Dear Leroy,
You sound so very down this morning. I reflect back when you said we have one foot in the normal world and one foot in our world, the cancer world, where there are new surprises and changes each day. For those of us that are strong and hopeful , change is encouraging. But for those like myself and I'm sure may others, change is threatening because it means that things could get worse. I ask myself every day " Where will I be a year from now?" Hopefully, "The guys in the basement" will come up with something. I hope you get over your depression........it's not a nice feeling. I have managed to survive with the help of antidepressants; I don't know if I would have been emotionally strong enough to do it on my own. Be well my friend and have a nice weekend.

Sent by sasha | 8:06 AM ET | 11-16-2007

I sincerely hope and pray you will be writing yet another "reflection on years gone by" and helping so many with your words.......

It is a rainy fall day in NH.. a good day to reflect....

Sent by Ron Bye (NH) | 8:10 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Cancer really stinks. What else can be said? You have had to deal with so much. I hope you will be able to sleep better now that some of your drains are out. Your readers really care about you. Hope you will have a good weekend and continue to improve.

Sent by jen | 8:22 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Hmmm, where will any of us be in a year from now? No one knows what the crystal ball has in store for us.

Two years ago, had someone told me sister would still be alive, I would have laughed in their face and sarcastically said, "Who are you kidding?" Things were different for our family. I was having meltdown after meltdown, if I didn't know better I would have thought I was bipolar, really. My sister could barely get out of a chair and certainly could not nourish herself, our father was reeling from the news his oldest daughter may not outlive him. We thought it was our last Thanksgiving and Christmas the three of us would have. The normal sequence of life was way out of kilter.

This year, ok so normal nourishment for my sister still is out sight, and I don't know whether it will ever be normal again. She is more self-sufficient and even surprises me when she offers to help me with small things that do take time when I am running with work. My life is a calmer, more normal, weekends away from my house, the baby monitor is stored somewhere, the walkie talkies are left uncharged. Our dad, will be 90 next year, and although, I doubt if he will ever fully recover from this, life goes on. He plays cards two times a week, and continues to read everything he puts his hands on. Life achieves a new normalcy.

What do we know about a year from now, that is a year from now and no one knows for sure what will happen or where we will be. Perhaps the sun will continue to rise and set, the moon and stars will be there, just maybe we will not continue to lose precious resources or animals from the face of the earth and the war will be a thing of the past.

Heads up Leroy, keep looking ahead, it still keeps us going every single day.

Sent by Sue Chap | 8:26 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy - the one thing my breast cancer experience taught me thru surgeries, chemo, radiation and all.....was that for every bad, dark day - there's a better day ahead.......I tried to tell myself that any bad 24 hours would end when the sun went down and the next day would be better, different and hopefully brighter - most of the time it really was that way!!!
I'm betting that a year from now - you will have just completed a wonderful Halloween party and some far-out costume that you created.......and will be looking forward to a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday and enjoying the fall view out the window.......
Rest and heal my friend.....peace to you...

Sent by Ruth Chermok | 8:44 AM ET | 11-16-2007

My thoughts and prayers are with you. I hope you are able to find some bit of joy in this day. As positive as you usually are, I am sure you will.

Sent by Lori | 8:44 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy,

I can relate to every word you say so well. Amazing to hear a lot of my thoughts written!!

A slippery slope does get depressing at times. Going to work every day was so much easier. Waiting to see what cancer is doing is hard enough, but I know dealing with infection makes it more difficult.

I am scheduled for scans again on Dec. 2nd. I just keeping praying for more time!! I pray for you and our entire cancer family.

Love to all,
Betty Lewis

Sent by Betty Lewis | 8:48 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Mr Sievers, Today's post was so beautifully written and was very helpful for me. I'm one of your readers who lost someone I love this year. We are still missing him every single day. Losing someone I love did help me to re-focus on and appreciate what matters. Even so, from time to time, I get caught back up in stress and work stuff like the you of 3 years ago. It's good to be reminded every once in a while to stay focused on what I cherish. Today's blog did that for me, and I thank you.

