A Body at War

 
“Sometimes I find myself using 'war' or 'fight' because I can't think of a different way to say it. And these days, sometimes I do feel like I've been in a fight.”
 
 

I know a lot of you don't like the "fight" or "war" analogies when we're talking about our struggles with cancer.

Because to call it a fight implies that, ultimately, we'll lose.

I agree with that. But sometimes I find myself using "war" or "fight" because I can't think of a different way to say it. And these days, sometimes I do feel like I've been in a fight.

I saw my plastic surgeon last week. No, I'm not having any body work done, although I've always wanted to do something about my double chin. But now just doesn't seem like the time to worry about it.

The plastic surgeon did all the work on my back after the neurosurgeons were finished with my spine. He moved some muscles around and closed up the incision. He also put the drains in.

He's the doctor who's going to decide if the last drain will come out this week, so I just want to go on record here, in case he reads this, saying what a great doctor he is! I figure a little sucking up can't hurt.

Anyway, he was quite pleased with the way the incision is healing. And then he said, "You look great on the outside. Inside, you're still a war zone." He was talking about our efforts to defeat the staph infection, something that is apparently much harder than I thought.

I'd never thought of it that way, but I guess he's right. My body is a war zone.

However we talk about it, however we label it, I am fighting for my life.

 

Comments (Send a comment)

Leroy,

Fighting is good. I don't look at it as fighting the inevidible, but fighting the the immediate. Those are two different things. Entirely different.

So keep up the fight.

Sent by Teri Thomas | 7:55 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Good Morning Leroy,

I clicked on the blog, saw the title (missed the date) and thought hey wait a minute. scrolled down, scrolled up and said ok, today is the 26th. Funny what a long weekend will do to the ability to know what date it is.

I little levity, a little sorrow sort of an even mix. So many procedures, so much manipulation of tissue, the effects of localized infection to surrounding tissue, your plastics guy is right, the body does begin to resemble a war zone. Really. And a little smoozing can't hurt! :)

Rebuilding takes time, I know this is not the first time you are hearing this. Hang in there big guy!

Sent by Sue Chap | 7:59 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy, I don't have any problems referring to efforts to defeat cancer as battles in a war zone. After all, cancer is an aggressive, opportunistic invaider.

You're right - you are fighting for your life. And, it's a battle worth fighting!

'Hope the drain comes out soon but not one day before it's done its job.

Sent by Marilyn | 8:01 AM ET | 11-26-2007

It is a war fighting infection and I'm sure you will win. You have great doctors and the strength to fight. If that's how you need to think of your cancer (as a battle) then that is best for you. WIN WIN Feel better every day.

Sent by Viciki (FL) | 8:06 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I think war is an appropriate analogy. War is ugly and relentless, uncaring for human cost. Fighting cancer is the same. We rely on our friends, family, our technology, and it he end our fortitude. Not everyone dies in a war. Changed, scared perhaps, but some make it. That is why we keep fighting. Hope is a human trait, as is love. Thinking of you with hope and love. Townie

Sent by townie | 8:13 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Hi Leroy, Yeah, I guess we all are here in cancer world.

Sometimes the firght just doesn't seem worth the effort, but then that goes away, and then the fight seems worth it and then that goes away and on and on. Even the decision to fight is a fight, half the time. God, what a disease.

But you blogged and I commented. Today, the fight wins! Pulling for you, Joanne

Sent by joanne | 8:14 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I understand and appreciate why people don't like the usage of war terms. I do. However, I too struggle for gbetter terms. In the end does the nomenclature really matter? Who knows.

You are fighting for your life on so many levels.

Hugs,

Lori

Sent by Lori | 8:15 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I'm like you in referring to the battle with cancer. It is a battle, a fight and a war. To attach some benign euphemism to it just doesn't seem to adequately convey the damage, physical, mental and emotional, cancer inflicts not only on the patient but also on the caregiver, family and friends. I don't also presume that in this war, fight or battle that we'll always lose! I understand the reality but that little light of HOPE that burns deep within my soul helps to fuel the optimism that is necessary to do battle with this unrelenting foe each day.

Call it what you wish. Describe it in the words that are most comfortable to you. You have earned the right to do so without argument.

