Leroy, They are all angels sent to help us. I don't think anyone forgets what we have. Sometimes, it is easier to ignore it for a little while. With care and wishing you a lovely weekend.

Sent by anne lumberger | 8:51 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy,

It isn't easy to care for patients with a poor prognosis on a day to day basis. I was a student nurse, and Elizabeth Kubler-Ross came to our school to speak. I was inspired to work with patients that were dying. I had that opportunity when I worked medical oncology. A truly wonderful group of patients, varying ages, absolutely a phenomenal experience. My problem came up when patients that were close to my own age were being diagnosed and dying from their disease. It took a toll on me tremendously. I got extremely depressed and ultimately had to leave that field. I am older now, perhaps, I could do it again. I have thought about it occasionally...

Have a great weekend!

Sent by Sue Chap | 8:58 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy how do any of us interact daily with others knowing that they are dying and may be gone tomorrow? We might as well climb in a dark hole and curse the fact that we were born to die.
One of the lovely elderly couples in this apartment complex have just unexpectidly lost their oldest son. In his early fifties, not sick or ailing, with wife and children. Everyone who knows them are shocked. WHY? I guess because we are all born to die.But there was no cancer involved, so you figure. Aren't we getting too consumed by cancer? You Leroy could have died on the operating table with a massive stroke, but you didn't. What about those people in Burma? Were they expected to die and therefore should have given up living had they known? So now, you wait for cancer to claim you? Where is the wonderful Journalist you once were? Why not start writing again about something other than cancer?
Yesterday's messages were nothing more than a huge commercial for the Drug Compainies. We never go to the doctor's when there aren't salespeople there with their black cases, getting in to see the doctors before the patients with, (I heard the other day), rheir samples of Viagra. Nice, eh?
Yes Leroy, we are ALL going to die - someday. Hope you and Laurie have a good weekend and I would hope to read your message Monday morning and find you in a better mood and trying to find something worthwhile to stay alive and fight for once again. Love ya!

Sent by J C R | 9:13 AM ET | 05-09-2008

They are truly angels of mercy. Our oncologist is so kind and shows concern and takes time. What is in his eyes cannot be faked--it's genuine. He's not just my Daddy's doctor, but he also is attentive and understanding and wonderful to my Mom, my brother and me. We love you Dr. DaSilva.

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:33 AM ET | 05-09-2008

and Leroy, have a good weekend! As George Bailey so eloquently put it, "It's A Wonderful Life!" God bless...

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:36 AM ET | 05-09-2008

There's something mighty to be said for depth of life that's usually attibuted only to length.

Sent by Leonard from Alabama | 9:36 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,
Caring for people with cancer can be a most joyful and fulfilling calling. Yes, it hurts to see people in pain, and it is sad when patients die. But the focus of the work and the source of joy and meaning come from making the situation the best it can be. It comes from relieving pain and bringing comfort.

Healthcare professionals are in a powerful position to help every single patient become a Healthy Survivor, by which I mean a survivor who gets good care and lives as fully as possible. In helping patients become Healthy Survivors we fulfill our mission to cure as often as possible, relieve often and comfort always. It's an honor.

With hope,
Wendy

Sent by Wendy S. Harpham, MD | 9:39 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,
As a nurse, I've cared for lots of people facing life threatening illnesses and I've often been asked how I handle it. Over time what I've accepted is that we are all mortal, all of our lives will have an ending, its just that some of us are closer to knowing what the cause may be than others! Of, course, we can never be 100% sure! How many of us visualize dying in a car crash? A cyclone? But, sooner or later, something happens.
To me, it has taught me to cherish every day, to cherish life, to make the most of it, and that means facing it head on, loving my family, my patients, my fellow beings on this journey for how ever long I get.
To those who have been shown what the end will likely be, I say, let's make it the best it can be for you.

Sent by Evie | 9:45 AM ET | 05-09-2008

I can think of no greater privilege than to have the desire, willingness and ability to dedicate one's life to helping those that may be facing the end of their lives. I imagine it does get very hard at times. How could it not? Most people are pretty darn great! Then there are the victories. The battles won. Somehow it must all even out.

Sent by Sue in Rochester, NY | 10:05 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Have a good weekend Leroy.

