Setting Aside Pride

 
“I have to set that pride aside and realize that my life has changed, whether I like it or not.”
 
 

I think it comes down to pride.

I'm not used to asking for help. That doesn't come easy to me. For virtually my entire life, I've been the person who others turn to for help.

I was the biggest, strongest guy in the room. It was only right that I be the one to offer, not receive, help.

Well, that's changed now, and it hasn't been easy.

These days, I'm the one who has to ask for help. I have to ask for something to eat, for help getting up, for a steadying hand as I move around. I need help getting cleaned up these days, too.

Laurie keeps saying that this stuff doesn't matter. But it does.

It matters to me that I am no longer self-sufficient. It matters to me that the simplest task can become difficult and complicated. It matters to me that I can't simply do whatever I want, when I want, and how I want.

I guess that's where the pride comes in.

I have to set that pride aside and realize that my life has changed, whether I like it or not.

But let's be honest here. I don't like it. Not a bit.

comments | |

 

Comments

View all comments »

Add a Comment

Please note that all comments must adhere to the NPR.org discussion rules and terms of use. See also the Community FAQ.

NPR reserves the right to read on the air and/or publish on its Web site or in any medium now known or unknown the e-mails and letters that we receive. We may edit them for clarity or brevity and identify authors by name and location. For additional information, please consult our Terms of Use.

Dear Leroy,
I am with you. I don't like asking for help either. I guess the Serenity Prayer is good advice when we come to this stage of life. To have peace we need to accept what we can not change. It sure is easier said than done.
You and Laurie are in my thoughts and prayers.
Charlotte in Rural Ridge, PA

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 7:21 AM ET | 07-10-2008

You were wonderful yesterday! I didn't hear any need for "she sells sea shells". I'm sure that you don't like the need for help and we don't expect you too. It causes a "helpless" feeling that is unpleasant. But it doesn't diminish your worth.

Sent by Susan | 7:30 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,

I do not think any adult is ever happy with asking for help. I believe it is part of defining us as adults. Even more so now facing the changes that accompany the disease.

We need to set aside our pride and consider that at times everyone needs help. Some sooner than others, but we will all need help at some time.

I enjoyed the broadcast, yesterday. I am listening to it again. Thank you for sharing this experience and teaching us.

Sent by Sue Chap | 7:35 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Thank you, Ted and Elizabeth for yesterday's meeting and chat. Really enjoyed hearing the questions and answers.

Giving up one's self-sufficiency is very difficult to do and harder to accept. We struggle to sustain our independence because it acknowledges, at least for us, that cancer and its damage is being kept at bay at least for the moment.

I also believe that one of the greatest gifts we can give to others....life giver, family and friends... is to allow them to help us as we need it. Often if not always, help and assistance is the only thing they have to offer and they want desperately to help us. I understand completely the "pride" issue and have been guilty of it. I have tried to replace the "pride" with "grace"....the grace to allow my life giver, family and friends to help me and thus convey to them that they are making a difference in my life at least for today! It helps fill the void that they feel of being "helpless".

Blessings and prayers as always.

Sent by Al Cato | 7:46 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy; It's OK to lean on others. Makes them feel like there is something they can do to help share your load. Sure it's no fun, but you have to honestly play the hand you're dealt. You have empowered many others with your courage - now is your time to receive.

Sent by Jimmy | 7:46 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I would like to say thank you to you and NPR for a fabulous show yesterday. I was able to listen from work off and on and then I heard it again last night at home. So many great comments from so many people. So many hurting, depressed and frightened people out there battling this awful cancer, but so much hope.
Outside looking in: I hope you can find some comfort and strength here at this site. There are so many people here that want to support you and answer your questions and help you!
I think there are times in each of our lives when we learn to lean on others for existence. I was the caregiver and now I lean on my family and friends and this site for support. I look to them to guide me in my decisions for my future. I am not used to that either. I am all alone in a city that is so foreign to me. No family here and a few friends. I am a single mom with two grown kids in college, and I sold everything and moved here to be near Neil to help him fight his battle. We did not talk about what would happen to me if the battle took his life. We did not want to believe that would happen. We never had enough time to finish the what happens to me part. Now I try to move on and eventually I will be okay, but sometimes, asking for help is the only alternative I have. Some days, this blog is all I have to look forward to. Cancer changed my life too, it took the person I loved from me, but I am still here to fight for him, for myself and for all of you! I have our two dogs and I will try to buy our home. Then I will make the next decision about my life. For now, one day at a time is good enough for me. I will continue to keep you all in my prayers. Peace....