Hope that drain can come out soon.

Blessings and prayers as always.

Sent by Al Cato | 8:24 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy -

Well said as always. It is a fight, no matter how you look at it.

Continued thoughts and prayers for you daily. Hoping the drain comes out this week.

Sent by Melissa T | 8:25 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy we don't like the "win or lose" analogy because of our compelling need for harmony but every day our body is involved with some kind of self destruction at a cellular level. The fighting off of infection usually demands little notice from us except when it is on a massive scale. Then the "conflict" takes on "War" status. Just hang in there and give your body all it needs for this battle. You are in my thoughts.

Sent by Pat Z | 8:29 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I can see how it would be difficult not to think of cancer as a fight or war or elimination. Your body has been invaded by a bunch of nasty cells who want to take over and shut operations down. so, in my mind, yes, its a war. I keep wondering if i still have those cancer cells gathering up their armies and regrouping, getting ready to attack again. They are good at hiding, so i just have to wait and be ready if they do attack again.

Sent by Jenn | 8:34 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy...it IS a war and you have just been through a major battle. Fortunately the generals leading the fight have the greatest knowledge, the most advanced training and the newest weapons in their arsenal.

And, all of us "in the trenches" are sending all the prayers and support we can muster.

Keep fighting.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy | 8:49 AM ET | 11-26-2007

After reading all the comments and posts from "our cancer family" I see that everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, as did I. My daughter flew up from San Francisco for 3 days, cooked me the most wonderful dinner, just for the two of us, then flew home the next day. What a loving thing to do! What brought it all about is the fact that my prognosis has dropped to 6 months because I refuse to undergo chemo again. But that isn't what I want to talk about.

What I would like to do is compliment Jim Street on his delicious sense of humor. His joke about the Lab Report and the Catscan had me laughing until I was crying. Way to go, Jim!

Sent by Brenda Lynch | 8:54 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I am with you in your fight. Prayers are going up for you constantly.
I don't like to hear about the "war" either. I'm going in for my ninth treatment today, and can only hope that I'm winning the fight.

Sent by Annaleisa | 8:55 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Mr. Sievers, If your cells are anything like you seem to be, they will rally and they will win.

I am praying for your healing and return to full strength so you can continue doing good work in this world. May God bless you and your family.

Sent by Nichole in FL | 8:56 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Good Morning and Welcome Back, Leroy! That was so interesting about the Plastic Surgeon being involved in your recent surgeries. Never thought of that. Hope that you will be able to have that last drain removed soon.
Sure hope that the "Battle-field" heals quickly and will be revered and respected as all battlefields should be.
You give us all a wonderful journal of your advences & defeats, but while it may be three steps ahead and one back, it sounds as if you have made "giant steps" and are forging ahead. You are hopeful and optimistic once again.
Maybe getting back to that "Ole Self" you often long for? I think so.

Sent by J C R | 9:09 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Dear Leroy,
Since the onset of my husband's cancer, I have always considered it as fighting a battle, always feeling disengaged from "normal life" in general. I have tried to maintain a positive attitude, but it is very difficult when every day brings a new surprise and not usually a pleasant one. My family and close friends have told me on many occasions to take one day at a time and go with the flow...........they are NOT "Living with cancer" They don't know that every day is a struggle to maintain some peace of mind. I have been watching my husband fight for his life for almost two years. The second paragraph of your blog today says what I have had in my heart for the past two years............the knowing that one day the battle will be lost and I will have to find the strength and courage to pick up the pieces. I continue to pray for you and this entire blog family. Let's all keep fighting!

Sent by sasha | 9:26 AM ET | 11-26-2007

You're right, Leroy. This is war. I was too soft on those vipers the first time around with breast cancer in 1988. I had to convince myself to go through chemo. I transformed the chemo into a cleansing wash throughout my body to get rid of any impurities. Then, nineteen years later, those vipers reappeared on my right pleura. Believe me, I'm using war imagery now. This diagnosis happened after I started reading your blog when the Discovery Channel featured you. You don't suppose reading your blog is carcinogenic, do you?

Sent by cn | 9:29 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Larry, I appreciate your wondering if there is other language to describe what you are dealing with. Our language says a lot about how we see the world and how we want the world to be. This blog opens the door to discussing this HUGE issue.

