Heading Home

I'm going home.

I've gotten in and out of the fake car and fake bathroom. I've done the stairs, played balloon volleyball, and exercised 'till I'm sore. I'm nowhere near 100 percent, but they think I'm ready to go back home.

I'm a little nervous, to be honest. No more wheelchair. They're sending one home with me, but I don't plan to use it.

I'll be using a walker and my own two feet. They're getting stronger every day. But I still find it perplexing that they don't work the way they used to. What happened?

I know the medical answer to that, of course. It's the greater question that's on my mind. That question that we've asked so many times before. That question for which there is no answer.

How did this happen?

That's something to think about while I'm practicing with my walker.

7:15 AM ET | 02-29-2008 | permalink

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Rise and Shine!

The folks here have taken good care of me. I know I shouldn't complain. But I'm going to anyway.

I'm not a morning person.

The nurses wake me up to start the day at about 5:30 a.m. So you can imagine how well that goes.

I know the nurses are changing shifts, but is 5:30 really the best time to get my blood pressure?

Is it really safe for them to try to give me an injection, having just awakened me?

I try to be good, or at least civil. By the time I get to physical therapy a few hours later, I'm in a pretty good mood.

But I'm going to offer this deal:

I'll let you poke me, prod me, put tubes in me. You can do just about anything you need to do. Just PLEASE, PLEASE, let me sleep in.

Is it a deal?

5:35 AM ET | 02-28-2008 | permalink

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Shared Symptoms

Stairs and walkers and bars -- Oh my!

Those are the central characters of my days this week.

We generally work in groups of four or five. That way you get to rest while the therapist gets someone else started on their next activity.

We play the same game we play in the chemo room and the radiation labs and the hospital hallways...who's sicker?

We watch each other and try to figure out where each of us is in our journey.

But no matter what our specific conditions are, we all share one symptom.

We're fighting for our lives.

10:25 AM ET | 02-27-2008 | permalink

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Upstairs, Downstairs

There are probably hundreds of cliches about "the first step." But sometimes in life you really do come face to face with that first step ... like this afternoon.

I had a good day on the walker and the parallel bars, so my therapists wanted me to try the stairs. Five of them.

Going up, you plant your good leg first. I actually made it up pretty easily.

Then I had to come down, weak leg first. That was a little scarier. My arms were locked on the rails, and then I was down.

I did it again a little while later.

Piece of cake.

After all, I'd already taken the first step.

7:58 AM ET | 02-26-2008 | permalink

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Eyes on the Goal

I played intercollegiate volleyball a long time ago. As a team we were big, fast and cocky.

But let's face it: it's been a long time since I could jump or spike the way I used to. There's a great line by George Carlin -- "The older I get, the better I was."

Well, I played volleyball again the other day. There were about 10 of us, all in wheelchairs, using racquets to flail away at balloons. It didn't make me sad, the way you might expect. It didn't make me feel sorry for myself.

What it did, was make me more certain than ever about what's important -- about what I need to walk out of here with. It's not my old athletic ability, it's not my old lifestyle.

What I want is my independence.

7:05 AM ET | 02-25-2008 | permalink

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How Far I've Got to Go

Today, reality set in.

Oh, I walked some more, but my legs felt wobbly and after yesterday's adrenaline rush, I realize just how far I've got to go. I think I surprised my therapists with how far I was able to walk and that's always a fun feeling.

But sitting on an exercise bike, it is obvious how much things have changed since the days I would walk 5 or 6 miles in about an hour.

Will those days ever return?

I don't know.

7:19 AM ET | 02-22-2008 | permalink

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Steps in the Right Direction

I walked.

It wasn't very far, maybe 30 or 40 feet total. I started between two parallel bars, but did the last 10 feet with a walker.

This was more than I ever expected.

My knees were shaky, my feet uncertain, but still I was able to do it.

I have to admit, I was scared before I actually did it. But I did it.

Now I know something I didn't know before ... Maybe the road back isn't as long as I thought.

And I've heard over the last couple of weeks about all your messages. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers.

7:15 AM ET | 02-21-2008 | permalink

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Back to the Basics

Leroy moved from the medical to the physical today.

By that, I mean he left the neuro floor at Hopkins and moved to an acute physical therapy facility where the PT promises to be intense.

I know this might sound odd, but we were both a little sorry to say good-bye to the team of nurses and caregivers in the unit. They were just awesome.

Leroy's talked about how cancer takes you one step forward and two steps back. Well, now it's down to the basics: stand up and walk. It's him against the beast. What was taken away a couple of weeks ago, he will have to fight to get back.

So, on the count of "three" ... EVERYBODY LIFT!!!