Sent by Lisa | 10:14 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Take this one step further to hospice. I have known a few. They have told me that it is rewarding knowing they are helping the patient and the family. I can understand that.

Sent by mlc | 10:14 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Hi Leroy. I'm a registered nurse, and a cancer survivor, so I've been on both sides. I worked as an ICU nurse for 16 years, and people always asked me how I dealt with all the misery, pain and deaths of my patients. I've always felt that I was helping people; either relieving pain and discomfort, or holding hands with patients and their loved ones when the prognosis was grim, giving them emotional support. I could see relief in their eyes. I've been thanked by many family members and patients for my support. This has always kept me going. It's a wonderful feeling to know I am helping someone, whether it's to heal physically or emotionally, or to gently help the journey to the end. In my battle with cancer, I received the same support from my family, friends, and care givers. I knew that my well being was important to them. Health professionals really care about our emotional and physical health. Be well, Leroy.

Sent by Miriam | 10:26 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,
You are right. The people who treat us for cancer and help us through the experience are exceptional. They have to put emotion aside and deal with the real issues of trying to kill the cancer and keeping us alive.
A friend of mine took her Mom to UCLA for treatment years ago. She said the hardest part of those trips was seeing the children with cancer. The people who treat these children are really saints here on earth.
We are all going to die. I just want it to be quick and painless...another unrealistic expectation!
Wishing you and Laurie a good weekend. You do deserve it!
Charlotte in Rural Ridge, PA

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 10:34 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy prayers to you, laurie and the wondeful people on this blog.

Sent by sasha321 | 10:34 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Every time I go back to the infusion room to have still another treatment (I'm getting the fifth protocol now) the nurses hug me and welcome me and I can tell from their eyes they are sad for me. One nurse tells me I look beautiful!! Do my friends forget that I have cancer? Well, I look like an alien. No hair, no eyelashes, no eyebrows and I'm all puffy. So I doubt it. But I never bring up my cancer and rarely do they. Its hard to go out into the "real world" so I try to get together with people who are used to how I look. Sometimes the looks I get from strangers tell me I frighten them, don't want to do that! No one knows how, when or where we are going to die, just that we are going to. I treasure "my" nurses, my husband and family and friends. Probably the hardest thing for me to accept is the ideas and suggestions I get from those who want to "help." I'm still here, way past the time statistics said I would be so the docs must be doing something right and I trust them. Onward.

Sent by Helen | 10:59 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Well, I just have to jump in and say - you are still and always will be a fine journalist. And your courage shines through when you talk about the most difficult subjects. And we must all respect one another's opinions on this wonderful blog.

That said, I think it is too much to ask you to talk about cancer five days a week - and perhaps not even healthy for you. I have wondered about this for a long time. Either you might cut your blog down to two or three a week, or you might start writing about other things. There is so much going on in the world.

Whatever you decide, remember you are an enormous blessing to all of us.

And by the way, I heartily applaud your mentioning how wonderful many in the medical profession are. I had so much fun with my doctors and nurses, and the radiation team. And they were so so so kind. It meant so much to me to feel that they really cared.

I made my doctor tell me what political party he belonged to before my biopsy. I told him I did not want a Republican touching my breast! Ha ha. It made a huge hit, and when I arrived for my lumpectomy he made each of the residents in attendance tell me their party affiliation before we got started. You have to find humor in everything, if you can.....

Take care Leroy. Sending love.

Sent by Wendy | 11:18 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Sasha, I do hope your world is a little brighter and will allow you to have a peaceful weekend. Please know that we wish you and yours the best. Leroy sounds like he needs US lately and sure hope some good vibes come into his life. He has done so much for all of us.

Sent by J C R | 11:44 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Thank you for your post Leroy. My husband keeps these thoughts to himself, but I know I think them and I'm sure he does too.

Some people disappear when the going gets tough. I've had people congratulate me for sticking by my husband every step of the way. This always throw me for a loop because this is what we were trully made for...to go through life together through all the hard places.

Deciding to opt out when a fellow human - our friends and family are in pain - in spiritual bankrupcy.

I've raised five children. My oldest son almost died from meningitis at 9 months old. His brother seriously injured in a horrific motorcyle accident when he was 21 year old. My eldest daughter, who has 2 small children was recently diagnosed with epilepsy. My youngest daughter is a recovering addict. I have a niece who had open heart surgery at 9 months old. Everyone has their own list.

