'Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride'

 
“I think sometimes that I am more positive in the blog, in writing to all of you, than I feel for myself.”
 
 

So we're off into the uncharted territory of a third year of the My Cancer blog.

Once we cross over into Cancer World, we all become strangers in a strange land. What to expect, what to hope for, what to fear -- none of those are clear right now.

I have a confession to make.

I think sometimes that I am more positive in the blog, in writing to all of you, than I feel for myself. Maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that things are better than I think.

Over the last two years, we've clearly learned that it is possible to live with cancer. I've learned that I am stronger than I ever thought, physically and emotionally. There are times when I get frustrated or angry, but I know now that those times will pass.

So where will this road take us now? Where will my road take me?

It's too simple to say we'll just have to wait and see. But there is still mystery here. Early on in the blog, I used a quote from Hunter Thompson: "You buy the ticket, you take the ride."

That somehow seems like a good place to start year three.

The ride has lasted longer than I expected, but I have my ticket. I'm committed to ride.

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I have a plaque that has this quote on it:
"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive well preserved body, but rather to skin in sideways, chocolate in hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

Thank you for allowing us to ride with you.

As the week progresses, I'll find others to share... I am more in reserve.

Sent by Sue Chap | 8:16 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,
We love you whether your angry at cancer or relishing a simple pleasure. You've let us hitch a ride with you, and we are all better because of the ride.
There are curves and hills and rough road ahead, but we're with you, as long as it goes.

Sent by GFC | 8:26 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Hey Leroy, Hold that E-Ticket tight, 'cause it's still one heck of a Grand Ride. Sending peace and joy to you and Laurie.

Sent by Stitches | 8:35 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,
You know, I would think that there are so very, very many mixed emotions going through cancer world. Don't ever lose HOPE - I would think that is something really important to hold onto! And everything is more real and easier to get into - the fear and anger and the things that I don't really know about. Just remember, as always, we are all praying for you. G-d bless you.

Jan

Sent by Janice Goldberg White | 8:37 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, it is ok if you write on this blog more positive than you can muster up at times because I think by nature you seem to be a positive person and even just writing the words has got to help you feel some better and keep you going in the right direction. You need a goal, even if just short term and when you get there set another. Keep reaching even when it is hard to do. I hope you have had a good weekend and glad to see you back here this morning. We all miss you on the weekends. Keep on keeping on.

Sent by dorothy in Oregon | 8:38 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, I think we are all more negative inside than we try and let on to others...just makes you "normal" in Cancer World. 2 1/2 years ago they told me I might not make it long and here I am, about to go join my daughter for her Wedding! I'd like to burn my ticket-to-ride but Hunter was a wise man in his own way...as are YOU. Thank you for sharing this ride with all of us.
Doodles of happiness, even if just for today,
Ann in Virginia

Sent by Ann Van Tassell | 8:45 AM ET | 06-30-2008

As someone who doesn't have cancer, I cannot even begin to express the magnitude of things I have learned from ready your blog - and I'm not talking about learning about treatment for the disease. No, I am talking about lessons in strength, passion, positivity, courage, and love. Thanks for being a true inspiration for us all!

Sent by Sarah | 8:48 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,

You have mentioned this before.

Isn't that normal? Don't we say we feel better than we do? In the US our main greeting is "How are you" - automatically followed by "fine".

The beauty of this community is that here you don't have to! It's OK to admit your actual state. That's part of the point.

You do know one of the key ingredients in any successful garden is (something that NPR will edit out)...

another is

TLC. (You get that here too).

Sent by Liz L. | 8:52 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy - keep hanging in there. In this case, you were given the ticket free by Cancer World. Despite all you've learned, and cancer is not entirely negative, no one would willingly purchase a ticket for such as ride.

Every race I do for Team in Training, which will be every year or so until I can't do it physically anymore, I can't raise money anymore, or blood cancer is cured, I will write your name on my race shirt. I hope that in this small way I can honor your courage and determination.

I recently wrote a blog about my last Team in Training experience, which was the Arizona Marathon this past January. If anyone is interested, the link is http://racn4acure.blogspot.com/
and I will update it periodically. Once I sign on for my next race, I will update it frequently.

Have a good Monday, Leroy!

Sent by Art Ritter | 8:59 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy - I totally get that we always put a positive spin on things. I guess there are 2 ways to look at it: You can be honest and be accused of whining or you can "keep your sunny side up" and it might improve your mood?

I don't know - what I do know is whatever you choose to say, you tend to write it very eloquently; thus putting into words what alot of other people can't - and improving the "collective experience."

So here's my permission to be brutally honest - I can't imagine it not helping.

Prayers in the Air from Indiana - as always,

Sent by Kelly | 9:11 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, it is indeed a good place to start year three. And thank, goodness, for it all - the year, the blog and you!

I think it is common for all of us to present a more positive face to the outside world than we do privately to ourselves. As you imply, we are all trying to shore each other up as we face our fears and look into the belly of the beast. And, in the process, maybe we will even convince ourselves that things might be rosier than we dare to hope.

I think this is why the suffering of caretakers is particularly keen. We see it all but we often censor our deepest thoughts in an effort not to burden the afflicted loved one with our own fears.

May Hope never die for you, Leroy. Hang onto it and Laurie for dear life.

Sent by Marilyn | 9:14 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Good Monday morning, Leroy. Wish I didn't have this ticket, but there's no turning back once it's in your hand. I'm happy, however, to be on the ride with you and your army. Nice to have a friendly hand to hold as we go up and down this roller coaster ride.

