.R. | 10:48 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Hi Leroy,

Another good movie line, "Take them to the mat." From You've got mail!

Keep fighting, use every bit of weaponry you have!

Everyone has to fight....

Thanks

Sent by Sue Chap | 10:56 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Good morning Leroy,
Oh I like that analogy. Recently I used the invasive plant, kudzu, as a metaphor for cancer. I was expressing to a friend, who I met and got to know in the chemo treatment room (there are a few upsides to cancer), my anxiety at having just completed 20 sessions of radiation and having to wait a month before we could evaluate the treatments and figure out our next plan. A whole month of doing nothing!!
By golly I wanted to get back in there and keep on whacking and attacking those other cancer tumors. My friend assured me that after 7 months of chemo and one solid month of radiation treatments, it might be a good thing to allow my body a few weeks to recover. I told her that I had become so use to running the weed whacker, trying to hold the kudzu bay, fighting to get those cancer markers down, and doing whatever I could to keep from being overrun by the kudzu. To just do ???nothing??? was unsettling. She assured me that resting my body was doing something. True, now I seeing this s quiet moment in which I can mend my body, store up energy for the next fight and to breath deeply. Rest and strengthened I???ll be ready to face that dang kudzu I know will be waiting for me but I???ll be ready for it too. So if in a month from now you hear in the distance the dim roar of a weed whacker, it is only me getting back into action.
Take care and don???t forget to peek at the lunar eclipse on Tuesday.

Sent by Susan M | 11:14 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy,

I don't know what to say today except thank you for sharing.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 11:45 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Good morning Leroy,i think you are a couregeous man and all who are going through this,i wish you luck every day and hope that you and all who have cancer find a way to "lose the Posse" or that monkey on your back. Rob

Sent by Robert Knoblock | 11:51 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Hi Leroy,
This is my fourth go-around with cancer, spanning a 21 year period. I've had radiation four times - in the process right now for current breast cancer. I've had chemo three times now... and surgeries galore...

Thinking of your metaphor of the Butch Cassidy movie... and the jumping off the ledge: Sundance doesn't want to jump because he can't swim... and Butch says something like "Hell, the FALL will kill you!" Sometimes that's the way I feel...all this treatment is what will eventually be my end... but hey - I've had 21 years I wouldn't have had! How can we not continue to fight?

Your blogs are so right-on... you certainly have a way of expressing our thoughts and emotions. Thank you!!

Sent by Patricia | 11:54 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Hi Leroy,

I just want to respond to the weariness and bewilderment I'm reading between the lines of your amusing, yet serious blog today.

As Mary Chapin Carpenter sings, "sometimes, you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug."

Dealing with cancer is a difficult, frequently lonely, journey. Even when you are surrounded by people who care, no one is inside your body but you.
I just hear that sadness and awareness today. Every day, no matter what new treatment you throw at it, the cancer throws something back. Basically, a horrible situation.

You are coping courageously. With humor, kindness, outrage. We are out here with you, bearing whatever witness we can to your struggle.

I know I'm wishing for the ability to just make it go away. My heart aches for you today.

Take care and peace,

Kim

Sent by Kim Blankenship | 11:56 AM ET | 08-27-2007

Hi Leroy/all in blog land,

Haven't written in for a while, been depressed... my tumors are growing again... Leroy... sorry to hear about your new lung tumors.

Too bad there isn't a way to figure out what is causing these tumors and turn that cell off. Or find someway to manipulate that flesh eating virus to only eat certain cells that contain these "rogue" cancer cells and then when it gets done, it dies.

Who knows... maybe the great minds of science are working on something like that right now! But in the mean time, we gotta just keep on fighting... "hi ho, hi ho... off for more chemo!"