Life is not about how much we earn, acquire or how prestigous our careers. It is about how we care for each other. I like to say that raising children is not for the faint of heart. Neither is life.

Yes, it hurts and sometimes I want a break, too, Leroy. But I also want to feel, breath and fully experience every moment of the time that I have left with my husband.

This blog is about truth, JCR, not about what makes you feel good.

Sent by Ricci | 11:45 AM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy,

As someone who works with dying patients, I know that part of what makes it possible and rewarding for me is an acceptance of death as a part of life. My job is to make the last part of life as enjoyable, pain free, and healing emotionally as I can. Death doesn't bother me. Suffering of any kind does.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 12:05 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy and all -
I am an oncology social worker (and the mom of a child survivor). I work at a cancer support center. I think to many it may sound really depressing to think about working with cancer patients and their families. When folks ask what I do and I tell them it can be a real conversation stopper!

I so do not find it depressing. Like never. In the work that I do, I have the opportunity to see the best that people have to offer to one another - every single day. Each time I come to work, there is a strong chance that I could be witness to the best in humanity.
The journey I walk with clients and the stories I am humbled to I share with them cannot be made up. I know - it sounds really corny.

I swear, doing this work lets you be a part of such goodness and strength. Yes - you do experience death and loss. I also am able to provide support to folks and see the difference it is making.
Being present for people on their cancer journey eliminates many of the challenges they face such as isolation and loss. When I think about this, realizing what a great opportunity I have to do this work, walking away seems incredibly difficult.

I know it sounds kind of big and way out there but honestly - in this job I am given a privilege to share the journey of a lifetime with people every single day.

Sent by Melissa T | 12:35 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy
My husband has glioblastoma (brain cancer) which usually gives you about 12 months. However, he is now 3 1/2 years out! This past fall he was asked to speak to the Yale first year med students for an end-of-life seminar. Most med school classes focus on making the patient well, so this was a unique opportunity to have the students discuss how they will deal with terminal patients. There were many questions and lots of thoughtful discussion, and they seemed to appreciate hearing from a patient's point of view what we want from a doctor. For many it seemed that this was just the beginning of thinking about how they will deal with this. Certainly, the discussion was beneficial for both us and the students. But as you say, thank God they are able to do it and help all cancer patients as much as they can.

Sent by Pat | 12:44 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,

Today's query, as always, inspires thought and reflection. You are so very good at what you do! It is indeed a wonder, how all the folks who work in the medical and hospice areas continue, day in and day out, to bring so much light and compassion and expertise in the face of the myraid of life-threatening challenges and heartaches that are so much a part of Cancer World. Bless and keep them (and us!), every one.

After printing out and reading all the responses to your "How do you deal with depression?" and "My cancer ..." prompts, I marvel at the breadth and depth of the range of answers and the experiences from which they arise. What a wonderful community there is to be found in Leroy's Army! (However, I do believe most of us are Conscientious Objectors! :o) I have starred and underlined many, many of the nuggets of wisdom and practical advice -- And I'll have to admit, I've become a wee tad annoyed at the infrequent (and I hope blindly unintentional) harsh-ish "suggestions/insights" that emerge every now and then. I suppose we do represent a microcosm of the broader world at large; and therefore, not all advice is necessarily good advice.

Keep doing/being what is good and right for you. What an honor and privilege it is to share a small part of the walk with you and Laurie, Mondays - Fridays.

Now ... The weekend is your own. May you both enjoy a lovely one, with some measure of comfort and joy, and the beauties of springtime.

Thinking of you,

Kim Forester

Sent by Kim Forester | 12:52 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy,
That is an excellent question. I've wondered the same thing about Hospice nurses. By virtue of the requirements necessary to receive Hospice services it is almost certain that they will lose 100% of their patients. Then I read a book written by 2 Hospice nurses, "Final Gifts". They refer to the gifts that the living receive from the dying. Not only did this book offer some insight into how these folks are able to continue their work, but it forever changed the way I view my own mortality. It took away the fear. It's been a couple years since I read it. I bought about 20 copies and shared them with those that I cared about. I highly recommend this book.