I, too have strggled to overcome cancer these past 6 years. In fact, I leave for CT Scans in a few minutes. Yet I did not use war analogyies, or even fighting analgoies when explaining my cancer to others.

The language we use to descirbe dealing iwth cancer is the same language we use before we got the cancer. Since you were a war correspondent, I am not surprised at your choice of words to describe your encounter with cancer. As a Quaker, I find that I have other ways to describe my experiences, mostly because that is how I live my life.

Sure there are doctors and nurses and even drug companies who provide resources to help us heal from our illness. I found that spritiual aid is also needed to handle the pain and fear that cancer struggles entail.

For those of us who want to learn non violent ways of talking and writing, I recommend a book by Marhsall Resenberg, called "Non Violent Communication: A Language of Life" and a website WWW.CVNC.ORG (Center for Noviolent Communication.

For those of us who want to get out of the "war" business and find a more peaceful way of handling the pain and greief that comes our way. War is not the answer". All war seems to do is create more wars.

Holding you, Leroy, in the Healing Light.

Sent by Free Polazzo | 9:37 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy
Fighting a staph infection makes the cancer look secondary. It reminds me of one of your earlier articles where you mentioned that having cancer doesn't shield us from other problems, i.e. a leaky roof, bills to pay and other illnesses.
I am beginning to hate the TV commercial where a person says, I beat Cancer, another say I beat cancer and the the last person says You can beat cancer. I want to believe this but during chemo days the road seems to just keep getting longer.

I admire your courage and look forward each day to reading your Blog.
Mary S.

Sent by Mary Scruggs | 9:38 AM ET | 11-26-2007

sasha, I'm in the same boat 3 years in with my husband. He's a Viet Nam veteran, and this feels like nothing so much as "Vietnamization." He will not be cured, it's chronic. So, it is a war and a particularly modern war with a long series of battles, and pyrrhic victories and the taking and retaking of hills. Apocalypse Now wouldn't be the worst analogy. Sorry for the downer, but it's a rough time in this house.

Sent by Teri | 9:41 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy -

I feel like I'm lacing up my jungle boots each morning - and I don't see anything wrong with that. Keep fighting; it comes down to whatever works for you, not for others!

Sent by Tom | 10:04 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I see my onc today and will start my 10th round of a chemo pill tomorrow. In a month I will have a PET. I've done so well, so far, with a treatment that can only buy me time, not offer a cure.
I have teens and it seems like holidays really suck with the added pressure that this could be my last!Though I look normal, and feel okay a lot of the time, I know they are aware of mom's prognosis.
I am one that doesn't like war analogies, but, hell, it does seem like one is being invaded by a force that needs to be suppressed, held back,stopped at all costs. I really hate that!!
That staff infection must be unbearable considering what you are already dealing with. I have had staff before. Sounds like you have some great doctors. Good for you. I hope you can continue with your walks soon. Sending out support to you and yours.

Sent by NancyGM | 10:29 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I can't even imagine getting elective surgery, much less elective plastic surgery, after being through the cancer ordeal. Now that I know some of the things that can go wrong in hospitals, I would not want to spend one non urgent moment in one! So no face lift, tummy tuck, brow lift and so forth for me. Cancer was quite enough. I did pass my colonoscopy this year, BTW. So I have some breathing room for the first time in a year. Best wishes. carol

Sent by carol irvin | 10:38 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Hey Leroy:
you are in my prayers daily. I just finished my 2 1/2 year check an have no active cancer. Radiologists has said that maybe next year he can stop seeing me and turn over my check ups mainly with the GYN Onocologist. To be honest I have never gone thru anything like some of you except for the day that they told me I had Endomentrial cancer.
Keep up the good work and as always I read your blog every day. Thanks for helping those of us with cancer.

Sent by Lois | 10:41 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Sending "fighting" energy your way!!!