I've always been more positive in my blog, too, and I'm not sure why. I've often written how I was truly feeling, but always ended up deleting that text before posting because it just didn't feel right to share. I have a private blog that I can write those feelings in - just to get them out. Then I don't need to feel any remorse for what I might have shared at a vulnerable time. It works for me.

Here's to a good week for us all.

Sent by Dianne in Nevada | 9:14 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Good Morning Leroy, Laurie and the gang...

There's a lot to be said for 'bravado', as we pass it back and forth, it buoys us forward.

Riding on, ticket in hand. Have a easy day.

Sent by Joan S. | 9:22 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,

Here's hoping that we get another year of riding out of that ticket. But, if you don't mind, I'd like us to forgo the roller coaster for something like the Ferris wheel, where we can take it all in without body-jarring, stomach-turning, hair-raising "fun."

There is a question I'd like to ask the group, in handling a new situation for me. When a friend is diagnosed, and has bought the exact same ticket as yours; how much detail is appropriate to share? I want to be positive, yet I remember that early on in my own journey, I sought out all information, no matter how detailed - not all of it positive. I know that I will get some insightful answers from this crowd. So, thanks in advance.

Sent by Sheara | 9:30 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,
James Taylor speaks to "the ride". His voice and words help me stay balanced in cancer-world.

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time
Any fool can do it
There ain't nothing to it
Nobody knows how we got to
The top of the hill
But since were on our way down
We might as well enjoy the ride

The secret of love is in opening up your heart
Its okay to feel afraid
But don't let that stand in your way
cause anyone knows that love is the only road
And since were only here for a while
Might as well show some style
Give us a smile

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
Its just a lovely ride

Now the thing about time is that time
Isn't really real
Its just your point of view
How does it feel for you
Einstein said he could never understand it all
Planets spinning through space
The smile upon your face
Welcome to the human race

Some kind of lovely ride
Ill be sliding down
Ill be gliding down
Try not to try too hard
Its just a lovely ride

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
Its just a lovely ride

Now the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time

I think you've shown a lot of style.
Much love, Debra

Sent by Debra in New Hampshire | 9:31 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Good Morning Leroy~ Oh yes, you are so right, I believe in all you said this morning. We must take what comes, as it comes, in this world, hang on tight, and take the ride. I appreciate your being realistic and not kidding yourself or us either. I remember when my Oncologist began my Chemo routine years ago, I would get my shots, pop a mint into my mouth and jump in my car and drive to work for a full day of Title Business. Never missed a beat! My boss would look at me and ask, "Did you HAVE IT?" and I would cheerfully say "yes, No problem". Then one day when I came bouncing into the Oncologist's office, He said that he thought I appeared a "little too happy" and that he thought he would reduce the amount of Prednisone I was getting. "Don't want you going around telling everyone that "CHEMO IS COOL!" So he did and I gradually came down from Cloud Nine and back down into the real, Cancer, world. We tend to get a little too Macho about the entire experience sometimes.
Although our friends and fellow travelers all look great in the Gallery, I do think that we are putting on our best faces for this Blog sometimes. We all know that once it has reared it's ugly head, Cancer never truly leaves our bodies. It will lurk around and look for a vulernable spot to strike. All we can do is try to stay a step ahead of it, prepared for whatever comes, and enjoy those around us who make up our lives and stick with us. I love Burge and Nikki and admire her !

Sent by J C R | 9:40 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, you could not be more awesome - brave, honest, and wise. Sending peaceful thoughts your way...

Sent by Denise | 9:48 AM ET | 06-30-2008

LeRoy,

Having been diagnosed in Jan 2005, about the same time as you, (me - ovarian cancer) I've often felt that you've gave eloquent voice to everything I was experiencing. My cancer is recurrent for the fourth time, "exploded" as you say, and it's possible you and I will get off this ride about the same time. We seem to be statistical norms...fighting for the five year mark. I think all of us in your army somehow know that behind the insightful words are days of torture and pain that haven't been given much voice, but that's OK. It's not that you're hiding anything, it's just that we all know the ugly stuff is there...none of us have to stare at it to understand it. What we do struggle to make sense of, along with you, is how this beast can reveal so much beauty. I guess it's part of the truth that everything has an opposite--much pain/much strength. None of us said "ooh cancer--sign me up!", but realizing we're here, we face it eye to eye. Thanks to Deborah for the beautiful lyrics, to Sue Chap for the great quote, and to God for giving us all another day to see the faces of our beloved ones, hear a bird sing, trace the green of leaves against a blue sky. This life and world is such a gift, even on the days when it all hurts, inside and out. And thanks to you, LeRoy, for giving voice to us all.

Sent by Kim Madsen | 9:55 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy -

Almost 20 years ago I took a Dale Carnegie course - you know, of "Win Friends and Influence People" ilk. One of the course mantras was "if you ACT enthusiastic, you'll BE enthusiastic." As a cynical, know-it-all 20-something year-old at the time, I thought that was a crock.

Well, time has passed and I've changed my mind. Sometimes just mustering the energy to act enthusiastic really does result in making me feel more cheerful and positive. So, I'll wager the same's with you - at least I hope so. Regardless, we readers and responders appreciate your unvarnished honesty; never feel you have to put on a happy face for us.

