I Can't. I Have Cancer.

 
“I can't go shovel snow, I have cancer. It's the perfect excuse. Who could argue with that?”
 
 

It snowed today. Not a lot, just a couple of inches. Enough to be pretty without being a nuisance.

One of my immediate thoughts was, I can't go shovel snow, I have cancer. It's the perfect excuse. Who could argue with that?

But almost as soon as I thought it, I wished it weren't true. Of course I wish I didn't have cancer. That's obvious. But I also wish I didn't have the limits that cancer puts on my life.

After my last surgery, my doctors told me no BLT -- no bending, lifting or twisting.

Well, I want to BLT. I want to lift heavy objects. I want to work out again. I'm so tired of being told what I can't do because I'm sick.

Then I have to bring myself back to reality. The cancer does prevent me from doing a lot of things. Some that I want to do. Other things, like shoveling the driveway, that I have mixed feelings about.

The program Inside the Actor's Studio asks each of its guests the same questions. One is, "What is your least favorite word?"

I've realized that mine is "can't."

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Dear Leroy,
You may not be able to BLT, but what you can do and have done for so many folks is beyond remarkable. "Can't" is the right word to detest, but I and so many others are grateful for what you can do.
With much love,
Mary

Sent by Mary Sullivan - Charlottesville,VA | 8:54 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Mine is "chemo".

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 8:56 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Hi Leroy,

I remember when I was going through chemo, I couldn't wait to get back to the gym to work out - something I never thought I would feel so desperate to do. It's amazing what we take for granted or miss when we can no longer do it. I try never to complain now about going to the gym - I just feel incredibly lucky that I can.

Sending you healing thoughts your way,

Lianne

Sent by Lianne Friedman | 8:59 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy,
Your last two posts have really hit home for me. I am 12 years out from my first of 5 bouts with cancer. While I've certainly outlasted in the "survival" arena, it has taken a lot from me. Of course, the most obvious is the loss of my left leg above the knee, a hole in my skull and my right breast (much less noticeable!). After you lose a leg, losing a breast is really nothing! Anyhoo, it has also robbed me of the freedom to come and go in weather like this (too icy to walk), and yet the cancer is the only health problem I have. I'm otherwise a very healthy cancer patient. As you said, the cancer causes the only problems. Obviously, something to be very grateful for. So, I feel better already.
I do think that once I reach the point you are at in your journey, I will take off. Maybe no skydiving (the hole in the head), but lying on a beach, being in a warm climate reading one of those books sounds really good to me. Why don't you take off and enjoy some new scenery?
Take care.

Sent by Cindy | 9:05 AM ET | 01-18-2008

OK, you can't shovel snow. If I lived closer, I would come over and do that for you. Things that you CAN'T do can be replaced by things that you CAN do. Even as we age, there are more limitations to our abilities. It isn't just cancer or surgery that impacts on us. It is LIFE.

Making a snow angel does not require BLT, go make one.

Sent by Sue Chap | 9:06 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy, I agree with you. Even for healthy people, though the word "can't" is not very popular. As the can'ts start adding up though the only good thing is that it really makes you appreciate the can dos.

Leroy, you have been recouping here from these last events for quite a while. Are you getting mentally bored with this? My husband tells me that he so needs to have something to keep his mind and hands busy. He also is not able to do many of the things you mention.

We really appreciate you being here and am so sorry that you have to deal with this monster.

To Sasha==I always think of you and your husband. I think many of our situations are similar. It is really hard, and I pray for strength for both.

Sent by dorothy in oregon | 9:22 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Hi, Leroy.

I always thought using my cancer as an excuse would be a self-fulfilling prophecy. There are times where one just can't; that's life in Cancer Land. But I belive that if you can, then do.

As far as the snow goes, if you have the option of hiring a neighbor's son to help out or a company to clear it for you, go for it! Shoveling snow is pretty overrated, anyway...;->

My best to you and Laurie. You remain in my prayers.