"Carpe' Diem" Shirl

Sent by Shirley Dolitz | 12:16 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Good Morning Leroy and All,

Gosh Leroy, I didn't realize until today's blog that you have been fighting Cancer for so long. I can certainly understand your fatigue and frustration at such a long battle. But I also admire your determination to keep up the fight. You are an inspiration! Indeed, "Who are those guys anyway," Who keep coming and coming after us? To be able to keep up your sense of humor after all of this is certainly a tribute to your enduring strength.

To Ed--You have also had a long and painful road, my friend. And yet you keep on going, you too, are COURAGE in human form.

To Al--You are correct in that the types of cells in the same basic types of cancer can be different. Some are well defined cancer cells and thus easier to identify at their borders. Some are very primitive, poorly defined and difficult to identify. In addition the cells in people also differ and thus what drug is effective for some people may not be for others. Also the cells of cancer, like that of a virus, have the ability to change or mutate. That is why they can develop a resistence to Chemo and radiation. When we can understand how these cells can change, we will have a better chance against that relentless posse that continues to try to chase all of us down.

To Jill,--Our prayers go with you tomorrow. Our spirits will be there at your bedside.

To Sasha,--Thank you for sharing the very touching tribute to your husband.

To All,--Courage for the battles ahead. May we all outrun The Posse!!

God Bless

Eileen Pruyne
Charlotte

Sent by Eileen Pruyne | 12:18 PM ET | 08-27-2007

I first heard about "Living With Cancer" when Ted Koppel was on the Daily Show. They talked about Ted's friend Leroy, and I think maybe the clip from the show they showed was of you. Nobody said what happened to you.
Later, as I watched the show, I related to you and was touched by your story more than the others. I thought you had died though. I thought that at the end of the show, there would be an empty chair for you in the town meeting. I watched with this feeling in the pit of my stomach wondering about your fate. They did the scene with you and Ted walking along that waterway by your house, and I was so sad that you were saying goodbye.
But then they came back - you came back - with the ablation. I was in awe of the wonder of what had happened to you, and I was so thrilled to see you sitting there at that town meeting!! Since then you have continued to outrun the posse, and I am inspired by your tenacity and perseverance. I can't imagine how hard it must be to keep running. Once again you have chosen a beautiful metaphor that allows other people a glimpse of what it feels like to fight for your life as so many others on the blog have said. Thanks.
Scarlett

Sent by Scarlett | 12:28 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Just a note to Thank you for your comments. I try to read them a couple of times each week. Very helpful. Thank you so very much. God Speed. Sarah

Sent by sarah hartsell | 12:41 PM ET | 08-27-2007

You, and fellow writer Ed Stegers, really stand tall in my Heroes Hall of Fame.

My lung cancer, treated with surgery and chemo, has not evidenced mets SO FAR. I am, however, positive that any of us who have had one race against cancer are forever mindful of how determined a posse it can be.

Most of the weapons in your doctors' hands were not available just a few years ago; think of them as fresh horses and hard tack to sustain you in this chase.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy Miles | 12:52 PM ET | 08-27-2007

yes, its like you are running towards the
train of health with a bunch of guys on horseback and pistols, coming after ya.
I hope you jump on that train soon and continue your journey to a life free of cancer!

Sent by Jenn | 1:10 PM ET | 08-27-2007

I hear you, my friend.
It's tiring.

Sent by Vicky(NY) | 1:25 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Well, you???re just never going to believe this???.. I had my f/u apt with my oncologist this am. We looked at the CT scans, and at the PET CT films, and he wasn???t impressed w/ any of them. We discussed the facts that my liver isn???t enlarged, my tumor markers have been normal, and he called the head of the radiology group that had read my films. We made tentative plans for me to get an MRI of the liver, and to see him next week for another follow up. The head of radiology was to read all of my films and get back to my onc.
I got a call from my oncs' ass't later this morning. He???d spoken to the radiology chief by that time, who said that there are no liver mets, and by the way???.my lungs are still clean. Soooo???.GREAT news! I???m doing the happy dance for me, and I hope you will too.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 1:26 PM ET | 08-27-2007

I have been teasing my family lately telling them I am going to go ahead and shave my head (in preparation for a new clinical trial chemo I will be undergoing in once the port is in) and start connecting the dots on my skull. Once I finished radiation on my spine, all these new little bumps are showing up on my skull (where the discovery of bone mets began). I'm with you. Who are these guys? Just get a clue...I am several miles ahead and I am not slowing down. Nine years should tell you something already!!!! Just go away!