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 8:02 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,
I don't think that this is a part of life that you are supposed to like. But, this is where you are; Laurie loves you and is there for you, as I am sure other friends are also. G-d does this for some reason of which I don't have a clue, and it happens and it sucks big time. You are still doing and giving more than you can imagine through this blog.

I tried to hear you on NPR yesterday; my staition in the Adirondack Mountains did not have you on; I caught some of it on the computer but I am sorry that I did not hear it all.
Take care and of course, G-d bless you and Laurie.
Jan

Sent by Janice Goldberg White | 8:10 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Your candor is a gift to many. I deeply emphathize with what you are going through. If it's any consolation, I am certain that the people who love you really and truly wouldn't have it any other way. As hard as it is on you to ask for and accept help, letting people help you is also a gift you give. They are desperate to do omething...anything to ease your burden and smooth your path.

Peace...

Sent by Nichole in FL | 8:23 AM ET | 07-10-2008

I thought your performance yesterday was outstanding. Your courage and poise is truly inspiring. What you're going through sounds unimaginably difficult - which makes you that much more amazing.

Sent by Brian Sandro | 8:25 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, it is ok not to like it!!! None of us would.

Yesterday I had to work so had to wait until I got home and in the middle of the night was able to settle down and listen to the interview. Thank you so much. And also a big thank you to Ted and Elizabeth also. I am sure you touch many people that you never know about.

I hope you will have a relaxing restful day. Hugs to both you and Laurie.

Sent by dorothy in oregon | 8:32 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Errrrrrrrrr.
There are no good words. It's just one big poopy diaper.

God bless you Leroy.

Judy

Sent by Judy Voller | 8:35 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I am so glad you have addressed this issue. I often wondered how my husband felt as little by little he lost his independence. I guess he had worse results from the very first radiation he had on his head than you have experienced. Did you ever forget how to shave or brush your teeth? My Dave never acted like he was upset about those kind of things but I know he didn't understand what was happening. Neither did I, not til later on. When he started having seizures, well that scared the heck out of us. But we dealt with that too. I look back now and wonder how we did it? I know why we did it. I love that man so much still it breaks my heart to think about all he endured. Like you he also had a lot of pain due to the cancer in his pelvic bones, but he dealt with it. We never gave in to it, it just got to be more than we could fight. As a caregiver or as Laurie would call it lifegiver, let me tell you it was hard, but I am so glad David let me help him. He too was a big man and as I saw the changes over the years(four of them), it hurt to see him change from being the strong one to needing help with even simple things. But in my mind he was always a strong, mighty man in facing all the treaments and appointments and trips and miles we put on that body. I will always admire him for that and like to think he probably did a lot of it for me.
Don't feel bad for needing help, we all will at some time or other. I'm just glad you have someone there to help that cares for you so much.

Sent by Janice from Troy AL | 8:41 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I am really sorry that you are having to deal with all of this, especially at such a young age. Wish I had a magic wand.

Sent by Jen | 8:55 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, every loss needs to be mourned. We often think that denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are only for major losses, but all emotionally significant losses need to be allowed this journey. Please feel free to grieve your loss of self-mobility and general self-sufficiency.

Sent by Leonard | 8:58 AM ET | 07-10-2008

It's hard to become dependent. It's a horrible indignity. No matter how much love and respect your people give you, the fact remains we have to submit when we would rather not.

I'm wishing you the grace and strength to accept the hard parts, Leroy. I'm thinking of you today.