Sent by Erica | 9:23 AM ET | 01-18-2008

The "can't" that i have a harder time with is the emotional aspects of having cancer. People are universally understanding of the physical constraints of it, but somehow they expect that I am the same person emotionally who i was pre-cancer. Would that it be so, but it isn't. My physical endurance and strength have greatly increased now that I am (temporarily I'm sure) "cured," but there is no way I'm emotionally whole again. Christmas, the universal barometer for emotional health, made this ever apparent to me as I attempted to juggle the high emotional and family interaction that season engenders in us all. Carol

Sent by carol irvin | 9:24 AM ET | 01-18-2008

I have cancer...three little words. There is that old song about three little words, and one could write forever about which three little words change lives the most.

Frankly, "I love him" and "We're getting married" are three little word phrases I was a whole lot happier saying than the "I have cancer" one.

Of course, "It's too expensive" and "I'm too old" are other phrases that I dislike almost as much!

Hope you can enjoy family and friends this weekend.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy | 9:29 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Show shoveling story: I will never forget my next door neighbor in the 80's. Paul was born with no arms (just little "flappers") and one leg only as long as a thigh, with a foot at the end of it. He lived a productive life as a computer programer, drove a car with his feet, coached sports teams for kids with disabilities and accomplished many other seemingly miraculous tasks. He would shovel show this way: Hold the shovel handle under his chin, push with the trunk of his body, and use his short leg to flip the snow off the sidewalk. Of course we ran outside whenever we saw him there, to help. His spirit and sense of humor were amazing. He used to say to me "give me a hand with this, will you? ha ha" He married and still lives in my city. What a guy. Severly disabled, yet not disabled at all, because of his mindset. So inspiring. Makes you count your blessings. And be thankful for small things.

Sent by Wendy | 9:44 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Often when the word "can't" comes my way, into my head pops the scene from "Singin' in the Rain" where Lena Lamont is working with her elocution coach Phoebe Dinsmore. Lena is trying to match Miss Dinsmore's deep rich tones in the line "...and I can't stand him" . Dinsmore says with dignity, "and I cahn't stahnd him". Lena screeches, "..an' I caaahn't stannim!!"!
So I get options: dignity, or indignant and irrepressible energy. I'm sometimes surprised by which I choose.
Take care. We think of you every day.

Sent by Ceese Stickles | 9:55 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Good Morning Leroy,
You may not be able to BLT, but who said you can't make a "yummy" BLT and set in your favorite chair and look out at the beautiful snow and enjoy a good sandwich and possibly a cup of hot chocolate and then maybe drift off into a relaxing nap. Enjoy the day my friend.

Sent by Teresa in WV | 10:06 AM ET | 01-18-2008

I feel the same way - but the thing I want to do is garden - actually digging, pulling, the heavy stuff I used to do. It's hard to let go of the things that we took for granted and that represent a time of normalcy for us. For you, it's shoveling the snow. Let it go and throw a snowball instead. Or several.

Marcia

Sent by Marcia Greer | 10:28 AM ET | 01-18-2008

What a brave commentary Leroy! I have so much admiration and respect for you and wish you strength and success in your battle against the big "C." Keep kicking butt!

Sent by Charlotte Tomic | 10:30 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy, what is the reaction when, since childhood, we were told we could not do something? Of course it was to do your darndest to do it! Only now, we know better, and the challenge to "do it" is tempered with the common sense that we "shouldn't do it".
My husband has recently been told that he cannot BLT anymore because of the chance of fractured vertebrae and his old spinal fusion. It is terrible for him, and yet, he went out yesterday during the storm to just "brush the snow off the car to keep it from freezing the windows and doors shut" later. HA! I watched as he continued until he had made a path to the front door, cleaned the Patio-etc.
Human nature, Leroy. Thank goodness that we can still gripe about what we can't do anymore. Old age takes so much from our lives also. The stroke has said,"You can't paint or draw anymore" to me, and I am furious about it. How is your sight Leroy?