Sent by Lisa Laico | 9:55 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, about being more positive on the blog - I do the same thing. We're trying not to let people down, or to take away their hope. We're "being brave", "being positive". The key thing is to have a place where you can show your other face - scared, angry, tired, frustrated, pessimistic -- when you need to. Remember that you are all those things, positive and pessimistic, brave and afraid, angry and calm. As long as you aren't feeling like you're only *allowed* to have one set of feelings.
prayers & warm wishes,
Amy in NYC

Sent by Amy | 9:56 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, Wow, you have just written the way I have felt many times on my journey. We so often try to put on the positive face for those we love, but you know what...I find if I just keep doing it I begin to feel positive and the journey does not seem so scary. Faith, Faith, Faith is what gives me peace and calmness along the bumps. I hope I can take my family and friends along with me until the very end when my ticket gets punched. Then my soul will begin a new journey. You write for us, we write for you and it all comes around to each of us as a very special gift. This blog is an amazing place to find comfort, support, caring and to give it back to you and all who write here as each of us can in our unique ways. Leroy, have a great week and sharing with us how you are truly feeling is okay I promise.
Hugs to you and Laurie
Paula

Sent by Paula Swink | 10:07 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dude! As Margo Channing once said, "Hold on to your seats, it's going to be a bumpy night." And that's pretty much what it has been on your blog. We rejoice in the good things, swear at the bad, cry at the sad, and sigh at the indifferent. But, all in all, thank you so much for allowing us to hitch!

I wish you peace.

Sent by Joyce in FL | 10:08 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Sheara:
What you did, "I sought out all information, no matter how detailed - not all of it positive", sounds like the approach most of us took when diagnosed. It sounds good to me. To stay ignorant of all possibilities is a road to disaster, like hiding your head in the sand.
A fellow survivor in Arizona said it well, "always have hope, but try to find peace with whatever might happen". That sounds like an excellent philosophy for all of us.
Love, Don

Sent by don winslow | 10:10 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Buying a ticket?

I'd go more with shanghaied... We're conscripted to crew a ship called Cancer. It's hard to sail, rides rough and is going to ports unknown. We toil daily with sea sickness, survived being surgically keel hauled, have taken undeserved Chemo lashes & still have little understanding of this bizarre seamanship. Though unsure, we're putting our trust in the oncologist's navigation skills to find smoother seas and someday get us to a friendly port. Till then, our ship's crew will get us through.

Hold Fast and teach your parrot some salty words...

Don MacLeod

Sent by Don MacLeod | 10:21 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,
Getting my morning fix of the blog! First,it's ok to feel the way you do, Leroy. I'd worry about you (or us) if we were always upbeat. Coping takes a tremendous amount of stamina and energy and we're bound to have our "down times..." I love Sue Chap's quote and should get one of those plaques as well. None of us are going to come out of this alive, but we should at least enjoy the ride in the process (or share support when the times get tough)

I turn 56 this week, the age my own mother died of cancer back in '75. A little creepy. My son, who lives in Boston, showed up on the doorstep this morning to help me celebrate (he's a chef who scrambles for 2 days off in a row so this is a real treat!) I'm at work now but I'm bagging it mid-day so I can spend some time with him.

Take good care, good thoughts go with you always!

Sent by betsey in albany ny | 10:32 AM ET | 06-30-2008

It's OK Leroy, I understand the inner feelings may be darker than what comes out. That's normal isn't it? I think so. But do not fret you CAN say anything to us...we certainly understand. Sometimes when you feel really bad or fearful it helps to find someone to talk to then reaching out to others like us can help the feeling completely pass...or at least you forget about it temporarily maybe as you read our blogs. Plus we just can't bear to divulge all our feelings and fight the beast at the same time: Keep on keepin'on.

Leroy, I also just finished reading a beautiful and very helpful book: "Love and Death" by the minister of All Souls Unitarian Church on the upper east side of Manhattan, Forrest Church (the son of the deceased Senator from Iowa Frank Church). At age 59 Forrest is dying of Esophageal cancer. He wrote this book between February 2008 and now, as his "goodbye". He tries to answer so many of the questions you have posed to us at this blog. I realize you may not be interested in reading anything right now but this is a short read and was extremely good for me. I just thought I would pass it along especially since what he rights is so strikingly similar to what has passed between us on this blog. I thought you might want to read some of his answers to the same questions you have posed.

Love you, Graham from Sag Harbor.

Sent by Graham G. Hawks | 10:33 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Let's hope that we are all taking the ride for a very long time. My prayers are with you and your family always.

Linda

Sent by Linda | 10:37 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Thank you, and Bless You for all you have done for me.

Always, Cindy

Sent by Cindy Caldwell | 10:48 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Thanks for the brave confession. It's hard to share some of the darker moments in cancer world, although not sharing those moments can be another way the disease distances you from others. Then again, I can see why, especially in terms of hsaring your feelings in this blog, you lean towards the positive. You don't want to make anyone feeling down feel worse from reading it.

But you can share whatever you feel with us Leroy. You honor us when you do that. And thanks for sharing your ride so far.

Sent by N.R. | 10:49 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, we're here all together and that gives me strength. I smile to the outside world but here with you is an oasis where I can be myself. I feel sometimes that we are dancing in the dark, but I feel all of you close by, holding out your hands.
How I miss you all on the weekends.

Sent by Tina from Alton IL | 11:06 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,
Your confession won't surprise anyone here. Didn't you know, people who love you can see beyond mere words? Of course you're angry and frustrated (and maybe scared?) sometimes. What human being wouldn't be? And it's fine to show that here, you know. But I hope you can hold onto hope. Life is a mystery, as you say. Anything is possible.

As for that Hunter Thompson quote, that metaphor never quite made sense for me in this context. We didn't "buy the ticket" for cancer, it was thrust upon us! Anyhow,it sounds kind of punitive -- like "you asked for it!" Probably I'm misinterpreting...Maybe it just means that to be alive means we have to take the bitter with the sweet, the sorrows along with all the joy?