Sent by Sarah | 10:50 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Dear Leroy,

Sorry it's been some time since I've written, but you have remained in my thoughts everyday. It's just that damned cancer has pushed itself back into my life. Not me, this time, but my mother's husband. He's a grand old man, just turned 87, and Friday underwent surgery to remove a brain tumor. Very aggressive, apparently, and they have given him up to a year to live. If I know Vic like I think I do, he will live out his time in grand style, enjoying every single second. Vic and my mother were high school sweethearts. They each went different ways and married and had families then, when my dad died of metastatic prostate cancer, Vic got back in touch with my mother. They married three years ago at the age of 83 and have had a ball. It's funny how this disease insinuates itself into our lives...it takes people away, it brings them together, it takes them away again. Damn.

Sorry to ramble on but knew you and the other bloggers would understand.

As for plastic surgeons, they are the best! Mine has brought me back to almost like new. Where there was nothing but scars, he has created a masterpiece.

Hope the drain comes out soon.

Best,
Mo

Sent by Mo Spikes | 10:59 AM ET | 11-26-2007

yes, you are fighting indeed. And doing an excellent job of it.

Sent by DiAnn | 11:13 AM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy, you are sounding more like your old self. You are so fortunate to have the Dr's that you do, that help you with this battle on cancer as well as the staff infection. Just keep on fighting. We are all right along side of you and in back of you.

My husband who has stage IV lung cancer was admitted to the hospitol on Saturday with pneumonia for about the 4th time in 18 months. He too has had to fight through Sepsis infection along the way so we too know what fighting is all about. And we will continue to fight this battle with everything we have! This weekend as he was admitted through emergency, the Dr. in charge after checking my husband asked that same old question that I always know is necessary but always dread hearing "do you have a living will or dnr instructions on file with us". That is such a frightening question at such a time. But at least this time the Dr. turned and quietly asked me this rather than my husband. I could have hugged him for being so sensitive.

Sasha, I do understand where you and other care givers are at. It is really hard to see our loved ones suffer. And yes I do know we will eventually lose this battle but while we are in it we will give all weve got.

Thanks Leroy for giving me a good place to vent this morning. You all give me and so many strength to keep fighting the battles. My prayers are always with all of you.

Sent by dorothy in oregon | 11:52 AM ET | 11-26-2007

I've been reading your blog for a long time. Does the pace of it all surprise you? The plodding along -doctor to doctor, medical procedure to medical procedure. Isn't it strange how your job/life becomes fighting for your life. I know you must have pockets of time to do other things/think about other things when you feel well enough. However, it is interesting how little control we have over deciding what to do or how to do it. Rather, as humans we seem to just persevere on the path that fate gives us.

I'm thinking about you and hoping for the best.

Sent by Kami | 12:22 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy:

War and fight are OK by me. From the "other side" meaning after the battle is lost, our family feels just like the people look on TV in the World War II films after a bombing. My house looks much the same as I don't feel much like deep cleaning or moving any of Burge's things. I'm not as bad as Steve Irwin's wife (Croc Hunter) and have at least removed the toothbrushes and the like, but everything else is just as Burge left it.

We made it though Thanksgiving. In fact, it was rather pleasant with out of town relatives...didn't send much time with Burge's family so we were kind of sheltered from day to day reality. This morning, however, everyone is in great depression. The oldest sent his hired man off on the truck and went back to bed and the youngest has a stomach ache and stayed home from school. I find myself just wondering around the house telling myself it't time to put it behind us and get to work, but I haven't been very successful.

My thoughts today are with Sasha and Teri. Love those guys of yours a little extra today. If Brian is still here, hope things went well for you too. I think of you and your first holidays also.

Nikki

Sent by Nikki | 12:29 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Hi Leroy, Yes, staph likes to hang out and make us VERY ILL - I went through that - without the cancer, and it took quite a while - but I won my battle - as I pray to G-d you will also. I pray that you are not in too much discomfort and/or pain and all of those good people are taking care of you. G-d bless you. Jan

Sent by Janice Goldberg White | 12:33 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Keep it up Leroy. Those infections are a pain. I was always paranoid working in the hospital and going through treatment. I wouldn't even drink the water from a hospital faucet. Luckily, the doc's are very good at getting rid of them. I'm always thinking of you.

Sent by Lisa | 12:54 PM ET | 11-26-2007

What an apt metaphor the doc used for a man used to working in war zones! And while your body is fighting off staph germs, I hope you yourself feel more than just the fighting for your life -- epic as that part of it all is. Thich Nhat Han's words came to mind when I read your closing words, and I pass them on now with love, with fierce support, and with celebration for your life: "Please enjoy your breath."