Sent by J C R | 10:43 AM ET | 01-18-2008

For me the "can't" is attached to "I HAD cancer, and the treatment did some lasting damage," but the psychological effect is the same. There's lots of things I can't do that I used to love to do, and I HATE the "can't" word.

But there are many, many more things I love that I still CAN do, and I try to stay focused on those.

Sent by N.R. | 10:45 AM ET | 01-18-2008

I do not like that word either.
What you CAN do is something most "can't." You touch thousands of lives daily while you are going through so many difficult days.
I had to move in with my sister as my husband asked for a divorce when I finished chemo. Every day I say I have to see how my friend is today.
I share your insights and marvel at your strength with her.
It helps as her husband has ALS. You reach is far my friend.
As I said, most people "can't" claim such an accomplishment. (Even if they BLT)

Sent by joyce | 11:02 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy, I was out cutting firewood, kind of a fall tradition for me. I was alone as normal and taking my time as normal. But, somewhere along the way, I began to feel not so well. I had been cutting for quite a while, so I had much to load. I took a break, and felt refreshed, so I went about the business of loading my catch. I wasn't really paying attention to how I felt, just doing what I normally did. Suddenly, I realized I'm lightheaded, dizzy, and sick to my stomach. Now I had been drinking plenty of water, as normal, so I didn't think I was dehydrated. It was at this moment my doctor's words came back, "don't over do it." I only made it home by shear determination, and I'm still not sure how I did. I was sick for three days, very sick. It was then I began to recognize what can't means. I hate can't almost as much as I hate Cancer. Right with you, Big Man. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 11:20 AM ET | 01-18-2008

Not cancer?

My husband, who is a 94-year-old physician, said every day of life is a gift.

Enjoy your snow and your weekend.
Barb

Sent by Barb | 11:36 AM ET | 01-18-2008

As always you are eloquent, and with a few words, touch many lives. While God may have allowed this trial in your life, He is using you to touch many of us who look for words expressing our own feelings -- you provide those words and assist in an inward healing of sorts. As others have commented -- writing to us is a CAN do for you..so many of us look forward to it!

Sent by Jo Ann Baswell | 12:06 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Hi Leroy and all,

Like others, I'd say treasure the things you can do while giving yourself the luxury to bemoan the things you can't(from time to time). And pay attention to what you ARE doing - advice from my two favorite living Buddhist saints, H.H. the Dalai Lama and the Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh. Personally, I treasure my (for the time being) ability to BLT and stand on one leg. Here though, we just got the first snow in years -not enough to shovel, but I still have to take out the garbage and empty the cat box. Meanwhile, the (remote) possibility of seizures and cancer-caused chronic fatigue keep me from driving and working anywhere near full time. Ugh.
Leroy, please treasure your public voice (you've earned it). I wish I had the same with which to share all that cancer has taught me, despite not being too happy to have it. God's sense of humor and teaching methods are sometimes neither funny nor particularly pleasant, but we are fortunate (in our own ways and despite the pain, boredom and inconvenience) to both learn from them and share what we've learned.

Vaya con Dios

John Shippee
GBM IV currently in remission
Atlanta GA

Sent by John Shippee | 12:08 PM ET | 01-18-2008

NoBLT - Looks like we all have that word in our vocabulary now. Fortunately, I have a wonderful young man across the street that I have seen grow up since he was a baby. He comes over to shovel my driveway without even asking. He refuses to take money. Whoever says there are no young people who care anymore should meet Evan. So I agree. Make yourself a BLT and enjoy the whiteness of the snow before it becomes brown and dirty. I may not be able to shovel snow, but I can still wash the tub and bathroom down, do the laundry (after my husband carries the baskets up or down) and do the dishes. Sometimes I think shoveling snow would be better. Snowball fights always seem to breakout between neighbors.

Sent by Cathy | 12:09 PM ET | 01-18-2008

One thing I learned in finance is your liabilities are also your assets. OK, maybe that only works in finance ;-)

I "can't" clean the horse stalls because I'm on chemo. Truth is, I could clean them, but it would be a stupid move. I would pay dearly for having exhausted myself. I look at it as "I choose not to clean the stalls in order to give my body the best chance of dealing with the chemo." Secretly, I consider this an asset. When it's something like racing my kids up the driveway, it's a liability.