Sent by Celeste | 8:59 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy:

You are still the strongest guy in the room. We've all drawn from you strength!

Sent by Kate | 9:00 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I am not sure it is pride. I think we are just plain ticked-off that we are robbed from doing what we use to do. Hang in there buddy.

Sent by Carolyn | 9:10 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy: Pride is a hard thing. But it is one of our life's lessons. I know it is hard for you, but just accept it and know that you are in loving hands and God has provided Laurie as your helping hands. And when she gets to help you - she feels good, that she can help you. Love....it's what it is all about. You are truly BLESSED my brother.
LOVE and Many more Blessings,

Sent by Joan, Front Royal, Va | 9:11 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Gooed Morning Leroy
Humbling oneself is never easy, especially for a self sufficient, indepedent kind of guy!On the flip side I'm sure it offers the "life-giver" the opportunity to feel helpful. I guess we just have to look at it as it's "our time". Be patient with yourself...Iam sure it is not easy
Thank you for your wonderful grace on NPR yesterday. I was sorry to hear you mention there would not be a book derived from the biog. I had so often thought what a wonderful tribute to you at the same time a gift to all in the cancer world to have such an inspirational resource available to carry through their journey. I know what it has meant to me to be connected to this "family". As special as this blog is....you just want to share
Thank you again for yesterday. Hearing your voice again, just makes it all so real.

Sent by Pam from Mass. | 9:11 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,
While you may not be able to run to open my car door, you may not be able to toss down a velvet cape across a puddle, or carry an injured hiker down a mountain...

It is your heart, your honesty, and your compassion for each of us in cancer world regardless of our roles, that lifts my spirit, lightens the lonesome burdens, and gives me the strength for one more day.

What's a little hand holding when you have already given so much?

You've been strong enough for two average lifetimes already.

I'll lend my strength to those who can "do" for you, and wish with all my heart that I could be privileged enough to be one of those doing my turn with the heavy lifting.
With much affection.

Sent by eaf | 9:14 AM ET | 07-10-2008

No, you don't like the way cancer has changed your life, and I, for one, am glad.

Not liking it means you still have the strength to get a little angry and to continue the fight and "...not go gentle into that good night...".

Your life has changed, but you have not. You remain a bright, engaging, and caring person who continues to offer help to others: the srong one we turn to every day.

Thank you for that strength and your willingness and ability to help.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy | 9:15 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Good morning Leroy! You were great yesterday afternoon!

I know how difficult it is to be dependent on others for basic care--if only for a relatively short time--like following surgery for instance. I can only try to imagine how difficult it would be in your situation and in my Dad's. He goes through periods of anger and depression because of it. I'm sure that must be one of the most difficult aspects of the disease and its devistation.
We care about you Leroy...we care.

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:28 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Staying Proud.... with our bruised pride, is yet another of our challenges.

You've likely had the big guy experience of walking away from the inflamed ego of a lesser stature man. Regardless of the provocation the mismatch tested your ilk and left the other guy without added burdens. Pride is something we, as best we can, must accommodate and compromise with ... Being proud is something else... you've a lot to be proud of...

Hold Fast & Keep appreciating that stuff that doesn't matter... there's a kind of intimacy to it that perhaps us self-sufficient "Y" chromosome enabled guys don't yet fully understand.


Don MacLeod

Sent by Don MacLeod | 9:37 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Hi --

When I was recovering from surgery for my colon cancer five years ago, I struggled with the same pride. Asking my four-year-old son to help me was wrenching. But, what I learned was that giving others the opportunity to help -- even in the most personal ways -- is giving them the chance to give you the gift that they want to give. The hard thing to do is to accept it.

Sent by Jane J | 9:38 AM ET | 07-10-2008

I hear you! It's been very hard for me to set aside my pride. First it was being in a wheelchair because the tumor pressing on the nerves,losing my right leg and muscles movement.Plus the pain that comes with it. I've always been the help and not the other way of needing help.
It's my pride that my wife is always worried about. Watching me so I don't fall on my face or something like that.. Now I set aside my pride and do what my wife says. Yes I need and get the help I need from my "lifegiver"

p

Sent by Kris Worrall | 9:38 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Oh Leroy, both you and Laurie are absolutely right. I'm sure that if the tables were turned, you'd be telling Laurie exactly the same things she is telling you. This is the strength of your unconditional love for each other.