Sent by Kay | 1:35 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Right with you on this one!

My treatment, two years, ago was supposed to end this story. Surprise! Didn't work.

Now I have mets.

Check out my blog:

http://coffeeandchemo.blogspot.com

Sent by RivkA with a Capitalt A | 1:48 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Hi Leroy,
I have been reading your blog everyday for a few months now. Thank you for starting it and continueing it. I recently finished chemo for breast cancer and I will be fine. I feel guilty saying that to you...Im sorry we are both in this cancer club. Anyway the real reason Im posting is I just saw a great bumbersticker. Its political, but somehow it made me think of life in the cancer world. It read "Where are we going, and why are we in a hand basket?" It made me laugh out loud.
Best wishes,
Issa

Sent by Issa | 2:13 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Who are these guys's indeed!!! I have learned since diagnosis to never say "what next", because there always seems to be trouble lurking around the corner. I have also learned that the more hopeful I feel mentally the healthier I feel physically. Last week I wasn't feeling to well on either level, this week I am ready for battle again. I am off to get another opinion. I fully trust my oncologist, I just can't help feeling that we may be missing something that a fresh perspective might uncover. So I will fly down to Nashville next week to meet with a specialist (provided everyone works together to get all the info & phone calls taken care of). I will say, it was very hard for me to talk to my doctor about this, but she was wonderful! This is my life, I have to fight for it. I may not be curable, but I don't intend to go down without a fight! Peace to all!

Sent by Martie | 2:36 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Dear Leroy,

So weird that you would write about this today. I had a dream this weekend that was so scary I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't even want to tell my husband about it. I was being CHASED all though this dream, by someone, I can't remember, but I kept getting in different vehicles trying to run away. THEN, somehow, I was on a road walking, and this gross little deformed dwarf thing kept walking behind me. I'd stop, beat the hell out of it, and go on, then I'd look around and it would still be there! I'd beat the hell out of it again, and so on and so on and so on. I didn't mind beating the hell out of it - I kind of enjoyed that, it was just the fact that it kept coming. I can't help but wonder if that was my subconscious and some reference to cancer. Anyway, it was a scary dream, and so far, only a dream although I just had a physical, and who knows what they might find? Once you do see the relentless onslaught of a disease like cancer, on my poor mother, you, and everyone here (Good People!) and the randomness and the cruelty, you realize no one is ever safe. Anyway, keep beating the HELL out of it for me. Take care!!! Nancy, good for you!!! I'm so happy for you.

Sent by Connie E. | 3:38 PM ET | 08-27-2007

It seems you like movie references. Me too. I hadn't thought of Butch and Sundance, but I like it.

I've been describing my cancer like Michael Myers in the Halloween movies. You know, they shoot him, they stab him, they push him off buildings, etc., etc., etc. He just keeps coming.

Right now, chemo is keeping me "stable". We'll see. I have bone mets and have my next bone scan in October. That will probably call for more radiation. Oh well, as long as I keep in front of the monster, I'm happy.

Blessings to us all!

Sent by Anne Hart | 3:58 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy, I just recently was watching Butch Cassidy and I do love the analogy! Right now I feel like I've pretty much lost the posse - I don't have mets, and I'm just about 2 years past my BC diagnosis. But I don't think I'll ever shake the feeling that those guys are still out there, waiting to pounce.

Hey Nancy Clark! What great news! I will definitely be doing the happy dance for you.

Sent by Gretchen Hoag | 4:11 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy> One of our favorite movies, but I've always considered the _cancer_ to be the outlaw and my body, in concert with our oncology team, to be the sheriff and posse...