Yeah, you could be a macho man and go out there and shovel snow, but you choose not to so your back can heal from surgery. Aren't you glad you don't have horses? ;-)

My least favorite word? "Progression" In cancer world, it doesn't actually mean progress, it means decline.

Sent by Karen D. | 12:35 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Very true, Leroy. I hate being limited too. But then I see others more limited then me, and it makes me embarrassed to even complain. Perhaps life is dealing with the cards you are dealt and making the most of it. I also think of how much I can't but never could do. I can't sing worth a damn. I can't and never could do the hula hoop. I can't but never could dance. I can't grow a few inches taller. I can't play pro football and sadly I can't tell a joke very well either! I wish I could write the great American novel, but I can't. Despite my griping about modern technology, I must admit it makes us almost bionic...my laptop opens so many doors and even brings me to you Leroy! So I will enjoy what I can, when I can and where I can and keep on reading your insights Leroy.

Sent by Rich | 12:45 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy,
Maybe you can not BLT, but you are an inspiration to all in the c world. All of your words and wisdom help each and every one of us going through what we do in our days in the c world. So you keep strong, and we are there for you too...My thoughts are with you daily

Sent by luisa | 12:46 PM ET | 01-18-2008

On the other hand, being absolved of shoveling snow, bending, twisting and lifting might leave time for some other activities relegated during your more physically active days. But I understand the way we long for exactly the thing we are told (by our bodies or our doctors) that we are no longer supposed to pursue. Working out may take a different form now, and the definition of what constitutes a heavy object may shift to a safer zone. But I really hope you can find a way to live that lets you feel capable, and that you still enjoy a full range of things.

Sent by Sarah | 12:48 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Cancer - my least favorite word would hands down be cancer. Hope you have a the best weekend that you possibly can.

Sent by jmoyer | 12:53 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Mmmmmm Bacon...

Seriously... let someone else shovel the snow, or leave it, I hear it melts... Go have a BLT and think happy thoughts...
Unless you can't or don't like Bacon, then have another snack..

Sent by Brit | 1:33 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy,

I sympathize with hating "can't," because I am an old lady and there is lots I can't do anymore. However, what you can do and have done with your blog is so very important - more so to my mind than shoveling snow.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 3:11 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy - I only see what you CAN do and how important you are to this great discussion and forum that you've created with your generous spirit. I totally understand and am so thankful to have my "body" back and most of my strength and will try to never take that for granted again........
But the reason you are so wonderful, is you hate the word "can't"!!!!
Hope you CAN have a wonderful, relaxing and peaceful weekend with good food, books and hopefully some wine.......
hugs to you and Laurie

Sent by Ruth Chermok | 3:14 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy. BLT sandwiches are my favorite comfort food - before my mom got sick and my sister passed, my dad and i made our "special BLT's" together before watching the sunday football games - special b/c they were triple decker and we would mix the mayo with a nice grainy dijon. Now, when i visit my dad, instead of going to lunch, we'll make a BLT together and watch a game. As we munch and watch the game, my worries halt and i feel safe again. On the topic of sports...as this whole Mitchell report frenzy has played out, the thought constantly running through my head as I watch Roger Clemens (fibbing?) on 60 minutes, is that "everyone feels pressure to keep up with their former selves". It is frustrating when one's physical (or mental/emotional) state changes and alters his or her capabilities - sometimes you almost mourn your former self. I guess the key is to focus on the capabilities of the "new" you - the one that is alive today. What can you do today that makes you feel like your ol' comfortable self? I don't have much experience with physical dehabilitations and I wont even pretend to know what its like to live with cancer. I only know that the onsets of anxiety that I started experiencing following my sister's passing and my mom's cancer diagnosis prevent me from experiencing the blissful ignorance and sense of invincibility that most people in their mid-twenties enjoy. It annoys me that I'm unable to spend much time alone (i used to love being alone) or have more than one drink without getting an anxiety attack these days, unlike my bar-hopping friends, or that I am now too nervous to ski and surf, two activities I loved and used to do fast and fearlessly (my sister died of head trauma). However, I'm grateful that I can still make a "special BLT" and take in a game with Dad. When I do that, I feel safe and like my old self.