Sent by James Wallman | 12:57 PM ET | 05-09-2008

And have you noticed how cheerful and bright the chemo nurses are? I often wondered if it was a facade for our benefit, or if they could truly separate themselves from the reality of what was happening, or if they were all just lovely optimists! Whichever, they deserve to be admired for the work they do.

Sent by Marilyn Trujillo | 12:58 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,

God Bless you. Best to you and Laurie.

Sent by Connie | 1:09 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy,
Have a wonderful weekend and God Bless. Happy Mothers Day to all where it applies...

Sent by Kathleen, NJ | 1:33 PM ET | 05-09-2008

This evening,in a little chaple in Maryland I will be praying for you at 5PM. I hope you feel all the prayers and good wishes that are surrounding you. A thought on nursing.......In my work with AIDS patients,I start each day with a prayer that I will have the wisdom, love and charity that will sustain me as I minister to others. Yes, sometimes it is exptremely difficult, but the rewards are endless. I am constantly amazed at the courage, and the dignity of those that are suffering from a life threatening illness.The hardest part is to see people in pain.

Sent by Anne Burke | 2:13 PM ET | 05-09-2008

speaking as one who has lost several close relatives to cancer, my own answer is this.

i knew that i would eventually have forever to be sad.

my father used to say, "i'm not dying. i'm *alive* until i'm *dead*." it was easy to adopt the same attitude.

we really do have forever to be sad; and i am sad now. but the weight of that sadness is lightened by the fact that i was able to significantly delay the start of 'forever', and that together, we all used that time well.

Sent by mary | 2:38 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,
As a Hospice and psychiatric Home Health care giver for almost 17 years, and as a sister who recently lost my younger brother to Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer, I can honestly say, "no, we never forget."
I may not be able to recall each of my clients names, but my memories of each one's unique battle, courage, pain, suffering and story- I do remember. It is through them, and people like you and my dear brother, that I draw my strength.
You are an incredible person; strong, brave, and eloquent, who continues to rage and fight against this horrid beast called cancer. Your insightful and heart felt blogs, have helped so many. You helped my brother daily, in his quest to continue to fight against his journey with cancer. As a family, we read your blog when Scott was diagnosed, and continue to read it, to support you and the countless others effected by this senseless disease. Also, to remind us how precious time and life are. To be grateful, even and maybe especially for the mundane.
I wish you well and think of you often.
Just as I do for my present clients, just as I do, for my heroic brother.
I feel blessed to know and be a part of such an amazing group of people.
The fighters, and the care-givers.
Please know we are right beside you, fighting all the way.

Bless you, Leroy-

Sheri Swaner

Sent by Sheri Swaner | 2:45 PM ET | 05-09-2008

As a medical oncologist, that question is one I am often asked. My life and work have evolved in ways that I could have never foreseen when I started down this path. But in how many fields do you get to know such an amazing group of people? I will never stop being in awe of my patients' courage, dignity, strength and fortitude, despite dealing with terrible diseases, and worse treatments. I am in awe every day, and humbled, by the grace with which they carry themselves through life. I can only hope that I would have such bravery in adversity.

Sent by Joni Nichols | 2:53 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,

There is a tremendous benefit that healthcare providers receive from caring for people like you. It is very rewarding, and a privilege, to be a trusted participant in the highest of human dramas. To travel that path with a patient and their loved ones, to help the healing process, and if not that, to relieve needless suffering...that is the gift.

Remember, people choose this path, they are not forced. We all would like to think we make a difference...why did you become a journalist? Devoting your life to helping others is as rewarding a career as you are likely to find. Psychologists often tell unhappy patients: if you want to be happy, go volunteer and help people...at your church, in the community, or at your local hospital. The reward is there is the faces of those you help, and in your own heart.

God bless,

Steve

Sent by Steve | 3:09 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy, I worked Pediatric Oncology for a time and always found it very diffcult when a patient died. For me, I decided the outcome was not something I could control, but I could control how I treated kids and their families. I vowed to treat my patients as kids who have cancer, rather than cancer that is a kid. It was one of the most rewarding jobs in my 30 years of nursing and I still think of all the kids and their parents.

Sent by Carolyn | 3:40 PM ET | 05-09-2008

It is tough not to think about cancer when it is part of our lives. We live it every day, whether we are the patient or the caregiver. It is comforting to many of us who are journeying with cancer to be able to talk about it and be understood and accepted. Many people do not truly know the pain, fear, and isolation we suffer and it is not a case of getting into a better mood or frame of mind. It's not that easy. Leroy - your blog is intensely personal, conforting and supportive, enough in the most reflective times. Do not change - we are here for you too as you are always there for us. This is a special community of people and I am honoured to be part of it.