Last night I stayed up way past my bedtime listening to the audio of yesterday's ToTN with you, Ted Koppel, Elizabeth Edwards and others, the live chat, and reading the accompanying running chat. It was all wonderful. You three must be very influential, as the local major station doesn't usually carry the second ToTN hour. But, yesterday morning they were plugging you during all of the programming. Terrific shows! Despite all you've told us about your energy and strength losses, your voice sounded rested and strong throughout. So there is some "normal" for you!

Sent by Sheara | 9:40 AM ET | 07-10-2008

You have expressed my greatest fear - loss of control over my life. Even more than death, I fear debilitation and having to ask for help for simple things. I also have never liked asking for help. You're right on the money - it all comes down to pride, and it's tough to give it up.
I feel for those who don't have loved ones they can rely on for help - that would make it even harder, to have to rely on strangers or hired help alone.

It was good to hear your voice on the broadcast yesterday; you did a lot of people a lot of good.

Sent by Marcia Greer | 9:40 AM ET | 07-10-2008

I know exactly what you mean Leroy. When i was in treatment last year it was so hard to ask for help. I've been very independent all my life but at the end of the day i had no choice, that was my path. It was a challenge for me to not get too caught up in the ego and try to accept the help and realize that it can be a gift to the others who want to help, its helping them. It can be difficult but once I gave in and accepted the help, my attitude changed. you deserve to be helped Leroy.

Sent by Jenn | 9:48 AM ET | 07-10-2008

One of the functions of illness that I've learned in nearly 30 yrs as a nurse, is that it often forces us to be on the receiving end of things-to be less human "do-ers" and take from others. We are put in the position of having to take help, love, support, physical care, and for some, it's painful in the extreme. In our culture, we're fed the nonsensical belief that we should all be independent...all the time. NO ONE gets off of this planet that way. Obviously, as children, we need the help of others, but as adults, we do as well, and our belief system often makes it difficult to accept that at all, let alone graciously.
For years, working in rehabilitation, and later as a visiting nurse, I had hundreds of discussions with patients to explain to them that the way life works is circular....sometimes we're extending ourselves to others...with love, with physical or other kinds of help. Extending ourselves in that way allows us to grow as people, and to feel more connected to one another.
The other side of that equation is receiving. That's the part that many of us have difficulty with. We "don't want to be a bother", or we feel unworthy of the help and time of others. We sometimes deny others the opportunity to show their love for us, or to grow in the way that one does when extending love in the form of caring. I believe that that circle, that sharing is a big part of why we're here.
Don't get me wrong, I have experienced long periods of physical debility and it's awful, and can be depressing and frustrating. It's all the more so when we block the ability of others to lessen our suffering.
I think that the ability to accept the caring of others gratefully and gracefully is a sign of personal growth. I wish us all caring people in our lives to help us when we are in need, and the opportunity to help others with a glad heart.

Sent by Nancy K. Clark | 9:49 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,

I can so relate to this. When I first started my fight with breast cancer, I refused to ask for help. As time went along, I realized that my family and friends had few other ways to feel like they were helping me. So slowly, I began to let them help me. Now I have gotten to the point where I will ask, in factI often ask even though I know I can do it myself :)

Sent by Carole | 10:02 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Being the receiver of intimate care is extremely difficult. I am so moved by your honesty this morning.

Yesterday's live chat was a very powerful 2 hours. Thank you for extending yourself, again, to all of us, you give so much. I imagine the physical and emotion expenditure was enormous. Me, I felt elated and yet drained afterwards, just wanted some quiet time & space for reflection.

You are so loved and appreciated by so many. Many of us may be faceless to you and Laurie but we hope you can feel us.