Sheara - Like you, I have a friend who was recently diagnosed with the same kind/stage of cancer as me. I try to balance the need to be honest with the memory of how stunned and terrified I was myself just after diagnosis. It seems to me that most people can't take in everything all at once.It's a process. It takes time to come to terms with the enormity of the whole thing. So - I guess my answer to your question would be to tell the truth, but not all at once. And remember that even if you have the exact same diagnosis, you might react differently to treatments, have different feelings and different outcomes.


Sent by Doris | 11:16 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Hi Leroy - long-time reader, infrequent commentator! but I too am guilty of self-censorship on my own blog... I tend to put a smiley face on my own [relatively minor by comparison] contretemps. Psyching myself up for another set of scans in 2.5 wks while I commend you for your ongoing courage & strength... You are an inspiration to us all.
www.endurovet.blogspot.com/

Sent by Val | 11:23 AM ET | 06-30-2008

The Secret of Life by James Taylor can be found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzpbl2LgHXU
Or just type in Secret of Life Youtube in your browser. Thanks Debra from New Hampshire. Lovely! Watch it, Leroy!

Sent by Wendy | 11:25 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, It is a come as you are thing, and here we all are standing in the Cancer World. I know the outcome, I have not forgotten the score. That last bit from a Peter, Paul, and Mary song. Like baseball this is not over until all the Innings have been played.

I hope we do better in the later part of the game, we seem to be behind so far. Thoughts to you both. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 11:32 AM ET | 06-30-2008

A quick post. Someone mentioned Forrest Church's book. I'd also like to mention one of my favorite songs, "Let It Be A Dance" by Ric Masten, a Unitatian Universalist minister and poet. You can find the words at http://www.ric-masten.net. Ric lost his battle with prostate cancer not too long ago. It's one of my favorites!

Sent by betsey in albany ny | 11:41 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,
You sound strong and hopeful today. Yes, it has been and will continue to be a wild ride.
When I was trying to be a serious business woman during the "women's movement" one of our slogans was "fake it 'til you make it". I'm still doing that!
Have a great week.
Charlotte in Rural Ridge, PA

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 11:46 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy and All,

You're never very far from my prayers and thoughts. Bless you all.

Sent by Connie | 11:53 AM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,
It is unimaginable for anyone to understand where your brain is at this time. It has to be one of those situations that you can't even begin to address how you'll handle until you're in the situation. As positive and prepared and logical as you sound, there has to be fear about what the next few months will bring. Even if all your 'business' is in order and you don't fear death itself. Maybe I'm just projecting.
Your blogs of the last couple of weeks have really made me think..how do I want to be remembered, how do you/what do you tell people? And our community's responses have further encouraged thought.
It takes courage to live, and die.
My respect for you is immense. Thank you.

Sent by elm | 12:02 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy

Thank you for your honesty. We have all been there, trying to be positive, not wanting others to see doubt or insecurity. Three years is a long time, Leroy.

But not long enough.

Sent by Teri Thomas | 12:08 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,

In your blog (as I imagine in your life), you are expansive and inviting and thought-provoking ... You are a student of this life, and journalism is a natural fit for such wonder and curiosity. Your acknowlegement that every day is not as fine as you might portray it comes as no surprise to any of us, dear friend. We all appreciate your positivity as well as your honesty, and you blend the two together in the best of ways. We are all better people for reading your messages each day; absorbing just a wee bit of your integrity (and heart) as we read on.

Thank you, more and more every day, for the gift of your thoughts and for the gift of YOU ~

Wishing you a very good day today; and much love and care and friendship,

Kim Forester

Sent by Kim Forester | 12:20 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, I love the ticket analogy. I have another slant on the ticket thinking. It's about a train ticket. It goes like this:

The Train Ticket
One of my favorite authors is Corrie ten Boom. She was a Christian who truly lived by God's call to love one another. That was tested by the fact that she also lived in Holland during the time of Nazi occupation. She and her family helped hide Jews in their home and were instrumental in organizing the Haarlem underground that saved the lives of countless people. Amazing woman. I can't even begin to do justice to her incredible life. She has inspired me to be stronger
In her book The Hiding Place she tells the following story from her childhood. While this tale is about strength in the face of death I think it is also applicable on a broader scale. Corrie had just witnessed death first-hand; a small baby in the neighborhood had died. It left her young mind feeling deeply upset and confused and afraid. When her father came to tuck her in that night all those feelings came tumbling out-
...that night as he stepped through the door I burst into tears.."I need you!" I sobbed. "You can't die! You can't!"...
Father sat down on the edge of the narrow bed. "Corrie," he began gently, "when you and I go to Amsterdam- when do I give you your ticket?"
I sniffed a few times, considering this. "Why, just before we get on the train."
"Exactly. And our wise Father in heaven knows when we're going to need things, too. Don't run ahead of him, Corrie. When the time comes that some of us will have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need- just in time."
Sometimes I look at the struggles other people face and I think, "I don't know how they do it." But then when I really take a step back and look at my life I think, "WOW! I don't know how I do it The future looks scary, obstacles block our way. Yet when the time comes we find the strength we need, often surprising ourselves. We do things we never thought we could.
Leroy a few years ago now, you might have thought about this time you are going through and said, "No way, I can't do it. That sounds too hard." It feels like you have been on one great big train ride and as you ride this train, God has placed your ticket in your hand and you have found strength to do more than you thought you could. You have blessed so many with your words and thoughts penned on this blog.
Your strength is incredible and inspirational to so many who are also on this train ride.
As you face these next months remember what Corrie's Dad said to her, "When the time comes... you will look into your heart and find the strength you need- just in time."