I hope we all virtually celebrate this blog entry a year from now because you are exactly where and how you want to be. As the saying goes, there is a time and a purpose for every season and with Thanksgiving approaching, it feels right to remember that there is so much to appreciate about life even on the coldest, cloudiest, saddest day.

Healing vibes to you as always - I wish you well and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the good you are doing as you struggle with this whole thing.

Sent by Your Virtual Friend, Nichole in FL | 9:28 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy
I understand exactly what you are saying. There are times when the fear of the future makes it difficult to breathe. Then I take your advice and look out the window and say thanks for this day. I doesn't always work but sometimes it keeps the mind from racing too far ahead. Thanks for saying what we're all thinking. Hope the sun is shining today.

Sent by Miriam | 9:32 AM ET | 11-16-2007

One place I know you will be a year from now, just as you are now, is in our hearts and minds.

Sent by Sandi Li | 9:32 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Well, LeRoy, if it makes you feel any better, a year past colon cancer, I have to take my next colonoscopy today. Yesterday was my "prep" day and it was as hideous, as usual. By midnight I had a raging headache, which I still have. I got very little sleep. I haven't eaten since Wednesday. In another hour we will be in the car and heading in for the exam. I still have the headache and I am in the worst temper possible. That said, if my results come out better than last year's (colon cancer, surgery and chemo), all will be forgotten and I am sure I will be feeling a LOT better. In any event, this seems to be a day to day process for me, not a year to year. Today, I sure am looking forward to eating something later today and being rid of this godawful, pounding headache. Best Wishes, Carol

Sent by carol irvin | 9:42 AM ET | 11-16-2007

We are having a cold November rain, today in Boston. The dreamy, poetic kind of day - you know what I mean. Here's a haiku:

rain on autumn leaves
looking around, too busy
sunset already

Sent by emile | 9:42 AM ET | 11-16-2007

That seems to be the burning question when cancer strikes.
Leroy, I won't even pretend to know what you are going through, But, please know you are in my thoughts & in my prayers.

Hang in there........

Sent by lisa | 9:46 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Oh Leroy,
Do I ever identify with your thoughts and words today. Don't look back, enjoy today.
Where I live, it's a beautiful sunny, but windy day. A bit chilly. The leaves are so beautiful, they bring tears to my eyes. This past summer I wondered if I'd see them. We've all had friends that get diagnosed and then they are gone in a month or two. But then there are others of us who go on, differently but still on. It's difficult to let go of the old self. The naive carefree self.
In your previous capacity as a network executive I'm sure you influenced many people, but just think how profound your influence is now.

Sent by Joan F | 9:52 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy, Good Morning! Yes, you sound reflective and this Autumn weather does do that to us all. It is very dismal, windy, cold, and Fallish here in VA today.
I used to be able to sit and paint or sketch whever I was depressed and the hours would fly by 'cause I got lost in the World I was creating. Since my stroke and loss of partial vision, I have not done anything. I must push myself but it makes my eyes hurt. Oh well ~ Leroy you must get out of the Cancer syndrome and realize that you have started a brand, new, phase of your life. After all, we cannot go back nor should we. Like the old movies we remember as being so great - seen through today's eyes, they often seem rather "hacknied and amaturish" don't they? Let's deal with the hand we have been dealt and make something out of it we can be proud of.
YOU are doing that, I believe, and I look to YOU to light the pathway into the new world of living with parts of our old world interfused with our more fragile, stroke/cancer tinged world.
Shall miss you the next few days - try to enjoy them a bit with your loved ones and remember, we are SO glad to have you back with us.

Sent by J C R | 9:58 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Good Morning, Leroy,
I was trying to explain to one of my myriad of doctors that I didn't feel depressed but I cried too easily and too much. She asked me if I had given myself permission to mourn the life I had expected but would not have? the losses of the past year and the changes in my life that I never wanted? maybe you have a right to be down today...you've been through a lot. Just ask someone to warm some chocolate cookies in the microwave (house will smell wonderful) and sit and be warm. When your physical pain improves, as it will, your natural sense of yourself will be there too. You are a strong man but even so, take some time to mourn.