Sent by Tina from Alton IL | 3:51 PM ET | 05-09-2008

I thank God everyday for the love and care the 5th floor staff showed Neil, myself and his daughter. It was those ladies that held us when he passed and let us cry as long as we wanted. I will never forget the love and compassion of those caregivers! They truly are a gift from God!
Have a wonderful weekend! For all you parents out there! Happy Mothers Day!

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 4:43 PM ET | 05-09-2008

The oncologist that treats my husband tries not to get too close. He never calls us by our first names, always Mr. & Mrs. how are you today. We try to joke with him, but he keeps his distance. It has been over 2 years, seeing him every 3 months & he still keeps his distance. I don't blame him. I am a nurse & knew an oncologist many years ago who did get close to his patients. He committed suicide one day & none of us were surprised because he just cared too much & lost too many patients. No, I don't blame our doc for not getting too close. He needs to take care of himself if he is going to care care of my husband. Have a great weekend Leroy & all of us in cancer world including those who care for us.

Sent by Kathy | 4:48 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Our local PBS television station, WGBH, just aired a program called "The Truth About Cancer." In this program one of the oncologists discusses how people react when the find out his profession. He mentions that it is almost poison at social gatherings. They ask him the same question you asked today, Leroy. His answer to "How can you do it?" is "How can I not?" I, for one, have marveled at the humanity, sensitivity and compassion of those in the oncology professions. They are giving us in cancer world some of the greatest gifts. I think most of us in cancer world will never go back to wondering what places these career choices came from. I am satisfied with thinking that our teams are for the most part angels here on earth.

Wishing all a peaceful, restful weekend.

Sent by Sheara | 5:33 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy,
Ahhhh, something I can finally write about. When I was taking care of Melody, I actually was on auto-pilot. I didn't deal too much with my feelings and my fears because I always felt that my feelings were secondary compared to what she had to deal with. I was soooo busy running myself ragged (and really not caring that I was doing that), that I had no time to deal with my feelings and fears. I would update my family and friends on what was going on, but I had to be the rock for her. If she saw me breakdown, she would have broke down. In her opinion, if she would have broke down, the Beast would have had won a small (or large) victory. It would have shown the Beast weakness. After she had passed away, that is when I found your blog. After the first night, I was hooked! That was December of 2006.
What your blog has done for me is make me deal with the feelings I would have dealt with if I would have allowed myself to do when she was alive. Through your blog, I have relived her cancer. When I read things from you, I remember thinking those things, and feeling those feelings and pushing them off to the side knowing I would be dealing with them later. I had no idea how, but knew they would find me, somehow, some way.

So Leroy, without you, I would be a basketcase because Melody was the most important, most influential and the biggest love of my life (next to my daughter). So if it gives you any peace, know that you saved me! You helped and are still helping me heal! And now that I am almost well again, know that I will still be here reading and rooting you on and supporting you through whatever way I can.

I love you Leroy!!!!

Sent by Michael (Caregiver Survivor) Chicago | 5:40 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy, My day in the cancer world was not so good. My scans showed growth. The current chemo is not working. This leaves us with two choices, only two. We all know we are buying time, and hoping for the miracle, they do happen, but only to 20 out of 100.
I am Stage IV Renal Cancer, and like you, know my chances of living long are not good. My wife, on the other hand, is in denial. Today is the first time I really understood this. The Fear is all consuming. She has heard all the same things, she has been at the doctors office, but she has not heard. You can't make someone understand. This is difficult for me beyond the cancer, I worry for her.

It's a major kick in the gut for sure, was hoping for something else, anything else. Cancer never seems to take a back seat, it always wants shotgun. All I can think about, is, this is the news she gets for Mothers Day!! It's hard to stand up to some of the body blows!! Hope your weekend is better than mine. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 6:02 PM ET | 05-09-2008

In thinking about how your doctors and friends see you, I wonder if you've thought of this status: you have kind of become a rock star to me. As a "Born to Run" obsessed teenager, after seeing a piece on a news show about Bruce Springsteen saying what a great guy he was, it solidified my life's adoration for him. Although I've only spent a year and a half as your fan, and I'd consider myself as knowing you better than Bruce now, you are right up there. Granted my adoration of you was established in the cancer world, not the music industry, but I believe the honest and compassionate way you approach all of us gives you hall-of-fame status. I just like your outlook, and really think you are a great guy. Rock on, Leroy.