Sent by Debbie | 12:31 PM ET | 06-30-2008

So many great comments today. Leroy, your honesty, candor and your gift with words is a blessing to us all. Thank you for that wonderful gift. JCR, Sue, Don, your words are heartfelt always as well. I am so blessed to have this garden that nurtures our souls.
I am so thankful I was a part Neil's ride! I hope I made it a little less bumpy for him.
Happy Birthday Betsy from Albany...and Sasha, I hope you are healing!

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 12:42 PM ET | 06-30-2008

We all have that ticket and are taking that ride. Thank you for sharing your ride with us. We are better for it. I use the quote often and it lessens the nasties.
Have a good day.

Sent by anne lumberger | 12:42 PM ET | 06-30-2008

You're incredible, Leroy. You've given all of us so much these past three years. Thank you.

Sent by Grace | 12:44 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy,
I have been reading your blog for a long time. I deeply sympathize with your feelings of trying to present a more cheerful demeanor, trying to shield and protect others from one's deepest fear and pain.
I know my own feelings have been ambivalent. I have cancer and I want to think and talk about death. I want to prepare myself for it. But at the same time I (and especially my family) worry that if I give too much attention to death, I will not be giving enough to life. How does one prepare for death and live fully at the same time?
Hugs to you.

Sent by Liliana | 12:47 PM ET | 06-30-2008

I imagine you must sometimes feel pressured to be the best "you" possible in this public forum. To be the best example you can think of for how to deal with these overwhelming challenges while staying true to what you truly do value most. Also, at the moment you choose to think a certain way your real experience just might follow suite from that moment forward even though it's not how you experienced the same situation previously.

This is all totally understandable and normal. You can be whoever you want to be here. We understand and love you all the more for it no matter which way you go. It's ALL you....both sides.

Sent by Nichole in FL | 12:48 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Good morning Leroy, Thank you, Thank you for all your thoughts, strength, and honesty. And thank you to Debra in New Hampshire for James Taylor's poem, it is very much what life is all about, up and down, slide and ride with our "E" ticket in our hand, making the best of it. Afraid and with courage, we go foward without looking back, knowing that we did our best loving and in peace.
Peace be with you Leroy and have a pain free day.
Marelly

Sent by Marelly Young | 1:20 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,

Thanks for telling something I think we all knew - that you aren't always as up as you seem. We all need our defenses, but if you ever feel like just blasting away, I don't think there is a person here who wouldn't understand, commiserate, and love you anyway!

Blessings.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 1:34 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy:

Thank you for confirming what I hoped was true. Does that sound odd? One of the differences of opinion that I have shared with many in cancer world, is that, while it is important to remain as positive as possible, stuffing and concealing the NORMAL disappointment, rage, fear, and horror at finding oneself in this predicament, can't possibly be good for one's soul. Do I resent it when I see a young woman with a beautiful intact bosom . .. yes, for a minute. I forgive myself . . .let the feeling pass through me, and move on. We are creatures of dark and light. I worried as I read your blog that the pressure of staying "up" for such a huge audience would take its toll on you, and worried that I would be part of that pressure.

Perhaps you don't want to share those darkest moements with us, but they are indeed "part of the ride", to be acknowledged, not necessarily embraced.

Sending you as much light as I can,

Peggy Carey

Sent by Peggy Carey | 1:42 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,

Whatever you say is helpful to me. Your comments and the beautiful photo gallery remind me that there is more to every individual than their cancer journey. We have lives filled with hopes, dreams, fears, anger, joy, etc. No one knows when their ride will end. We can only focus on what's happening in the now. I, too, find your blog my morning "fix," and am so grateful to you and others who continue to share.

Sheara - I think it's OK to ask your friend "How much do you want to know?" before providing information. I didn't want to know survival rates or prognoses at the very beginning. I wanted (and got) people to say--Cancer is not a death sentence. There is a lot doctors can do. The stats don't mean anything--every individual responds differently. I'm here for you no matter what happens. Those sentiments did the most for me. When I was ready, I researched information on my own.

Sent by Susan B, Dayton, OH | 1:52 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Dearest Leroy: I know it is great to stay positive, for without a good dose of hope, there is no reason to keep going.

But those of us here know the reality side, too. I just don't know how much the new people need to hear...and I'm not certain that we should tell all.

It takes time to adjust to having cancer and there is a sequence that we all go through. Where a person is in that sequence cannot be determined through internet contact alone and sometimes I fear we could actually make things worse for new people.

More over, not everyone will go through the extremes others will, for as we know, luck plays a big part in life, even in the Cancer world.

On the other hand, knowing the truth is what we are all seeking and that is what makes this blog so important. Consequently, perhaps our "positive code" is the way to go, even when we aren't positive.

I don't think we should sugar coat anything, especially the emotions and feelings we have because that's why many of us come here day after day, but you are doing a great job of giving hope and that's what we need, too.

Just say what you need to say, we understand more than you can imagine.

When Burge was first Dx with cancer, I went to every site I could, read lots of books, asked lots of questions, but Burge asked me not to tell him everything. He left it up to me to filter what information I thought he could handle and that is exactly what I did. I told him the truth, although I didn't always elaborate because he didn't want me too, but I knew he (we) was in grave trouble.