...and the brain MRI is worrisome so we are repeating it.

Sent by glenda | 9:58 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Nothing like sinking down to the depths. I'm with you Leroy.

Yesterday the doc put me back on oxicodone for the hip pain and scripts for morphine if I need it. Ugh...

I had a MRI last night. He will call me with the results this morning.

I was up most of the night. I am trying to keep my spirits up, but right now it just isn't working. Too much pain. The thought that I might have this pain for the rest of my life makes it hard for me to be optimistic this morning.

We have 17 people coming for Thanksgiving and I suspect I'll be on the sofa watching everyone else do all the work. Last year I was on the sofa, too.

I have to remember that at least I'm here and I'll be surrounded by my wonderful family. I need to let them love me and take care of me. And they will. How blessed I am, even with this ugly cancer.

Sent by Laurel M. Jones | 10:04 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Good Morning Leroy,
Here in WV the sun is shining on the multicolored tree leaves melting last nights frost away. I wish you could see it......a wonderful work of art. Keep looking up my friend and feel the warmth of the sun on your face.....good days are ahead. God Bless

Sent by Teresa in WV | 10:04 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy, my heart goes out to you. This whole cancer process can be so depressing. Last year I headed to our famiily Thanksgiving (50 people) thinking it would probably be the last time I would see these people. With the diagnosis of Stage 4 Kidney cancer, my original doctor's predication was a few months to live. New medicine now has me looking forward to that Thanksgiving celebration with new found joy. Side effects of medication has me somewhat limited, but I was still able to bake the cookies, breads and pies for the celebration. I've gone through the low black times and the precious joyful times that this disease brings forth. Next year will I still be here? I don't know. But today I am. Today I celebrate. Joys and black times, focus on the joys, Leroy, if you can. Otherwise, just realize the joys will come again. My prayers and thoughts are with you. May God hold you in His arms and give you peace.

Sent by Jackie | 10:18 AM ET | 11-16-2007

A year from now, I just want you here with us.

Sent by Sandra Mann | 10:19 AM ET | 11-16-2007

This whole process does stink. What keeps me going is that I've had a wonderful life compared to the children I work with stricken with the same disease.

Sent by Lisa | 10:24 AM ET | 11-16-2007

A beautiful and glorious day to all of you! It has been an incredible week for me. Reading your post this morning brought tears to my eyes as I know how hard it is to wonder about the future and sometimes even dread the next step, but hope for it as well. You said yesterday that there is a rhythm to cancer. Those words are so true and for those of us that are furtunate enough to continue with treatments and procedures and to benefit from the extra moments they provide, that rhythm often becomes a silent mantra that helps to energize us and propel us forward. Monday I had fiducials implanted into my pancreas for an upcoming treatment with CyberKnife. If I sound excited, it is because I am. Not long ago, this treatment wouldn't have even been considered as a possibility. Because of research and creativity, it is not only a procedure that will potentially buy me a great deal of hope and time, but one that may benefit many of you as well. I have worried and prayed about this process, however, it turned out to be relatively easy. It is incredible to realize that in just over a week I will have turned another corner along this cancer journey. The placement of "magic markers", the development of a cradle, and a few zaps of radiation later will bring me one step closer to the ever elusive cure. Who woulda thunk nine years ago that this would be possible? I'm sure there would have been medical skeptics nine months ago and even nine weeks ago. Yet here I am, savoring the magic of this procedure - knowing that the best part of my day is yet to come when my husband walks through the door from work and that tomorrow will start out perfectly with the chatter of my girls and the promise of muchness ahead. Life, and living fully, are an incredible experience.

There are days when I think that I take little for granted and then there are days like today when I know there is much more wonder to hold. Every breath provides a miracle - the surrounding freshness in the air, the smell of rain, the grandiosity of fall colors, and the hope that continues to manifest. Friends call, family gathers, kids hover and I know that I am truly lucky and that in spite of a disease that is trying hard to define my life; I am instead defining it - just as so many of us do each day. And the journey continues........next year, well, I hope that we are all giant leaps closer to the cure. Blessings to you, Leroy.