When you're not strong,
we'll be your friends
We'll help you carry on
for it wont be long till we're gonna need
somebody to lean on

We're in this with Leroy. Rest and sunshine today. Thank you again for yesterday, what a gift.
Much love to you and Laurie,
Debra

Sent by Debra in New Hampshire | 10:03 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Amen, Nancy K. Clark! Thank you.

Sent by Wendy | 10:09 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,
Prayers to you and Laurie. May God give uss strength and courage. In two weeks my casts will be removed and then I can get back to being a caregiver for my husband. My three children are taking turns looking after both of us now and I am so proud to have such wonderful kids. I don't know how I could have gotten through these past three weeks without them.

Prayers to all and may God Bless.

Sent by sasha321 | 10:11 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dying ain't so bad (everyone does it) - But what you describe today is my biggest fear.

Sent by Tim | 10:12 AM ET | 07-10-2008

I dont' blame you. This has change the whole way of your being in the world.

Sent by Lisa | 10:13 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I am getting older. I don't have cancer, but I am seeing the days when I am able to do less approaching rapidly. And I know I'll have to turn to the ones I love to help me. I don't like it much either. I believe, though, that what they do for you is their gift to you. Of their love. It is a gracious gift back to them to accept.

Sent by Kathleen | 10:15 AM ET | 07-10-2008

So good to hear your voice yesterday - you were so gracious to take everyone's questions, even some that were quite personal.

Belatedly I wanted to say what great fun it was to see the photos of so many of my fellow bloggers - thanks muchly for making those available.

I, too, hated those times post surgery when I couldn't get up and do what I wanted to do. I'll always be restricted in physical ways as a result of losing the majority of my lungs to cancer. As with the rest of your journey, we are here to emphathize having traveled parts of the same road. Hope it helps somewhat.

Wishing you peace, dear Leroy.

Sent by Sara (MD) | 10:17 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I can truly understand how you feel, but in my case, I'm not so sure it is all pride. I hate to burden my husband with doing everything. He has a full time job and I am home. He constantly tells me to take it easy, don't overdo it, watch a movie or something, but I feel guilty about just laying around and having him to everything when he comes home from work. So, I do overdo it, but I feel that if I can still do little things I am going to continue doing them. When I no longer can perform my simple little taks then I'll feel less guilty and let him do things for me. Bless you Leroy and Lauries, you expressed how my husband feel to a T. He worries constantly about me, even istalled a baby monitor in our bedrooms so he can hear me in the middle of the night. (He snores terribly loud so I have to sleep in another room.) Peace to you Leroy.

Sent by Ruth White | 10:28 AM ET | 07-10-2008

David gets very drained by doing things that exhaust him and I worry, but I know it is because he hates the way he is not as strong as before.
I thought of Sasha too, struggling with her broken leg and arm, and her husband who is very ill. It is frustrating, frightening, and heartbreaking to lose our independence in our basic needs. I think all of us dread that happening to us and seeing the ones we love go through this.

Sent by Tina from Alton IL | 10:36 AM ET | 07-10-2008

You are so right! I am having a hard time walking right now and it makes me mad. I want to be normal, do normal things and I just hate relying on others.

Is that pride? or is it that I have lost control? Those are the things that illness steals from us. I never really understood why the elderly held on so tightly to their independence with their homes and cars..now I know. Control and Pride. It is hard to accept help and not be able to do for one's self. I file it under "well this stinks" category.

No words of wisdom just empathy my friend.

Also, I must comment about your show with Ted Koppel yesterday. Nice to hear you and Elizabeth Edwards again. I think that people think once you get cancer that all of a sudden we have a wealth of wisdom and knowledge. Like we are mystics. I kept wanting to say to the radio, how are we suppose to know?

Anyhow, folks like you and Elizbeth help the rest of us with cancer feel normal and part of society. A gift you have given us and I thank you for that Leroy.