7:22 AM ET | 02-20-2008 | permalink

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Alternative Medicine

A long time ago, when Leroy was still doing chemo, I used to leave the treatment room and run down to Fell's Point, to a little bakery that sold the best cookies. They were a simple shortbread, but had a giant dollop of chocolate on top and Leroy loved them. Better than any anti-nausea medicine the doctors could prescribe.

Somehow, they made that awful chemotherapy tolerable. Well, today, one of Leroy's doctors topped those cookies. No, he didn't find some new awesome cancer drug, although he is working on that.

What he did was introduce Leroy to one of the best cheese steaks in this neck of the woods. A true lunch time experience and it made Leroy's day.

The pain lessened and the "picnic" we had in the room made us all forget cancer for a little while.

The good doctors know when to prescribe things that don't always come out of a bottle. Sometimes a cheese steak is a lot more than just a cheese steak.

7:13 AM ET | 02-19-2008 | permalink

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Because It's Leroy

I'm always looking for signs of improvement in Leroy. Maybe that's not fair.

I mean, he's been through hell these past few days. His legs failed him, he had the third surgery on his spine, and he knows there's still some cancer that needs to be addressed.

So why do I expect to see this body that has weathered wars around the world -- and at the moment is fighting its own war -- to sit up in that hospital bed after such a short time and be raring to go?

I guess it's because it's Leroy.

Whenever he was going into a dangerous place to cover a story, he would do this remarkable thing. He would envision himself on the other side of the trip. When the story would be wrapped and the only thing left to do would be to get on that airplane and come home. Safe and sound.

Maybe that's what I'm really looking for. It's not so much the improvement. That goes without saying.

It's coming home. Safe and sound.

7:30 AM ET | 02-18-2008 | permalink

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Friends Do the Heavy Lifting

Friends count in the cancer equation.

While Leroy's been really sick in the hospital, his pals have checked in almost daily to see how he's feeling. It's like all of you ... keeping tabs from a distance, but being there for him in thoughts and prayers.

Now that he's getting back to being himself, this wonderful extension of family is gathering once again, anxious to come for a visit, to boost Leroy's spirits during this long hospital stay. I tell him about all these wonderful blog messages, and he loves to hear about them.

I try to do all that I can, by just being there, but let's face it: day after day in a hospital bed can make you go nuts. Now it's his friends who have rallied around him. But it comes naturally to all these folks because they really care about him.

The doctors and nurses have done great work. But it's the friends who will come in now and do the heavy lifting, of the spirit.

This is something cancer cannot touch.

8:53 AM ET | 02-15-2008 | permalink

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Signs of Strength

Slowly he is taking back control. The physical therapist came in today to put Leroy through his paces. Why are these people always so tiny?

They were doing leg lifts and stretching, and she decided it was time for Leroy to go from the chair back to the bed. He took one look at her and said, "You'll need help!"

So we called in his nurse, who is an ace at this. They counted to three and were prepared to do most of the lifting when Leroy took control and made the move.

A sign that the strength in his back and legs is returning? Yes. But more important, it's that old drive that I haven't seen in a while.

Remember, this is a guy who's been in control, even in the hairiest of conditions, throughout his career.

One little pivot from a chair to a bed.

This is a day to remember.

7:13 AM ET | 02-14-2008 | permalink

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The Best Words in Cancer World

There's nothing better in the cancer world than hearing a doctor say, "It all looks good, the brain MRI is clean."

Could you hear the exhale?

And nothing new on the spine MRI, either. The doctors knew they would see some cancer at the locations where they operated a few days ago, and we'll have to make some decisions on that in the weeks ahead. But the rest of the spine appears to be in good shape.

So I guess it was worth the pain Leroy went through for those couple of hours lying flat on his back in that MRI tube.

What it says to me is that Leroy's body is a fighting machine. His will to push back continues, and his body is listening.

YOUR prayers and good wishes are swirling around his room, I can feel them.

You all helped today.

We both send our thanks.

7:03 AM ET | 02-13-2008 | permalink

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At Last, a Good Day

Sometimes a great turkey sandwich and a chocolate cupcake are all you need to make it a good day.

Even when you have cancer. Even when your legs aren't working the way they should. Even when you're in, arguably, the best hospital in the country, getting the best medical care.

That was the way it was for Leroy this day.

There was a shift in his mood. He was joking with the nurses. Practicing the exercises the PT therapist has shown him. All signs that the old Leroy is surfacing.

It's been a struggle.

Then, late in the day, some positive news. A CT scan showed no changes to the small nodules in his lung. And the rest of Leroy's body was clear.

The MRIs are next on the schedule. They will look at the spine and the brain. More to worry about, but not now.