Sent by Suzanne Lindley | 10:25 AM ET | 11-16-2007

I think, once again Leroy, you've put your finger on one of life's great questions. Why do we so often fail to appreciate the wonder when our lives are carefree and divine? It is indeed a mystery! Have a peaceful weekend. Anita

Sent by Anita Solomon | 10:34 AM ET | 11-16-2007

As hard as it is to think right now, please have faith that God is taking you where you need to go Leroy.

As we were going through and since we have lost our 26 year old son to cancer two and a half months ago, we too have been trying to figure out what God is trying to teach us or what path he wants us to take, but one thing we truly believe is that he has given us this pain in this life to make us look to Him and know it is Him and His love that is what we need and not to fret about things that truly don't matter.

Be kind to yourself Leroy and remember, one day at a time.

Judy

Sent by Judy Voller | 10:35 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Nothing wrong with admitting depression in the midst of a depressing and frustrating situation. Good advice may be "one day at a time" or broken down even further "one minute at a time." Having said that, and considering all your body has been through, there is no reason to not treat the depression with medicine. To a cancer patient that sometimes feels like admitting that we have yet another issue our body can't conquer, but the goal is to feel better and more like ourselves. Praying for you everyday. Thanks for sharing all your emotions.

Sent by Judy Van Lishout | 10:37 AM ET | 11-16-2007

A year from now I hope to be reading what you have to say. My prayers are with you.

Sent by Geoff | 10:46 AM ET | 11-16-2007

TODAY! Live Today. Try and stay with TODAY!

Warmth and Light to you
Sondra from Montana

Sent by Sondra | 10:53 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy~ you sound like me, you want to know and be in control of your future. My life in in limbo right now too but not due to health issues. And its been that way for 8 months. I don't know where I will be next year either. But I know it won't be where I am now. So I do understand the wondering.

Sent by DiAnn | 10:55 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy: I lost my husband to sclc in April 2007- and I look back at to what we were doing last year - fighting the beast. We had a Wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas last year....I know he is in a better place.....it's just those left behind to face the future. Just know that where ever you are next year at this time, is exactly where you are suspose to be!!!! Love, Prayers and Blessings

Sent by Joan, Va. | 11:05 AM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy,
Ditto to what Sandi Li said. No matter what happens you will be here in our hearts and minds. No one is guaranteed tomorrow - I've certainly learned that
in a very personal way the last two years. So, we give ourselves time to mourn the losses and appreciate the time we are here and curse the bad, sad days.

Be well, Leroy, this too shall pass,(sorry for all the cliches but damn if they aren't true)

Lianne

Sent by Lianne Friedman | 12:21 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy,
I guess all of us do that "looking back, looking forward" thing, wondering how much future remains for us. My diagnosis came about the same time yours did, so as that anniversary approaches, I've been having similar thoughts and also feeling some depression. Actually, it's not exactly depression so much as just emotional volatility. I cry at the beauty of the leaves and at the prospect of seeing my son after so long apart -- and then of saying goodbye again in a few days. Two years ago, just days before my mom's death and Thanksgiving 2005 and finding the lump in my breast, I was blithely unaware, fully expecting to live well into my 90's. Then last year at this time, I was beginning to get just a little fuzz back on my head, even though I would continue getting Herceptin intravenously for another six months. I looked shell-shocked probably, after the shocking diagnosis, surgery, many months of chemo, radiation, etc.. People were still tiptoeing and treating me like an invalid. This year, I look just like everybody else. My life is busy; nobody seems to remember the cancer. But inside? I know now that nothing is promised. Maybe there will not be another Thanksgiving for me, or you, or a lot of others on this blog. But I know now that nothing is certain, either! A couple of weeks ago, I went to a fundraising dinner for Save Ourselves, a breast cancer support group in the Sacramento area, and found myself sitting at a table with two women who have had metastatic cancer for years. The woman next to me has had bone mets for 12 years! I imagine she never expected to still be around for all these Thanksgivings.