Sent by Sarah | 1:19 PM ET | 11-26-2007

No human in the history of the world has ever won the war against death. Although we will all ultimately lose the war, we can each win battle after battle and delay death's victory by as long as possible.

Eventually, death will win out, at which time I hope to surrender with peace and dignity, knowing I did my best.

In the meantime, I plan on fighting like hell. Hang in there, Leroy.

Sent by Karole Ives | 1:45 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Your comment about plastic surgery reminded me - prior to my diagnosis I was sure I was going to have some cosmetic procedure to lift my sagging jowls and cheeks. Nowadays I look in the mirror and think I look pretty good, considering everything I've been through. Funny how your perspective changes.
I personally like the war/fight analogy - somehow terms like skirmish, bout, and tussle just don't do it justice.
It really sucks that you got the staph infection on top of everything else - I hope you are through the worst of it and will improve dramatically before Christmas!

Sent by Marcia Greer | 1:58 PM ET | 11-26-2007

After seeing blood-drained faces when told of my cancer, though of myself as a walking dead.
After mediport and chemo, now feel like a juiced zombie.
Death prediction? ... One per person?

Sent by Viennese | 2:18 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy, Your post today reminds me of something I wrote to years ago. I'm off to my third cyberknife treatment in a few minutes and whether it is just the next step along my journey or the next battle in my cancer war, it's an experience I won't soon forget. Glad everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving!

"The words "you have cancer" are life altering, but they should never be allowed to define you. You must define them.

I first heard these words just over seven years ago (now nine years ago) when I was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer at the age of 31. In the beginning I used the words battle, fight, and war quite frequently. Every test, treatment, and consultation felt like an onslaught of artillery, and I deemed the tumors taking up post in my body as the hated enemy. I wasn't positive that the mental ammunition I needed for the defense was in itself not being inhabited by a traitor. Even now my doctors refer to my body as a land mine waiting for sudden detonation.

As time passed and cancer and I continued to coincide, I slowly began to soften the metaphor from that of a battlefield to a never-ending roller-coaster ride. The ride began at diagnosis and the twists, turns, dips, and dives became the many challenges that I encountered along the way. With a "terminal" diagnosis I started to relish the straight and narrow portions of the ride as they represented stability of the disease. But for as long as the ride rolls forward, so too, does life.

The next phase that I entered saw the cancer experience as the dawning of an incredible journey. To this day, it is a journey that has heaven as a destination dotted with many different paths and directions. Each direction changes the course of the future but never the end result. I've finally discovered that there are no wrong turns along the way because the trip is ultimately my own. I can make it into whatever I desire. Whether I decide to make the trip challenging by searching for options and treatments outside of the normal realm of my disease, or as simple as possible by staying on the accepted path, is totally up to me. I can choose to trudge forward or to simply be. At times, I can do both. No matter which direction the path leads I know my ultimate decision is to walk in beauty and balance.

I now view cancer as a personal enhancement to my life. It has become a wake-up call to enlightenment and self-discovery. I will never be able to go back to a life without cancer for it has left a permanent mark. The reality of colon cancer has forced me to live outside of my comfort zone by accepting that tomorrow is never promised and that today is a gift.

I have discovered that the phrase I loathed the most - "you are terminal" - holds no special meaning for people with cancer. Each and every one of us was born with only one certainty: death.No one is more or less terminal than the other. It is a notion that is ignored and forgotten as everyday activities are pursued.

Unfortunately, by pushing one of the most beautiful and peaceful of life transitions into a dark corner we neglect the important things in life, busying ourselves with plans far into the future. We lose sight of the rising sun and the melting moon, the freshness of the morning dew or the wonder of a rainbow. We forget that hope is ever-present.

I hold close the fact that my second most despised phrase -"there is no hope" - is a misconception. When someone feels there is no hope, it is nothing more than an opinion, whether it comes from a well-meaning physician or the closest of friends. I own the key to my hope and that can never be taken away.