I did show him lots of your blogs, however, and he appreciated your candor. He also appreciated a book called "The Colon Cancer Survivors Guide" by Curtis Pesmen in which Mr. Pesmen talked about his anger towards the cancer and his doctor who he blamed for not catching the cancer for years even thought he saw him regularly.

Tomorrow is Burge's 52 Birthday and I must be honest, I'm not handling things very well. This weekend, lots of the "really bad times" or "cancer torture" as I call it, came back full force. I can't believe he endured some of the things that happened especially with all the surgeries he had, which included infections and "screw-ups" that shouldn't have happened. That tortures me.

I know that Burge looks fairly good in his picture in the gallery, but that was a good day and we stopped taking pictures shortly after that...he actually had brown hair once, and always shaved, but stopped as a defiant statement to "the Cancer" vowing not to until he was NED.

He did stay positive to other, however, as a gift to them. You have given us a gift for the same reason even if we all talk in code.

I found it interesting that several of us have named you a "sunflower" in our garden. I thought of the "wild" kind rather than the "farm" kind as they are even brighter yellow than the garden kind, with dark black centers and small seeds. These grow among all kinds of weeds and adverse conditions and yet, keep their style and grace.

love to all

Nikki

Sent by Nikki in Kansas | 1:52 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, I've no idea where you get the energy or strength to write about what you hate the most (cancer) every single day. And to keep it positive has got to sap you as well. I can only imagine what you really want to say sometimes...something along George Carlin's "7 Dirty Words", perhaps? ;) And I'm sure some days you wish we'd all take a hike so you could crawl under the covers and make the world go away. Who could blame you?

My sister always tried to "keep it positive" whenever we talked, and I often wished she would just share with me the deepest, darkest pains and fears that I knew she held deep inside. I could take it.

Holding it in must be such a burden in itself. Just spew it and feel better. We can take it.

Sent by Kris C. | 1:53 PM ET | 06-30-2008

And thank God you are still here! You have found a way to contribute to the lives of many, cancer patient or not.

This personal tragedy has touched many and continues to do so. Let you continue many more days/months/years to help others confront this terrible disease.

Sent by Scott S. | 2:02 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Hey Leroy,
It's great to read your blog this morning. My Marina has been gone now four months, and I've wondered why I still read your blog. She used to have me read this blog to her every morning. Man you used to drive her crazy with your honesty and with your humbleness. I think this is what helped her get through the rough patches, the honesty. I now know why I still read the blog, it's the way you extract the truth from the reader through your words.
I was in the Navy and so I can relate to the ship analogy, thats how I felt when I was out to sea. I totally liked the body being all worn out story, cause thats how I want to go out. I also have found a new best song for the week. Thanks you who ever sent that in, I'll down load it and play it a hundred times until it's burned in my mind.
Thanks guys, I love you.

Have a good one Leroy.

Sent by Donato Salazar | 2:34 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Liliana:
To live fully IS to prepare for death. That's the only way it makes sense to me! If you can accept that idea you will avoid any ambivalence.
Namaste, Liliana- the light in me honors the light in you. May we both rest easy by acceptance of what is.
Love, Don

Sent by don winslow | 3:14 PM ET | 06-30-2008

I too am beginning Year three...My breast cancer was diagnosed in 2006. I had multiple surgeries and survived Chemo. I know one thing for sure...Your blog has helped me get through each and every day...Thank you.

Sent by Helene Weingarten | 3:18 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Good day Leroy,

Thompson also wrote "I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours" and "Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether."

Take your pick.

Sent by Randy | 3:25 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Hi Leroy

Proverbs 3:5,6

God bless you, prayers from Joshua Tree.

Sent by Shannon in Joshua Tree | 3:46 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, I've been on the ride since 1989, of course, I am definitely not bragging. My point is; better to be on the ride then getting off of it. You just hang in there, take one day at a time and continue to be honest with us, this is one group of peole who definitely feel your pain. Peace to you and Laurie.

Sent by Ruth White | 3:47 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy - So true for many of us, I suspect. Be a good sport, put a good face on it for others. Write an upbeat message on this blog. But inside, doubts, fears, discouragement.

But you go on. I have often read between the lines of your messages, hearing your pain. But you go on. You are an inspiration. You are a human. And you go on...which is your gift to us. Thank you and bless you.

Sent by Wendy | 4:44 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,

Speaking only for myself, one of the main reasons that I come to the blog everyday is that I want to hear what you have to say about what you're going through. That's all the you's - the positive Leroy, the pissed off Leroy, the Leroy that can see the absurdity in the position that you've been placed in -- all the Leroys. Not just the positive one.

Alot of us have been in many of the places that you describe - as has been said above - there's no need to dwell on these. But remember that we all check in to see how you're doing with the ticket that you got. There's no need to put a positive spin on it for us. We're here for all the Leroys.

MTS

Sent by Marshall T. Spriggs | 5:01 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,
I understand about the need to present a positive attitude to the world but in this particular world we all understand if the guard goes down once in a while. My husband lives by the expect the worst and be surprised when it's better school of thought and I am the opposite. His fight has truly been a commitment to the ride however. I have never seen a more accepting person than he is and he is truly an inspiration to all of us with his attitude. I hate roller coasters and when our first daughter was small we were all in the line and the closer we got the more paniced I became so I grabbed her and jumped the fence to freedom. Oh how I wish this roller coaster ride would allow us to get out of line but it will not so, like you, we stay on and make the best of each day. You are a huge part in my making it through the day sometimes. God bless.

Sent by Kathie | 5:42 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Nikki,
I'll be thinking of you tomorrow. Tomorrow is the 3rd anniversary of my best friend's death-hope that the good memories of your husband will bring a smile to you. Sasha, hope you are healing too.