As so many others have said, I hope next Thanksgiving finds you still kicking, and doing far better than this year. Your words have been a daily inspiration for me.

Sent by Doris | 12:39 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Autumn in Atlanta is lovely. When I was going through my chemo, I really felt cheated because I had missed the whole season. Some things just can't be recovered; but some things can, and I hope that you will someday look back on this as just a bad memory.

Sent by Marilyn Trujillo | 2:02 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy,

I think your blog has taught us to take one day at a time and appreciate life. But I hope a year from now you are sitting on your sofa looking out the window with a margarita in your hand writing this blog!
Take care and enjoy the change of seasons!

Sent by LJ | 2:05 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy, my heart and thoughts are with you today. Some days it is really hard to pull yourself upwards. That sun shine really helps me. The days that are gray with no sun shine I really have to work at it. I try really hard to not let myself wander too far forward anymore because if I do it can almost be overwhellming. So I try as much as possible to just stay in the present and be thankful for today. I have many talks with God during this time, Believe me it helps.

I am sorry that you and Laurie are having to deal with all this right now. I also want to thank you for shareing your inner feelings with us. These feelings have been felt by so many but of course you think you are the only one feeling this at the time. It helps to realise that someone else shares those thoughts too.

Please try to have a restful and good weekend. Let that body heal. I will remember both you and Laurie in my prayers.

ps: to Al Cato, Thank you also for your posts. I always look for them as they make me also feel better, very uplifting. I am sure that Leroy and Laurie, as well as others find a lot of depth to them. Thank you.

Sent by dorothy in oregon | 2:39 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy and All,

The comments today are especially beautiful, and it helps to know how others deal with the things that keep me up at night. As has been said, none of us knows what's coming the next minute; that we're going to be blessed with another beat of our heart - much less a year from now, but we do tend to measure ourselves by seasons, and holidays and happy times we remember before some of our happy carefree bubbles burst and reality came crashing through in the form of this horrible disease. I know you've had some really horrible days, and you're entitled to be down, but let me say, that if courage and strength on your part, and the prayers and love of thousands of people have anything to do with where you are next year..... you'll be just fine. Prayers, love, healing and comfort sent to everyone, always.

Bless you all.

Sent by Connie E. | 2:40 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy,

This next year is going to be one fun ride!! Once you are in the cancer club, even the presidential election does not seem as important. Knowing what we know, we can enjoy the spectacle.
Counting down the 8 weeks!! take care.

Sent by cv | 3:14 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Ah, nothing like a round of what some of my AA and NA friends call "stinkin' thinkin'".

We all, as survivors, are allowed to have our times of sorrow and being sad. The cancer experience is so awful and the treatments so odious...we may, once in a while,sink below the level of finding joy in the simple fact of being alive. After all, life has been replete with pain on physical and emotional levels.

But, one day you will feel a lightness in both body and spirit. I hope that day, filled with hope and a positive outlook comes very soon.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy Miles | 3:32 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Take time now to heal. There will be time to think about next year when you are feeling better this year.

You are in my prayers.

Sent by Marcy in NJ | 4:08 PM ET | 11-16-2007

What a special day of blogs this has been. Leroy you seem to have the ability to bring out the very best in people. Lots of inspiring thoughts and I particularly enjoyed "Suzanne Lindley's" comments. Beautifully done and I will be praying that the treatments for you Pancreas will be a big step toward a cure, as you mentioned. You too, have a wonderful outlook on life.

Sent by J C R | 4:22 PM ET | 11-16-2007

I wish that I had some wisdom to impart and the eloquence you have to express my wisdom. I have neither. I do understand the essence of your blog today. I also know that my prayers will continue in asking God for his grace, mercy and healing power to be visited upon you and bring you peace.

In these dark days, please allow the tiny spark of light deep in your soul to continue to shine. This little light called HOPE will help push back the darkness and renew your spirit.

We are with you each step of this journey trying mightily, with our prayers and good thoughts, to bring you through this tough patch. Lean on us as you need to as we lean on you each day.