Sent by Janis | 10:41 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Loved the show yesterday Leroy...you are my hero...stature is irrelevant!
We love you desperately and dearly.
Laurie Hirth...my heart broke when I read your post. I, too, am a care/lifegiver and feel my loved one being taken away from me bit by bit.
Keep reading & posting & hoping...& we'll keep praying!
Ted & Elizabeth...you both ROCK and we love you too! Blessings & sunshine today to all of you.

Sent by bethann | 10:44 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Peace. And I know you know what an honor and blessing it is for Laurie (or anyone for that matter)to be able to do for you what you cannot do for yourself...when it gets dark, that is something you can hone in on...you are truly blessing someone when you let them help you...doesn't take away your pain...but it surely lessens it somewhat...
be well,
sandra yudilevich

Sent by Sandra Yudilevich | 10:44 AM ET | 07-10-2008

If truth is the first casualty of war, then pride is the first casualty of cancer. I took mere minutes to realize that I couldn't do this by myself, that my husband couldn't assume the burden all by himself, and that we would simply have to take people up on their offers of help. Thankfully, I have not yet needed extra "care", but we've had many sessions (post-surgery, or at the end of chemo) where I needed a ride somewhere while he was working, or where offers of dinner brought in were graciously accepted. Even this spring when I broke my wrist, my husband was insisting to all our generous friends, Oh, we'll be fine...and I was saying, Dinner on Tuesday? Great, we'll see you then.

It's damned hard to be raised in a culture that values self-sufficiency, competence, strength, endurance, and then to have to surrender all of these to something that really doesn't deserve your submission. But maybe that's one positive measure of how well we've lived our lives: the good people who come forward to help pick up our burdens when we can't do it alone.

Peace
jj

Sent by Joan Jones | 10:47 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,
I have never written to you before this , but I wanted you to know how much your blog has helped me get through my husbands battle and then eventual death due to Non Hodgkins Lymphoma..There were many times for me that your blog was the only way I knew there wre people out there who understood exactly what I was and am feeling..not that I don't pray that one day there will not be..I miss my husband Steven terribly, but in your blog I see the same strength and courage that I saw in Steven..and I pray for everyone affected by this disease...and yes the "lifegivers"..God Bless them as well..i tis tough to be "the other guy" too..May God be with you and your sweetheart during these difficult times..and again THANK YOU for taking tie to let me know there are others in the world just like me..I am not alone in this..

Sent by Chrisitne Mead | 10:48 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, it really is a gift you're giving to Laurie by letting her help you.

I'm sitting here trying to decide which is worse, having to swallow your pride and ask for help or being the life giver watching helplessly while seeing the love of your life struggle with the most simple of things because pride is preventing him from getting help. From the life giver's perspective, anything that can make your life easier is preferred over painfully watching you struggle. These small basic tasks are nothing, Leroy; they're nothing. They aren't the things that portray you or define you! They're just small necessities. Please, don't give too much thought to this. It's not worth the energy.

As always, you and Laurie are in my prayers.

Sent by Kathy B. from Michigan | 11:02 AM ET | 07-10-2008

I read about your blog in the newspaper this morning. My husband was diagnosed about three months ago with Stage 3 lung cancer and is currently going thru chemotherapy. We have one more treatment scheduled for a week from today, I say "we" because it affects both of us. He was not a candidate for surgery due to scar tissue and dimished lung capacity from radiation for Hodgkins over 30 years ago. He also had Cyberknife radiation back in May, they'll do a PET scan in September to determine the progress of the treatment. The experience is not fun and the side effects are painful, but our faith has been strengthened and we try to consider each day a gift. My Dan experiences the same frustrations as you about needing help, and hasn't quite learned gracious acceptance yet. We're new to this journey and have to take things a day at a time. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings and for providing the insight to others.

Sent by Donna Mesa, AZ | 11:03 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,
I think my husband would agree with you on asking for help because he has always been the one that people turn to whether it's been a "brain or brawn" issue. Fortunately he still has the brain strength with minor concessions to the chemo and brain radiation but it is very difficult for me to think about what he was compared to what he is. All I can do is remind myself that he is still the same person inside and I now cherish his ways that used to just irritate me because I would miss them so much when he was on the ventilator or just not feeling well enough to participate in life. I think "lifegivers" can relate as well because we too have to ask for help and most of us have not done that before. I have learned that my true friends and neighbors are always there to help me when I just cannot manage a task. As difficult as it is, usually we just have to ask and there is no shame in that. Besides it makes other people feel better to help. God bless.