Sent by liz | 5:12 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Suddenly, having can'ts in our lives are tragic.....but having "limits" is better. So we are limited in shoveling snow.....I myself feel limited in working out, and being on the treadmill...........oh dear..... has to be something good out of this....I think.
Leroy, no doubt you are a strong man.....and this is so evident by your honestly in all you write. Blessings.
Wanda Amorose.

Sent by Wanda Amorose | 5:24 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Have to share some good news with everyone. My husband went to see the oncologist yesterday to get the results of his latest scans & everything was good news. He is now 2 years post diagnosis of stage 4 lung cancer & NED. Our daughter is getting married 2/16/08 & he will be walking her down the aisle & dancing the daughter/daddy dance even if he can't make the whole dance due to missing a lung. Our sons have agreed to take over & complete the dance. 2 years ago an oncologist told us he would never make it to the wedding. I just wish everyone could get good news every time they see their oncologist. Much love to all of you. You have all helped us through some really bad days. Leroy you are the best for being the glue that holds us all together.

Sent by Kathy | 5:36 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Leroy,
Sometimes having cancer comes in handy (not often). But lets face it, none of us likes to shovel snow. Especially wet heavy snow!! Now we can just enjoy the beauty of freshly fallen snow. The word that I had the most is incurable. I was diagnosed at stage IV and never had a chance to be cured. I can't wait until they eliminate that word! Thank you all for this wonderful blog and comments. You are all my support group!

Sent by Mary Cannon | 5:38 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Courage really begins only when you get to the 'can't' word.

Hope and humor!

Sent by Tidewater Joe | 10:51 PM ET | 01-18-2008

Hi Leroy,
I think my mom's surprising word on Thursday was Congratulations. That's what her oncologist said at her last visit to discuss her chemo treatment progress. The 6 week ct scan showed a 40 percent reduction of the lung tumor after only the second infusion. Good news, but she decided the fatigue from that chemo was too much to continue. He suggested taking a daily Tarceva pill and she has so far agreed to that. At 81 she was thinking that she's ready to die and hospice care should be next step. But Dr. says not yet, her lungs sound clearer & tumor is smaller in lung & lymph node. So her 5 kids are trying to get her thinking turned around to be Living with Cancer, not dying of cancer. She uses that Can't word alot, but we prod her to do things anyway at least in small amounts. Dr. also suggested she change anti-pressant to Zoloft. The mental struggle is as hard as the physical one. Thank you all for listoning.

Sent by Marge from Texas | 12:45 AM ET | 01-19-2008

Hi, Leroy,

I have heard of that thing called snow. Actually we had a couple of days of snow around Thanksgiving. Just enough to cover the yard with a light blanket of white. Grassblades stuck clearly up through it and by noon the next day it was a distant memory. I think Iraq had more snow than we did.

My Dad did not take the word "can't" as an excuse from me at all when I tried to back out of something that I felt challenged me too much. He used an old saying or cliche or rhyme which I've only heard a couple of times in the last few years. I was never sure where he learned it or its origin. "Can't never could do nothing." That is all I can remember of the saying he used. I learned early that it was better to give my best effort to attempt something unless I had a very strong, legitimate reason to support use of the word "can't."

But, like you, I learned that some times can't is the only answer. Someone will invite me to go get an ice cream cone and I have to say sorry I can't, I'm allergic to milk. Those were minor things until cancer came into my life and suddenly I had to use can't all too often. "Sorry can't go out with you, I'm on chemo," or the wicked triple can't, "Sorry can't go to church this Sunday because my oncologist said I can't be around people because my body can't fight off the flu." After I had to say it, I just sat there looking confused. Is this really me??