Sent by Al Cato | 4:36 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy, I don't know where I'll be a year from now but I hope I'm still here. Last year at this time I was working and feeling good. Been in the hospital since Wed. for shortness of breath and a terrible cough. They tested my blood for every infection, virus, etc. they could think of. They told me I had fluid on my lung.The treatment is a painful needle to draw it out. THen they told me my cancer had spread since JUNE. Every time I get a new symptom or test it's the cancer has spread. So now I'm home on a bunch of antibiotics and prednisone and the BEST part is OXYGEN - guaranteed to make you feel better! Sorry for the down and yours too - AT LEAST I WON'T BE SO COLORFUL. GOD BLESS US ALL.

Sent by Vicki (FL) | 5:15 PM ET | 11-16-2007

There was a time when Robert Frost paused to look out the window. He came up with a little gem of a poem, "Tree at My Window." The last couple stanzas remind me of what you've just written:

But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.

That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.

You can read the full poem at:
http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/288/

Just remember, windows are for looking out, but they are also for looking in. Thanks for letting so many of us look in your window, Leroy, and share your journey.

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

Sent by Carl Wilton | 5:59 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy,
The days are turning darker here in CO, too. It reminds me of the long winter I spent going through surgery,chemo, radiation, etc. It was a very gloomy and sad time in my life. I have since settled back into a "new normal" life and after 8 years I still don't take much for granted. As far as where you or any of us will be next year--we will be where we are supposed to be. It may not be where we think we want to be today but we don't take these journeys alone. Those of us that have traveled this cancer path walk next to each other. We may be unseen but we are always there.

Sent by Jane | 7:16 PM ET | 11-16-2007

One of the things I do to remind myself that God is here and present (especially when I'm feeling a little shaky on that subject) is to go outside and listen to the wind in the trees. It never fails to soothe me. And now I have something else to remind me: It's you and all the scores of people who are daily creating this blog. Something powerful and alive and very, very good is occurring here.

Trusting that the sun will come out again very soon (tomorrow?) to lift your spirits.

Sent by Janice J. , Los Angeles | 7:29 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy, Sometimes the days just drag, you sound down today. You know no one has a guaranty of where they will be in a year, or even in a day. It's all one day at a time. These times, when you feel sick, wear you down so much. I can understand where you are right now, not the best place. Please, stay positive, you help so many with your words. Have a better day tomorrow!!! Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 7:36 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Dear Leroy...My money is on you...better than ever...no doubt in my mind...you and Laurie are in my thoughts and prayers every day...Fondly...Ann Pat Forde

Sent by Ann Patrice Forde | 8:11 PM ET | 11-16-2007

So easy for me to say, don't worry about next year.
How about just living today and taking it one day at a time. Next week is Thanksgiving. There's always something to be thankful for. Hope tomorrow is peaceful.

Sent by Rochelle Cisneros | 8:15 PM ET | 11-16-2007

hi leroy sorry to hear that you dont feel upbeat these days.we are hear to lift you up and be there through our prayers.we are all love you and wish you a speedy recovery soon.

Sent by yohannes&arsema | 8:19 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Cancer robs us of our illusions. But, on a lighter note, Leroy, there was almost a fire in the OR during my most recent procedure (I actually had a tiny burn)so I came close to going out in a blaze of glory!! Salee

Sent by sajenkins | 8:32 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Leroy --

I have been reading this blog for some time. I must say, your struggle with cancer has touched my life. At the same time, I have been dealing with my own struggle in supporting my husband through his illness.

Sadly, he died October 22nd. His disease was depression. Due to his history, his prognosis was poor. His illness, to everyone's best understanding, was terminal. Every year with him, I wondered where we'd be -- if he'd be there for the next. Every year with him, I found myself amazed with where we were; with who we were.

I read your column and I am grateful. I read your column and I know that the words you speak somehow reflect his struggle. A valiant struggle for life.

I know that struggle inside and out. Reading yours helps me feel that ours was a bit more "normal."

I wanted you to know that. And I wish you great peace and joy every day. In spite of everything.