Even at this late hour as I write this, I'm content to say it was a good day.

7:01 AM ET | 02-12-2008 | permalink

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Overload, Delirium and Return

It's been a wild ride this weekend.

So much pain led to too much pain medication. Add to that the long surgery with all those drugs, and Leroy's body and brain couldn't take the load.

He slid into a delirium that scared me more than words can express.

This is a man who has always lived in his head, if you know what I mean. Smart, solid thinker. Articulate. And it was all gone.

The doctors had seen this happen before. But just to make sure it was what they thought, they put Leroy through a lot of tests for bad things. They all came up negative.

But it took a full night and day and part of another night for Leroy to get rid of that overload of medicine and return to us.

I can't tell you how happy I was when I heard him tell his nurse that the year was 2008. And he said it like, "Why would you ask me such a stupid question?"

So now it's back to working on strengthening his legs. There will be more scans in the coming days. And the ride continues, hopefully with a few less hairpin turns.

8:22 AM ET | 02-11-2008 | permalink

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That Spark of Strength

It's been another long day at the hospital.

By midafternoon Leroy was "unplugged" and moved out of intensive care and into a regular room. He's still being watched carefully by specially trained "neuro" nurses, but it was nice to hear the nurse in the ICU say he really didn't qualify for intensive care anymore because he was doing so well.

The pain is being managed now and he's much more comfortable. His overall condition seems to be improving slowly, but he's not out of the woods yet.

There is a long, and I mean, long dressing that runs down the length of his spine, and he has three of those nasty drains coming out of his back. All necessary in this recovery process.

But there's also that spark of strength that has carried him through so many of these battles.

You would think that by now, this lousy disease would just wave the white flag and surrender.

7:49 AM ET | 02- 8-2008 | permalink

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A Very Long Day

Leroy is resting comfortably in the hospital. At least as comfortably as is possible after nine hours of extensive spine surgery.

The doctors found more cancer in the area that had been causing Leroy so much pain. They have done their best to remove it.

Before the surgery began, he went through more scans. They showed the "hardware" in his back from the original surgery was not where it should have been because a tumor had weakened the vertebrae.

So they fixed that, too, along with adding more support to the spine.

It was a very long day.

And, YES, he is using his pain button.

7:03 AM ET | 02- 7-2008 | permalink

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Editor's Note

Leroy is in the hospital. His doctors are doing tests on his spine because of his undiminished pain and new muscle weakness. He may need more surgery.

We'll post more information as we get it.

7:03 AM ET | 02- 6-2008 | permalink

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Signs of Weakness

Weakness can be a little scary. Especially when you're not used to it, or you don't expect it.

When I got up this morning -- or tried to get up, is probably more accurate -- my legs weren't strong enough to hold me.

Now when I talked with my physical therapist, he said that's not uncommon. But it was still scary. I'm not used to having, or showing, weakness of any kind.

So I postponed my physical therapy session, hoping that tomorrow I'll be a little stronger.

Will I be?

I guess we won't know until tomorrow. This is a little like waiting for the results of the latest scans.

Only this time, instead of worrying about whether there is anything new to see on the scans, I'm worried about whether I can stand up and feel strong.

Either way, I'm still worried.

7:03 AM ET | 02- 5-2008 | permalink

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Aspiring to Perfection

As I write this, we're deep into the pre-game hype of the Super Bowl. This has been going on for hours now.

Fox has trotted out a lot of their stars. Even Paula Abdul sang and danced. And we're still hours away from the actual game. I'm tempted to make a couple of jokes here about still being in pain.

But then they just ran a clip narrated by Russell Crowe. And what he talked about was aspiring to perfection. Aspiring to be more. That may have been the best piece they've run all afternoon.

It's all about trying to rise above our challenges. Does that have anything to do with having cancer?

Yeah, I think it does. All we can do is try each day to rise above this disease. I think that's probably challenge enough.

7:13 AM ET | 02- 4-2008 | permalink

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Acupuncture, But with Bigger Needles

Another day, another new procedure.

This one was called dry needle therapy. I had gone in for physical therapy, looking for a way to lessen the pain. The therapist put me through a round of treatment that is similar to acupuncture, but with bigger needles.

YES, for those of you who are wondering, it does hurt. A couple of hours later, it still hurts. But it's supposed to stimulate your muscles in a way that will end the long-term pain.

I really, really hope this works. The therapist warned me that I would feel pain for a good 24 to 36 hours. So far, he appears to be an honest man.

In the meantime, I'm going to lie here and do all that I can do. And that's hope that the pain passes quickly.

7:13 AM ET | 02- 1-2008 | permalink

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