So gently nudged and sometimes violently pummeled by the cancer experience I am encouraged to inspire and instill hope, to embrace the present, and to live wholly. I have been awakened to the fragility of each passing second and the splendor in every moment. By discovering my weaknesses and building on my strengths I can simply be thankful for now.

I have discovered that cancer, as a metaphor, is life. It is what I make of it."

Sent by Suzanne Lindley | 2:20 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy et al....

I do understand some dilike or even despise the analogy of it being a "war"... but no matter how you slice and dice it.... it is very much a fight!!

I think the bigger issue is the idea of "winning or losing" and a connotation that if someone secumbs to the disease that they somehow "lost the battle or gave up or let others down"

Personally I believe we are all SURVIVORS from the day of diagnosis.. just some of us survive longer than others.. I am a 32 year survivor and have faced being told I would not...

I believe that even if we secumb to the disease that we have in fact "won"...

First and perhaps most simplisticly.. if we die.. so does the cancer and therefore we "WIN"...

Spiritually I believe when death overcomes us (as it will for all of us at some point in time regardless of any disease).. we do pass over to "the other side".. and the other side is a MUCH better place... without the pain and suffering.. and so once again we have WON and beaten the pain and suffering

The cancer CAN NOT "WIN"!!! And if the cancer can not win.. then by default, if nothing else, we can not "lose"...

I do not have any issues with what ever analogy you wish to use (and yes I have long used the battle or war analogy)... cancer is a fight we can not lose... either way we ultimately win!!

Of course at this point in time I would rather win by remaining here on earth... but I do not fear "death".. only the suffering and withering away and leaving loved ones behind.......

Whether anyone wants to hear it or not... there comes a point when it is OKAY to accept it and move on to the "other side" and this is NOT giving up nor losing any battle or any weakness.. it is reality

I think we should not get hung up on the words we use and focus on the positive and celebrating LIFE as best we can

I celebrate your life Leroy... a life in which you have brought so much comfort and camraderie to so many and long may you continue to do so

I celebrate the life of each and everyone who visits here or comments here

I celebrate all those who have already passed over to the other side

I celebrate the life of all the loved ones who have and may continue to suffer the ravages of this disease

I for one will continue to fight for each and every person affected by this disease.. I will do what ever I can to give hope where there is none otherwise.. I will do what I can to console those fighting their own battles and those of their loved ones

Call it what you will.... we are all in this together...............

Sent by Ron Bye (NH) | 2:36 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Dear Leroy and Friends,

After reading all the other posts, I was struck, like some others, about how our backgrounds, upbringings, and career choices affect the way we view the things that happen to us. Having family in the military, "fighting" cancer just seems natural, and "kicking it's butt" is right behind it. (no pun intended) It's a very comfortable analogy to me. However, I have so much respect for the others who have less violent ways, more peaceful ways to think about it, and write about it and deal with it. I wish I could feel that way, but I can't. Not any time soon. Yes, Death is inevitable, War is Hell, and somebody always loses, but sometimes we WIN. Where would we be today without all the men who gave their lives on Normandy Beach and other battlefields? Where would I be without The Lord? I think we all have our ways of coping and rationalizing, but in all of us, the human spirit, bolstered by our own particular methods of assistance, will always "fight" to survive. I don't see anyone I know lying down and waiting for cancer to just step all over them anytime soon.
I admire your spirit. Keep fighting, in whatever way you need to do it. At the same time, peace (within yourself) and blessings as you gird yourself for battle!

Prayers for comfort and healing for everyone, as always.

Sent by Connie E. | 3:13 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Oops! I had a typo on the website I listed earlier with where you can find informatoin on non violent communications. It should read: www.cnvc.org Sorry.

My trip to the CT Scan place was fairly routine. It has been 6 years since I went into "remission". The technician looked at my form and said "You could be running this place". I said, "No, Thanks! You havef to see all these folks and I just have to deal with me. You've got the toughest job."

Blessings to all who are "wrestling with G-D" (My term for the word "Warfare" most people on this blog seem to use.

Free

Sent by Free Polazzo | 3:42 PM ET | 11-26-2007

I've always told myself when I learned of my cancer that , "this is a fight to the death." Although this is sad, I also find humor in it. I also think that it sounds very epic which makes me feel like a crusader. I guess what ever makes you comfortable is appropriate. I've learned that we must be sensitive to how our loved ones feel about our cancer, but ultimately we are the ones with the actual disease and if we are coping in our own special way others around us have a better chance of coping well with it too.
Leroy - keep the lights on, the party is not over yet!