Elaine

Sent by Elaine Barnes | 8:38 PM ET | 11-16-2007

To All,
I was having a really bad day until I read today's posts. My husband, who is being treated for State IV lung cancer for almost a year now, has been in a particularly bad frame of mind lately. Just when I was wondering how many more resources I have in me to be able to get up each morning and embrace the day, I turned to this site and found all of these courageous comments. And to you Leroy, who made all of this possible, this choice you made,to document your cancer journey, has taken such strength and committment that I believe everything you've done in previous years must pale in comparison. Thank you all!

Sent by Elaine | 8:38 PM ET | 11-16-2007

Wherever we will be a year from now, through our experiences living with cancer, we have become more humane and therefore have lived more fully and generously --this is the gift --not the quantity of our days on this earth.

Sent by rose | 10:30 PM ET | 11-16-2007

sometimes what i remember from the cancer battle my husband lost in 1999 is that i need to focus on now. when i feel the grayness and loneliness of his loss, and look too far ahead i really know i can not see accurately into the future at all. what i can do is be the best i can on this day, in this place and time. i do like to plan ahead but i learned my lesson, plans may or may not hold and it is not likely to be fully in my control. that reminder keeps me looking at this day, the one here in northern california when i enjoyed the sun coming the broken boards of the old barn and lighting up the mama hen and her one teenaged chick resting in the straw. this day when the morning fog from the coastal range was still retreating over the tiny hills to our west and the almond trees are looking their leaves in the orchards i drove past on my way to my friend's barn. i have to just remember to breathe, to accept the day, to be strong enough to continue as best i can. and to love reading your intimate view inside your mind in this blog. i always find a bit of hope, joy and strength in your writing. maybe the only thing we can appreciate about a bad day is that it helps us see the next day as being just not quite as bad? sort of a negative measuring stick? anyhow. greetings from the northern central valley in CA and cyber hugs and wishes for good dreams.

cynthia

Sent by cynthia | 1:37 AM ET | 11-17-2007

You know, it's OK to be depressed sometimes. Just because you're somewhat of a celebrity now doesn't mean that you can't be or won't be depressed. Being in pain and hooked up to gadgets suck. You can give yourself permission to just yell "this sucks!!!!" or something stronger!

Sent by Cathy Q. | 1:42 AM ET | 11-17-2007

I miss you so much on the weekends.........

Sent by Laurie | 6:52 AM ET | 11-17-2007

Leroy -

I have read this blog each day for the past six months and yet only infrequently do I feel compelled to respond. Today is one of those days.

You wonder in your comments "where you will be a year from now." I know. You will be in the minds and hearts of many cancer survivors as they continue on the journey that this disease has foisted upon them. You will be a shining example of "living with cancer" - continuing to be a living, feeling, caring human despite the rigors and insults of the disease. Your legacy will live in each one of us who has fought cancer. You've left an indelible mark on all of us. This I know.

And this I think. I think you will still be writing, providing us with your daily experiences sprinkled with humor and honest emotion. You will be experiencing some other unexpected challenge as a result of your experience with cancer and sharing that experience with many who need that knowledge.

The sun is shining today in south Florida. It's also shining on you. Today will be a better day.

Andy

Sent by Andrew Kearns | 8:41 AM ET | 11-17-2007

Leroy, I know these kinds of reflections. I do them myself. I look at photos from 3 yrs. ago of my husband and myself and I think, "Who are these poor people? They have no idea what's about to hit them!"

Cancer changes everything. I sincerely hope that a year from now you will be feeling better and stronger and looking back on these dark days as something you had to crawl your way up from.

All you can do is live in the present. Turns out that's the only truth.

Sent by Marilyn | 9:18 AM ET | 11-17-2007

You know, I was feeling pretty depressed the other day. My husband was out of town and I was home alone with the kids. It really gets me to thinking if my cancer will come back. Anyway, things really turned around after I had a really good lunch. The next day, I did my hair and put on a little make-up and I felt a lot better. Maybe you should try that. You'd be surprised what some good food and a little bit of make-up can do to your spirits.
Thank you for telling it like it is.