Sent by ksc | 6:04 PM ET | 05-09-2008

I am a nurse and cancer survivor and have found my career in nursing has been a blessing, in that I have received so much from the patients I have cared for. Sure, it is difficult to see people suffer, but to be able to alleviate some of it is so rewarding. I also was able to witness, as a patient, the skills, compassion and sharing of the oncology nurses who care for me. I guess it is just an honor to be part of someone else's life when we are most needed or needy.

Sent by Katy Gerritt | 6:19 PM ET | 05-09-2008

I think that people have callings. You have been called to journalism and you are gifted in that area. Through your writing you have touched many people. Many people couldn't put two words together much less the creative writing you have been gifted with! So it is with most professions. My husband was called to the firefighting/paramedic profession. Without those wonderful people, think of all the "road kill" that would be around (sick humor, I know). Same with those who work in the oncology field...they are called to it and aren't we glad they answered the call! Aren't we glad that there are landscape architects, farmers, animal doctors, smiling receptionists, pastors, and soldiers? My list could go on and on...the world is a better place when we follow God's call to do His work wherever it may be!

Sent by Carol | 8:07 PM ET | 05-09-2008

I can honestly say I love all of my oncology nurses. This week I finally switched over to hospice care but it was so hard to say good bye to all my chemo nurses as we had become such a family (yes I will stil see them while I am able but it will be different than our weekly get togethers.
I was also very honored to have my hemo oncologist ask if he could be my hospice physician too.In general he said he hands off the case to the hospice team. He said he had grown to know me so well & to be so close, that he wanted very much to remain actively involved in this last part of my journey. I was quite touched that he would add to his already very large case load to care for me.
I will have been an RN 30 yrs this December & one constant I think & pray is that I was as kind of nurse as the ones I have been blessed with so far. I love you Rosanne, Katrina, Laurie, Mary Lynn &Dr. T. you are indeed angels here on earth.

Sent by Cherie Brown | 9:15 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Dear Leroy,

Don't feel you have to comment on cancer for every blog. Unrelated topics are also welcomed.

Maybe a response to Wendy's post? 10 things to know about your doctors... what insurance do they carry and how did they vote in the primary? (By the way, Wendy - when I was coming out of surgery a few years ago I kept asking my doctor her age!)

I look forward to seeing the next installment. I hope that while I am writing this, you are enjoying an evening with your friends.

Liz

Sent by Liz L. | 10:42 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Leroy, I have also made friends who are survivng cancer and tho normally don't give it much thought sometimes it stops me in my tracks to think of loosing them. Having said that I wouldn't give them up for the world. Have a good weekend.

Sent by Beth | 11:27 PM ET | 05-09-2008

To all the health care profesionals, I salute you with all my heart. You can make such a differnce in a person's life. And to you, Leroy, you teach me something new every day. It is rather like an on-line course in cancer. This has helped me in a million ways--some have nothing to do with cancer! To Shasha: I hold you in my thoughts every day and was glad to see your sweet posting today.

Sent by N.Holmes | 11:36 PM ET | 05-09-2008

Many nice comments here and I appreciate your honesty Leroy. I have often wondered the same thing. The pros and caregivers are exceptional people. We are all mortal and must die but in how we live we show the best of ourselves. By helping, sharing and caring they are truly angels on earth.