Leroy, I hope that the pain is lessening. Thank you for your candor. Thanks for this blog. It brings me much comfort.

Sent by Jen | 5:47 PM ET | 06-30-2008

I have been along for your 'ride', listening to you on NPR, for some time now. But I never took time to check the blog. However, when I heard you the other day tell us that the cancer had exploded, I found myself listening and crying. You have become so much more than a voice being transmitted across these many miles to a farm in South Dakota. God's peace, my friend.

Sent by CSmith | 5:55 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Nikki,

You are such a sweetheart. Burge was very blessed to have you at his side with your advocacy and love. When those awful memories about mistakes and the horrors of cancer torture--the bad times come back-- just hang in there. It will pass. I went through absolute horror with my dad dying 10 years ago of lung cancer that had spread everywhere. No one should have had to make the decisions I had to make alone. I did the best I could and realize now not many people could have delt with what I had to deal with. Now when I tell people what I went through (which is not often because even after 11 years it is too horrific for me to go back there) they can't believe how I made it through this experience. My sister was diagnosed with what was supposed to be terminal cancer at the same time so she couldn't handle my dad's circumstance. My mother refused to take part in any decisions or even take care of my dad until the last two months of the eight he was dying. I shouldered the entire burden honoring my father and fighting, I mean fighting for his dignity when every doctor /intern/nurse saw him as an 'object' an impediment to their dealing with other more important patients that had a chance to 'live'. I would have none of this behavior: none of it!

Anyway, I was by his side through it all. I slept with him to calm him when his fears shocked him awake in the night or when the pain was so bad even the morphine didn't help. I held him in my arms then and cried with him. I can't bare to mention the worst and it wouldn't help. Suffice it to say that after he died, at home, the recurring memories came up totally unexpectedly...the good and bad. Sometimes it felt like blows to the stomach. But in time, I came to realize what a profound thing I had done for my dad. It is very simple, I was just there for him (like you were for Burge) and words were not necesary. He knew I was fighting for him and he asked me not too but everytime I did our bond grew stronger because I was always there. At the very worst I was right there by his side again holding his hand and stroking his forehead. Years later I now realize it was the greatest accomplishment of my life to tirelessly be there for him through it all. You will see --this too shall pass-- and you will realize all the gifts Burge gave you: the strength you now have is his love left in you, forever. NO ONE can ever take that away from you. His love of you and your love of him will transform you. I could see it in the photo of the both of you: the great bond between you. Try not to be too hard on yourself, do what you need to do in order to let it all settle and some day you will feel like you again and realize the truth about your cicumstance. You are a remarkable person, deep, loving, caring it shows in your words and your face. Remember: hang in there it beats the alternative. If I could do it so can you.

with all my love,

Graham from Sag Harbor.

Sent by Graham G. Hawks | 6:39 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Sheara:
When I was first diagnosed I only wanted to here the positive stories. I attended a support group where everyone told their stories at the beginning. One woman was on her fifth recurrence and had metasteses to the bone and liver. I had not had surgery, and was unclear about the extent of my own disease. As I listened to her story I almost fainted, and someone in the group had to help me to keep me from falling. Remember how scared you are in the beginning? So, my advice is: only answer questions, don't offer anything other than understanding, "I felt that way too" or "you can call me when you can't sleep."

Peggy Carey

Sent by Peggy Carey | 6:42 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Hi Leroy,
I was diagnosed last January. Reading your blogs really let's me know and believe that the man upstairs has the last word for our comings and goings.

Hang in there.

Sent by Nita | 7:12 PM ET | 06-30-2008

I know you put a good spin on things for the blog. I am overwhelmed by the pain our disease causing others. I can cope with the prospect of my own death but seeing how sad it makes others makes it so much worse.

I would also like a checklist for the end. You talked about "getting your affairs" in order. I think I know everything we need to do and hopefully have tended to these but worry I will miss something.

Know that we will all be along for the ride as long as possible. Peace

Sent by Dona | 8:13 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy (and Laurie, too)...bleed here. We know. We hear, we understand.

Although I do also agree with Nikki. It's an individual course to travel, and setting out all the milestones doesn't necessarily fit, and may cause undue alarm. We have a lot of things in common but not all.

As one of the "guys in the basement," I knew what kind of ugly we were headed toward but I never shared the nasty details. We simply dealt with them as they came (I'm sure Nikki and Elaine and Laurie H and Kathy and others get it)

Terry would just say "I don't want to know." That made it even more heartbreaking when I'd get the "why me, why now?" questions.

Terry's serious decline started with a stroke in September 2006, and it was a no-brakes downward spiral until the end in Feb 2007. We also found out in that time there had been a heart attack at some point in the past.

So no--I don't believe the unvarnished truth helps a lot sometimes, but by the time someone's been here long enough to decode the language, it seems they're ready to know the truth. I don't think any of us are hiding from it. Maybe we're just being polite.

I know there are a lot of words not on George Carlin's "7 Words" list I could peel off at a moment's notice. :-)

Sent by Bruce | 8:51 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Dear Leroy, I suspect that many of us have moments when we are more positive with others, than we feel. And that is okay. Hopefully we know those moments when we need to own our worry with others, and tell them about our ride. I know yours is a really bumpy one right now, so I wish you moments, long moments of reprieve. When that happens, breathe them in like you would smell your favorite flower. Maybe in the ride there could be moments of beauty.