Sent by Jen Barad | 11:06 AM ET | 11-17-2007

Leroy, after reading your post, I recalled the number of times I think back to when my best friend didn't know what was going on in her body either. And, then another friend, much younger, a similar experience once again. Which is worse? The knowing or the unknowing? Or the remembering when we did or didn't know? I wrap it up in the "living large" theory. Nice haiku Emile.

Sent by Pat Z | 1:11 PM ET | 11-17-2007

Dear Leroy,
I am humbled, with my head down, hands in prayer position placed at my heart, ever so grateful to you for just being. Being brave, being willing to honestly share in what choices are there. I feel the whirling of emotion that spirals up and down and around my center and i must pause to take a deep breath and then say "Thank You" to you for asking such tough questions which we, each individually, will need to answer. Your perspective encourages me to continue to look at things differently - with much greater reverence, rhythm, &
revelations. I have a lot of growing up to do. My thoughts and prayers of feeling better always flowing your way. Thank you again.
dianne

Sent by dianne d | 2:44 PM ET | 11-17-2007

Leroy

Check out Reynolds Pierce's book about his awful cancer which he wasn't suppose to survive and he did. He referred to those others currently without cancer as temporarily abled. I love that designation

Art

Sent by Art | 8:39 PM ET | 11-17-2007

Dear Leroy,
I'm sure you've heard many people talk about the human existance being a combination of body, mind, and spirit. I was wondering if you feel any separation between body, mind and spirit? I know this may sound odd and you might not have a clue what i'm talking about but as a cancer patient myself, i have felt a divide and this divide has been more pronounced to me when the cancer is knocking me down. Of course the body, mind and spirit all impact and influence each other, but somehow being sick has caused me to realize that i am "the spirit" part of that triad and that's all. i feel put out and pissed off at the weak link (my physical being) but i am pretty confident that this "skin suit" is not who i am. i am the part they call the spirit and it is whole - it hasn't been operated on or blasted with chemotherapy. it may have scars but their of a different sort. i don't really know what i'm talking about i guess, but i've been meaning to ask you this question for a while and when i read your blog today, you sounded like i have often felt. and i just wondered if maybe you have felt this separation as well.
Having felt pretty crappy in the past, i've logged more hours in front of the TV than i care to admit, but i heard Oprah say once, "we're not human beings having a spiritual experience, we're spiritual beings having a human experience". i believe that and take comfort in it.
i am so sorry to hear you have been feeling so rotten and that your physical being is under attack, but i wanted to thank you again for the strength your lovely spirit has shared with mine (and many, many others) over the past several months.
Go Leroy Go!
Warmest Regards,
Tannis

Sent by Tannis | 9:16 PM ET | 11-17-2007

I am so thankful that you have time to enjoy another autumn, and time to really look out the window and see some of nourishing nature after having been fully immersed in network affairs a while back... There's a saying I read in a catalog and liked, "Nothing is worth more than this day." None of us knows where we will be a year from now. Interesting to speculate, but life has a way of taking us places we never saw coming. I'm glad we can each "be here now" and share the view we each have on things through your blog community. And yes about winter's starkness and moods... It is not like the melted-butter autumn light raking the leaves to fire... but winter has its gifts too... May we share another season together!

Sent by Sarah | 1:41 PM ET | 11-18-2007

Leroy,

I don't know if my post arrived or not, so I'm posting again.

I feel your sadness coming through your words. How could you not feel sad? The coming of winter mimics the coming of death. I think when you are ill, that makes it even more poignant, but all of us feel that way at times.

I hope you can be more comfortable somehow with what is happening to you. In case any of your mood is due to seasonal depression, it might be worth looking into light therapy.

Blessings

Sent by Diana Kitch | 3:44 PM ET | 11-18-2007

Leroy-
Where is it written that you aren't alllowed to feel depressed, bogged down, or any of those negative feelings? It's understandable, given the circumstances. My thoughts are always with you. Take care.

Sent by Fern Malowitz | 5:49 PM ET | 11-30-2007