Sent by Rich | 12:10 AM ET | 05-10-2008

Leroy, you're sounding a bit morbid lately. My friends here in the ER and I talk about terminal illness from time to time as we frequently see patients when they're diagnosed and also when they come back very ill and near the end of thier lives. We hardly ever see them in the "middle" of the illness when they are still able to get out and do the things they enjoy. Having this experience most of us here would recommend that you get out while you can--go back to Hawaii, run up the charge cards, whatever. They have hospitals there, doctors, pain meds, the pain you feel certainly might feel less consuming if you're by the pool with a Mai Tai. So you have to take the walker, the wheelchair--focus on something that would make you happy then GO DO IT....A prescription that WORKS!(Warning may be habit forming)

Sent by S. Carrier MD | 8:51 AM ET | 05-11-2008

JCR...I just have to say this and hopefully you do not take this the wrong way but you do realize that this a blog about Cancer? Leroy's Cancer Journey to be exact so chances are whatever he writes about on this blog is going to either be directly or indirectly linked to cancer. It can be a tragic and terrible disease and seeing how Leroy has recently written that he is still in constant pain, and still using a walker to get around because of the cancerous tumors on his spine that it is probably pretty difficult for him to get away from it and the thoughts on his own mortality. The way in which he expresses his thoughts and feelings on his journey is incredible, and in the process he touches the lives of probably thousands (if not more) of people. I can't think of a better definition of a journalist than that.

Sent by S A | 6:21 PM ET | 05-11-2008

Well said S A. I'm sure Leroy makes it look easy but I bet he works hard at this blog and by working hard and doing something he loves he must be able to put his pain on hold for a while and feel good that he is helping so many of us.

Now to the question of the day: years ago my mother fell and broke one hip and damaged the other one that had been replaced years earlier. When I was told that she would have surgery the next day I called her GP and asked if that was a good idea since her heart was in such a bad condition. His response was "Well, she's going to die anyway". It was good that he was 2500 miles away when he said that, I was very angry and may have done something I'd have been sorry for. Now I'm starting to think that it was not what he said but how he said it. Half way through my chemo a CT and a PET scan showed spots in my liver. My oncologist explained that I would not be a candidate for liver surgery or replacement and there was no cure. The way she said it didn't make me feel angry just sad. She then said that they would add Avastin to my chemo. After my last chemo treatment I had a CT scan and there was no indication of spots in my liver. When I mentioned that to the Chief of Surgery, who had taken over my case while my surgeon was on maternity leave, he said " Well in two years there will be spots all over your liver". That made me angry, it was the way he said it. When my surgeon came back I mentioned it to her. Her response was "We are all going to die some day". The way she said it didn't make me angry, it made me think and Leroy's question made me think. I'm involved in a battle and I'm not sure when or how it will end but some of these doctors are better at telling me about the risks.

Forty-three years ago I was involved in modifying an aircraft to do a very dangerous mission. Within weeks of being deployed the first of these aircraft was lost in combat and the condition of the crew was unknown. It was on December 22 and I spent the following week thinking about how the crew's families would make it through the holiday. I wondering if there was something that I could have done to prevent this loss. I finally came to the conclusion that I had done every thing I could to give these men the best chance for survival. They knew the risk when they volunteered for the mission and I had helped to give them the best tools for survival but the bad guys won that time. Since then I have worked very hard to make the best tools for our men and women in blue. I think the doctors and nurses working with cancer patients must work the same way. Maybe that's what helps them do it day after day.

Sent by Walt from LA | 6:31 AM ET | 05-12-2008

Leroy:

Sometimes people ask me the same question... and here is an essay I wrote about why I do what I do...

http://www.thisibelieve.org/dsp_ShowEssay.php?uid=38596&lastname=tejura&yval=0&start=0

And yes, there are days I wonder why... those are the days when I've lost a patient.. and come home in tears..whether they be external or internal..

It is a hard field to be in... but it's the most rewarding thing i've ever done in my life.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 11:59 AM ET | 05-12-2008

I'm wondering: do you ever forget that you have stage 4 cancer? There are times when I forget I have it, but there are also times when it's all I can focus on.

Sent by Katy | 2:25 PM ET | 05-12-2008

Leroy - your topic today is something I can also relate to - I am a nurse, a cancer survivor, and a cancer widow. Most of my career has been in the field of rehab and skilled care at home. I never forgot that my patient was dying. I felt it was my duty to make whatever they were going through at the time as comfortable as possible. As a young nurse, I saw all death as a tragedy, but after 30 years, I see it as a completion of a cycle - the cycle of life. Every day I looked at Paul I knew that he was not going to get better. I knew the outcome, as I had seen it before. But for him, I did just as I have tried to do for all the others - just make this part of life as comfortable as possible. There is nothing I can do to change the outcome, but I can do a lot to make the trip better.

Sent by Jeanette Carney | 10:15 PM ET | 05-13-2008