Sent by Linda | 9:04 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy and Laurie,
Positive attitude is always good but sometimes impossible.
Nikki, I also will think of you and Burge tomorrow. I also agree about maybe the new ones don't need to know all--let them have hope. When I hear of a friend (or one of you) say that the surgery got all the cancer and they are so happy to not need any treatments afterward---I want to scream--"Take Chemo and radiation anyway!" It probably would not have helped Leon but I will always wonder if maybe...
Kathie, your husband sounds so much like mine did--calm and accepting of anything that came his way.
Donato, it has been almost 15 months since I had to give up my husband of 37 years and I still read this blog daily,
pray for, and worry about all here. You just become a part of this family.
Sasha, hope all is getting better for you.

Jane

Sent by Jane | 9:13 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Nikki,
You will be in my thoughts tomorrow....Thank you for sharing too...

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 9:59 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy,
You are wonderful. Who in cancer world isn't more positive for the world than they are for themselves privately? I love the quote a/b using up our bodies and sliding in the ground w/chocolate and wine screaming "woo hoo what a ride!"
love, jen

Sent by Jen in CA | 10:01 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Hey Leroy,
Truly, I do communicate more positive at times. It's cancer training time...don't let them see you sweat (unless they've been through on some level and have an idea of where you've been.) Even though we all know where you've been, and most have been on that road and have gotten off on different exits, you still want us all to have a safe ride using the right directions. Thanks Leroy for sharing the terrain.

Sent by Rockland Refugee | 10:09 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy, I know how you feel. Which reminds me of the first time I read your blog 2 years ago, and why I keep coming back for more. Thanks for being honest & saying it like it is. It's a comfort to know others feel the same way and understand.

Sent by Beth | 10:27 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy..My husband was diagnosed with 3B lung cancer on December 23,2006. He was to be given ""palliative" care. Surprise!!! He is what they call a total responder. I had him dead and buried. What I learned...you can never trust what the doctors say. They don't know everything. There is no sign of cancer at this point. I never expected to have him this long ..let alone in good health!!!Leroy...I have followed you since I saw you on T.V. I have always been afraid of what you might say. Well..what you said a few days ago ..ripped my heart out. You have been so strong...now it's time to let go. You do not have to be here anymore for the rest of us. You need time to yourself. Let us go. If you continue to speak..you will show how much you are desparetly hanging on. It's not good. We all wish that things could be different...They are not. I am so sorry for you. My heart bleeds. You are so young. I wish you well sir...Karen

Sent by Karen | 10:46 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Leroy:
Don't we all buy a ticket at birth? Okay, so none of us signed-up for the extra loop-de-loops, but still, doesn't everyone ride a ride? We live, we die. Please don't think I'm meaning that in a harsh way. I would never have chosen this particular ride. None of us would. However, I think of others that rode a shorter ride; classmates that were killed in auto accidents 10 years ago when their children were very small. How sad for their loved ones. I'm so thankful to be here today and I'm so thankful that all of you are still here with me.
Oh and regarding your messages being more upbeat than you really feel, just know that it's okay if you're not positive all the time. Hey, you're preaching to the choir.
Rhonda H

Sent by Rhonda Howard | 11:02 PM ET | 06-30-2008

Sometimes I think life is like a restaurant, where you pay on the way out. The more wonderful the meal - the more expensive the bill. The more wonderful our lives are, the harder is is to leave. But would you trade for a life of lousy or mediocre just to spare yourself to agony of parting?

Sent by Laura | 11:50 PM ET | 06-30-2008

It is very difficult to be positive and to hold on to that thought everyday. It is even more trying when things seem to go wrong. What I am trying to express is that a person becomes discourage and doubtful as to his or her prognosis and outcome. Even in the best of situations "Things can change,and go wrong" "Even when you do all the right things" There are simply no guarantees in the best of circumstances. To try to convince other that you have a positive attitude is still helping you, because it makes you reinforce your own attitude to do your best in remaining positive.I believe there is strength in having a positive attitude, it certainly doesn't hurt. I believe if anything it helps. And you are certainly giving yourself the best shot.
I pray that things will get better for you.
Page - Gresham Oregon

Sent by Page Hendryx | 5:24 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Don,
Thank you for your kind words. You are right, of course. Love to you.

Sent by Liliana | 9:23 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Thank you for baring your soul and sharing your cancer experience. As a six year cancer survivor, I equated my experience with a trip to Oz (one I'm still on - never knowing if the monkeys will fly out of the dr's broom at any moment!)...Toto we're out of Kansas and into cancer. It's a scarey place and it's OK to be scared. However, our supporting cast doesn't always like to hear the fear; the doubt; the negativity that creeps in. They admire us for being strong; for having a positive attitude; fighting the "good fight." Please don't be afraid to share the wicked witch right along with the yellow brick road. Cancer can be an isolating experience right along with an uplifting one. Peace be with you.

Sent by Texas Terri | 10:35 AM ET | 07-01-2008

When I was in active treatment, there were a lot of things I did for other people. I wore a wig for other people. I comforted them as they cried. I told them not to worry. I understand sounding better than you really feel.

I think of you often and hope your ride lasts as long as you wish. Saying hopeful prayers for you.

Sent by Gyla | 2:02 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Another thing to consider: you feel a need to protect us all. I bump up against that one in my own blog. As honest, raw and open I wish myself to be, as clearly as I wish to communicate, I inately do not want to increase the suffering and anxieties of those who love me. It's a hard line to walk, isn't it?

Sent by Tracy | 5:31 PM ET | 07-01-2008

How is Leroy?

Sent by Debby | 2:35 PM ET | 07-07-2008



   
   
   
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