Sent by Jen Barad | 3:45 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Looking good and feeling good are both good signs. Let's hope you continue to get better, and fast.

Sent by Scott S. | 3:57 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Dear Leroy and others,
Aren't we all fighting to live every day(with or without cancer)? The drive to and from work trying to avoid the drivers coming over on your side, going outside trying to get some fresh air and breathing the harmful fumes hanging in the air, drinking the water with all the additives to make it safe for consumption, same with eating the food from the grocery store (additives), taking our medicines (prescribed by the Drs) and all the harmful side effects they cause. So, even if we are in cancer world or caregivers in cancer world, or just out there living, we are all in a fight for our lives every day. Let's keep on fighting and try to enjoy each day the best that we can. God Bless

Sent by Teresa in WV | 4:34 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Leroy,

A few years ago, my brother had knee surgery and developed a staph infection that nearly killed him. He wore a device that pumped antibiotics into his system for MONTHS. He has diabetes which made it harder to fight the bugs. Your cancer has perhaps compromised you in a similar way. The point is that it takes longer to cure the infection if you're not in great shape. But it can be done. Blessings.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 4:43 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Prayers, prayers, prayers, Leroy. Our hearts go out to you.

Sent by Connie Brown, College station, TX | 4:54 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Keep the fight going. My prayers are with you. I am thankful for the help you have given us all.
Sending strong thoughts..

Sent by anne lumberger | 5:12 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Second for today....if accepted.

I have not seen anything from Stephanie D lately, is there any news to share. I have seen a post lately, or have I just not been reading carefully.

Thanks to anyone who can fill a gap.

Sent by Susan Chap | 6:00 PM ET | 11-26-2007

I once used the term 'cancer shrapnel' to describe my various surgical scars when talking to my doctor. Between gall bladder removal, 2 breast surgeries and one lobectomy with chest tubes - all in about 3 years- my torso 'art' seems to suggest that 'war' is an apt analogy.
Be well!

Sent by Sandy Fisher | 6:10 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Hi Leroy,

You and your post have been on my mind all day. A heavy weight. You are traveling through very difficult territory. My heart goes out to you, my spirit sends you strength and caring. Finally, here is what my thoughts have landed on that I want to share with you: Pema Chodran's book: PEACE IN A TIME OF WAR. (Maybe the title is "Finding Peace in a Time of War?!?") I would send it to you if I knew where to send it so it would get to you. But someone, somewhere, or you could order it from some internet site, maybe also along with Lucille Clifton's book MERCY. (she's a poet who has had her share of struggles with illnesses and cancer.) So, if there is a way for me to send these to you, let me know via my email. You are in my prayers, and I hold on to the belief and vision that as a world/planet/community we are beginning the transformation into healing and living, and that fighting and wars will be ancient history. Your life is so immensely large and touching and healing out here in this world right now. I'm glad you are "fighting" for it, and I will be glad when we have other analogies than wars and fighting to use for the transformation process from illness to wellness.

Heartlight and peace,
(to you & Laurie)

Kim Blankenship

Sent by Kim Blankenship | 7:59 PM ET | 11-26-2007

I am not certain that today's posts are of a positive nature, nor very good for the healing spirit. Why should the day after the giving of thanks for our blessings become so gloomy and depressing? Is it the thought that we are in a battle which we cannot win?
I don't think that this is a healthy path to be persuing. Leroy, your walk with Ted did you much more good even if it were shorter than you had remembered. You are not waging or losing a battle. This is life and you are on a path. For a while there, you sounded like you were going further down that path once again.

Sent by J C R | 8:12 PM ET | 11-26-2007

Sometimes, and for some of us, thinks aren't all that positive, J C R. Not everyone here is in a place where cancer can be beaten, and laid to rest. That can be depressing and gloomy, especially at a holiday time when others are celebratory. Please don't squash the voices of those who are so afflicted.

Sent by Teri | 8:01 AM ET | 11-27-2007

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

 
 

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