Sent by Kathie | 11:05 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,
My late husband felt the same way. He was pathologically self-sufficient! He felt useless as he became sicker, in his last months, with pancreatic cancer. At one point, he didn't even want to be around people because he couldn't DO anything for them.

But, he was persuaded, by a good therapist, to consider the idea that he was giving people a gift by just BEING with them and, especially, by asking them and/or letting them do things for him.

By receiving, he was helping others feel useful and, besides, he/we needed the help!

Believe me, as a care/"life-giver", I would go back to those days, when I was taking care of him night and day, in a second, if I could. They were sacred days for me.

Great to hear your strong voice yesterday!

Sent by Marilyn | 11:12 AM ET | 07-10-2008

I helped care for an elderly woman who was dying, just as all her parts wore out. She was infuriated at losing her independence and took it out on her caregivers. Over time, however, I could see a change in her attitude. She seemed to actually decide to put on a mantle of grace.

That grace became something not "put on" but true and enabled her and her caregivers to work together.

With this change of attitude, it was almost like a mutual gift-giving process. We loved this woman and wanted to be with her and care for her as long as she lived. With her change of attitude, she came to see this and decided she would accept this care as a gift and as something that she actually deserved from her life of good works for others.

I hope that I can find that same spirit when/if my time for receiving care comes.

God bless you both, Leroy and Laurie.

Sent by Gail in Maine | 11:14 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Good Morning Leroy,
I totally agree with you on it being hard not to be able to do what you want, when you want. I pulled my back a couple of weeks ago and I couldn't hardly do anything. My getting dressed, taking a bath, walking, sitting, bending etc. were all effected. Not only was it very painful but like you, I did not want to ask for help. But I did and I know it was the right thing to do. I guess we all have that little bit of pride that wants to prevent us from asking, but hey, that is what friends and family are for. May God grant us all a peaceful and painfree day.

Sent by Teresa in WV | 11:21 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Good Morning Leroy, Laurie and All,

Leroy, Thank you so much for having your broadcast posted on this site so we could review it. The broadcast was awesome and everyone did such a terrific job! I missed the broadcast yesterday due to a long day at the Cancer Clinic.

Your post this morning is also right on the money. The loss of control over my own life has been the biggest problem I have faced in dealing with cancer. And I still have major difficulties asking for or accepting help from others. I was a nurse for 42 years and my life's role was supposed to be caring for others. My biggest fear is that I will not be here to help Tom when he needs me the most. That realization still makes the tears fall! So Leroy, I can totally understand your feelings about the changes that Cancer has brought into your life. I hate these changes too! But we will hang on tight for as long as we can.

Laurie, I know that your role as "Lifegiver" is the hardest role on Earth!! But for you and Tom and all the others who share this journey with us, WE LOVE YOU! And Thank God for you every day!!

To All like Laurie Hirth, who have lost their loved ones to Cancer, special hugs and prayers go out to you. May you find the comfort and peace you so richly deserve for a job well done!!

And as we all join together in Leroy's Army, 30,000 strong, we know that our dreams of victory will not be denied!!
God Bless!!

Eileen Pruyne
Charlotte, NC

Sent by Eileen Pruyne | 11:25 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, can I just tell you that you were GREAT yesterday! It was sooo great to hear your voice. I remember back when I FIRST heard you that morning when you first aired and hearing you each time you have made a TV appearance or NPR appearance has been great. You give us all, cancer fighters or caregivers and loved ones (like myself) such inspiration and strength to understand what our loved ones go through and feel connected. You are a gift to us all. You have helped to bring such a wonderful community together of people that don;t even know eachother but can connect so well!!!