I think that's what I like best about your blog and its commenters: the wide array of attitudes and approaches we all share.

I've commented earlier that I consider curing this cancer to be one of the most serious and laborious jobs I've ever had. It's becoming increasingly clear that for many it's been more of a career than a job; clearly, there's so much more to learn...

Ed Steger> thank you for sharing your blog address.

Jill> good luck with the transplant tomorrow!

Nancy K Clark> thoughts of you and the Happy Dance make me smile!

In our corner of the CancerCommunity> Last week, two of four radiotherapy machines were "broken." Schedules were whacked and everyone ended up waiting for everything, including machine parts. Apparently, we don't have many linear accelerator repair shops in the area... *smiles* Everyone -- staff and patients, alike -- handled it famously.

This week will mark the half-way point of this schedule of treatments. So far the side-effects have been manageable *knocks on wood*

Tomorrow we'll be changing from a late afternoon to an early morning appointment. I'm hoping that getting up and getting it done in the morning will be a bit easier than the waiting-all-day-for-it that we've been doing.

Be well.

-dp

Sent by dp | 4:22 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Dear Leroy,
I hope you stop short and the posse goes off the cliff!
When I had ovarian cancer the first time I was seeing a therapist and we did some visualization. I was to pick something that I saw (in my mind) to kill the cancer cells. My killer was just a little Packman guy that just kept eating up those C cells. She told me one patient was a ballerina and saw herself kicking the C cells with her ballet shoes; another used a tank blasting them into oblivion. I don't know if it helped kill the cancer cells but it did help my mental attitude. I went almost seven years before the ovarian cancer recurred and it has been ten years since then.
My wish is that you outrun "those guys"!
Charlotte in Temecula

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 4:34 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Nancy Clark,
Great and welcome news! Here's to second reads.
I did a happy dance for you, but unlike your scans it wasn't pretty. Thanks for brightening my day.

Sent by Gene Koeneman | 5:07 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Hey Leroy,
I just got back about 2 hrs. ago with my best friend who had her 12th Chemo treatment today which they say is all for now. We are so happy. She has to return to her oncologist in 4 weeks for f/u. She had colon cancer surgery in February of this year and it was in 5 of 25 lymph nodes and diagnosed as Stage III. C world is certainly a scary place to be but I wish you and everyone on this wonderful blog a better tomorrow. I want to believe we are in one of those movies that ends "HAPPILY EVER AFTER" at least for now. Hugs to you all.

Sent by Teresa in WV | 5:33 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy,
Since I'm relatively new to this site, I didn't know until today that you've been battling for six years. I know it's tiring, but... Congratulations!!!! You've been battling for six years!!! My husband's posse caught up with him after 20 months.

It's all in perspective, Leroy. Keep up the good fight.

Kathy

Sent by Kathy Barney | 6:28 PM ET | 08-27-2007

My personal experience is similar ??? and I seem to have the cancer hiding for a while ??? I???m knocking on wood that it will leave me alone. Fighting with this thing (a tough cancer that is ??? all cancers are different), fighting a tough cancer is a long, arduous battle that often can leave one choosing between burning out a loved one, or pursuing the next treatment in hopes of survival. When the cancer chose to leave me alone (for good I hope) not only had it scared my body, taken at least a year of my life and several years to recover (if ever), but also I lost many people that I once thought I could counted on. Many people who were once close to me, are now gone. They simply burned out & got tired of me being sick for so long. When your friend compares your chemo pukes to the time they ate bad fish, and they get upset at you for not getting over it like how they coped with their bad fish day ??? well, you know that cancer thing is insidious ??? it can rob you of more than just your health. Who is that guy? Darn good question. Good luck. May someday we develop the science and social skills to deal with these tough things.