In other words, I know what you mean about the increasing need to say "I can't because of cancer.

Anyway, to you and everyone who crosses the path in here, have a good safe weekend.

Bobbie

Sent by Bobbie Hollis | 3:20 AM ET | 01-19-2008

Truthfully, my least favorite word or group of words is "Cancer S---s!. It is very disgusting, non-descriptive, "Gutter-talk" when referring to cancer.
Have a good weekend Leroy.

Sent by J C R | 7:47 AM ET | 01-19-2008

Leroy my hubby isn???t with me any more he passed Dec. 23 they gave him a year with the type of cancer he had he lasted 6 years he wasn???t going to accept the fact the cancer was going to get him in a year he never gave up he fought tooth and nail you may be feeling low but keep popping the cancer in the mouth he had colospy feeding tube port anything they could put in him surgical to keep him comfortable he kept that chin up he never admitted he was giving up when he could hardly walk and weak I took him for short rides if nothing but going get a paper and a coke or coffee the reason I know he wasn???t giving up he talked about next year getting a new TV also worried about getting the flu shot hey he was already under hospice care at the end they kept him comfortable pain free as far as we can tell those folks can read a body he could not communicate the last 2 weeks of his life he passed at the foot of my bed in a hospital bed peacefully 5 am that morning you don???t have to post this I just wanted to share with you never give up until its over do what the doctors advise you to do he had 10 surgers in the 6 years praying for you my friend carolyn

Sent by carolyn | 9:34 AM ET | 01-19-2008

hey leroy....last few blogs are related. run away. mundane things. favorite books. hawaii. no blt. hmmmm....what's left of MY life? from the beginning you have been relentless with the truth. thank you. much love. catherine, blacksburg VA

Sent by catherine | 10:26 AM ET | 01-19-2008

Quite interesting comments today. Fewer, but thought provoking. I would like to address "Marge of Texas" Her comments touched me very much. Sounds hopeful about her Mom and the lung tumor. My sister-in-law has been battling the same thing for over four years now. She is over 80 and livley and spry as she can be. Has had many Chemos-hair falling out-hair growing in. She stays upbeat with it all and is doing great so far. Tarceva seems to have been the best Chemo they have given her. Good luck with your Mom and above all, encourage her hope and optimism. That is what Leroy has an abundance of ,and that, is the biggest reason we all love him!

Sent by J C R | 4:57 PM ET | 01-19-2008

I used to see your postings on the npr website without really understanding what they meant. NOT REALLY. Until I joined the club. I was diagnosed with 4th stage prostate cancer a few months ago, now I read all the postings and they mean something to me. My least favorite word: pain. I'm not there yet (the serious pain) but I know it's coming.

Sent by Jose R Gomez | 10:03 AM ET | 01-20-2008

Leroy, I know you realize how important you are to all of who share this illness. But perhaps you should consider a little vacation for a week to just do nothing and recharge. It must be hard, every day, feel good or bad, to come up with something to write.

You???ve been so much in the last couple of months with this last procedures. The pain, the lack of sleep, the not knowing if you would get better or not. These are all a tremendous strain.

You best know what keeps you going, be that working or resting, but I ask that as you start feel a little better day that you consider planning a weekend without publishing deadlines. Just a week for you to do whatever you want on your own schedule.

We of course will miss hearing from you that week. But we also will have a nice week thinking about you and knowing that you???re get some real rest and realization, if even for a few lazy days.

Bradyr from Redmond Washington

Sent by Brady Richardson | 2:54 PM ET | 01-20-2008

May God be with you leroy and watch over you and keep you out of pain. You are an inspiration to all !! Your bravery and courage are amazing to all of us. I LOVE READING YOUR STORIES!!!

Sent by Annette Purdy | 7:32 AM ET | 01-21-2008

netflicks is great

Sent by gary tebor | 8:42 AM ET | 01-31-2008



   
   
   
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