Sent by Paul Fielding | 6:30 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy,
I read your blog every day. Since my husband (Leon) of 37 years passed away almost 5 months ago, I thought I wouldn't read every day like I did for the 3 1/2 years that we fought his lung cancer. But I find that I need to know how your day went (and others).
God bless you, Jane

Sent by Jane | 7:47 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Or...maybe you and the doctors are the posse and the cancer is wondering "Who are these guys? Won't they ever give up?" Indeed you have put a hurtin on the cancer and forced it to stay on the move!

Sent by Gregg | 7:48 PM ET | 08-27-2007

To Nikki
I will be thinking of you tomorrow-My husband passed away on April 7th and I know the one month marker was hard--so was the two, three, four, etc. I just had my birthday--that was hard to get through--his birthday is coming up--I dread that. But really, in some ways, it does get easier--It is easier for me to enter the house, to leave the house, and I can sleep a little better. But I miss Leon more every day as I know you do Burge. My thoughts and prayers are with you, Jane

Sent by Jane | 8:00 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy,
I kind of equate it to the terrorists. They keep finding new ways to get around all the security, but it doesn't mean that we stop trying to keep them out. By the way, I just found out from a Petscan I had last week that my cancer is back in full force. I had radiation to my spine four months ago. Now it has spread to other areas of my bones. I'm dusting my wigs off for a new round of chemo as I write this.
Your sister in the fignt.
Love you.

Sent by Lorraine Ballarin | 8:07 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy - great post, and great movie. It reminded me of when I was diagnosed the 1st time & I wrote a long letter to cancer basically saying to back off because "...If I die so do you. Only 1 of has a chance to live here, and it's me without you. You die either way...so you might as well retreat now..."

Thanks Leroy, I hope you evade "those guys" for many years to come!

Sent by Beth | 9:31 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Leroy -

Great analogy, great movie. I'm three and a half months past my surgery for stage one RCC and should be clear of the posse. Tomorrow I get the results of my latest CT and for some reason I'm looking behind me. I pray it's just an illusion, but I keep recalling the diagnosis that I heard on April 17 - "You're a complicated patient...enhancing renal mass...80% chance it's cancer..." You do tend to recall those dates, huh?

Tomorrow's going to be a good day - for all of us.

Andy

Sent by Andrew Kearns | 11:12 PM ET | 08-27-2007

Hey Leroy,
Though I have been cancer free(or so they say) for one year, I find myself constantly looking over that shoulder, waiting for the posse to pick up the trail. I don't know if that will subside in time or not. I seem to become more paranoid about it as time goes on. You and your blog really help in helping me, and I am sure everyone who reads it, realize that they are not alone with their thoughts. They are not alone during diagnosis, treatment and cure.
Stay safe, stay strong,
Lance

Sent by Lance Carlson | 11:59 PM ET | 08-27-2007

I'm going to take horse riding lessons now! Although the instructors might wonder a little when I show up looking like Annie Oakly. I'll just say, "Call Leroy. He'll explain!" I love the fight in you, Leroy, because that means I can fight too. Thanks.

Sent by Becky | 6:55 AM ET | 08-28-2007

Hi Leroy,

Ditto the second comment by Lori Levin! Cancer makes me angry...on your behalf and others. I know you get tired of it all, but you have an amaging spirit. Both my parents had lung cancer. My mom is still living at the age of 90! I think you'll continue to beat the odds.

Keep writing. I enjoy it and you do it so well!

Sent by Judy Fuller | 3:37 PM ET | 08-28-2007

Nancy K. Clark: Great news - wow ! I have a question for you since I have breast cancer w/liver mets, and have had this particular diagnosis for seven and a half years now. How did they happen to interpret your PET and CT scans as having liver mets incorrectly? Did both scans seem to show mets but the MRI did not? Hmmmm. You must feel great ! Congratulations.

Yeah, it's to all of our credit that we stay the course and keep on fighting but I know I'd rather be alive and fighting than the alternative.

Thank you Leroy for this blog.

Sent by Nancy Oliveri | 9:29 PM ET | 08-28-2007