Hi Laurie...stay strong and keep giving all that love and support you give, regardless of how grumpy he might get...lol (I say that cause, boy, my pops used to have his moments ;) )

Love,
Cristina Barthel

Sent by Cristina Barthel in Tampa, FL | 11:27 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, while I understand your frustration with needing help, it's a blessing to be able to be the one to give it. I'm sure that's the way Laurie and your other friends and loved ones view the situation.

Our culture supports our taking great pride in being self-sufficient, so it's very humbling to have that arrogance stripped away when circumstances force us to depend upon those who love us for the basic necessities of life. While I haven't had cancer, I had meningitis nearly ten years ago. When I came home after ten days in the hospital, I was so weak that I couldn't shower or dress myself or even get out of a chair without aid. My then-boyfiend/now-husband selflessly cared for me and - while I wouldn't wish the disease on anyone - it was truly one of the sweetest times in our lives.

It was amazing to find how important I was to so many people and how eager they were to step up to help me. It took a large measure of grace for me to learn how to accept that. I imagine it's something like that for you, as well.

Take care. I'm praying for you.

Sent by Kathy Groh Canby | 11:28 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,

This is so hard, that I cannot hardly write. I feel so sad, so much compassion. For you, for Laurie, for everyone in these difficult circumstances. This is scary, terrifying. Not being self-sufficient is hard under even temporary circumstances. Even when everyone is saying they don't mind helping, what I mind, for myself, is not being able to help myself. (of course all the help is appreciated.) But the inability to be self-sufficient, is a hard thing to adjust to, especially when you've been the strong, capable person.

Like everyone here, I wish you some feelings of peace. Some ease in your day. Also wishing some moments of peace for Laurie too.

Heartlight,

Kim

Sent by Kim Blankenship | 11:40 AM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I caught the radio program yesterday was a little unfortunate some used it for their own agendas. I wanted more questions asked, meaningful ones.

What does keep us going? In the face of all Cancer takes, what is it in the human spirit that dirves us on? We know the outcome in most cases, and yet we suitup for battle day in and day out. So do the Life Givers. What is it, and why can't we apply this kind of commitment to anything else?

I feel for you both, you are strenght personified. Thoughts, Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 12:12 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy.... I totally understand your feelings and feel that they are quite natural. Even without a specific illness, those of us who are advancing in age realize that we must now turn to others for physical help as well as help with responsibilities that we always felt were ours alone.

I know that my daughter had a very hard time accepting help in the beginning; she was only 46 years old at the time of her diagnosis and was one of the strongest people I have ever known... and soooo independent. I had to keep reminding myself that she had a need for continuing this independence as long as possible and had to step back and allow her to do those things that she was capable of doing, without hovering.... even though it was my absolute joy to be able to help in any way I could.

As her condition progressed, she was able to accept the situation and accept our help more. This did not diminish her in any way; her gracious acceptance made her appear stronger than ever; a strength that astonished all who knew her and inspired many.

People often used to say to me, "How do you do it?" I could never figure out how someone could NOT do it.... how can you NOT be there for someone you love. I have felt so grateful to have had the opportunity of being able, physically, emotionally and geographically, to be with my daughter in her time of need. I know she would have done the same for me.

The astonishing thing is that these times of giving and accepting help, in even the most indelicate situations, provides an even great intimacy and caring between you. It is a blessed thing.

When my daughter was last released from the hospital, it was to in-home Hospice care. The nurse and the counselor would visit once a week at that time and the health-aid came in 2 to 3 times a week to bathe my daughter, change the linens, etc. They were willing and able to do anything we needed, including staying with my daughter while I ran errands or took a little off-time. In the beginning, I protested that I was capable of doing these things myself (and, in fact, did them on the days that they were not there). One of these wise women said to me, "we know you can do it, but if WE do it, you can save your energy so that you are refreshed and able to enjoy your time together without worrying about these kinds of things". It was then that I, the life-giver, had to accept their help, and this allowed me so much more precious time with my daughter and she felt good about the situation, knowing that I had help.

I trust that you and Laurie will come to your own understanding of both of your needs during this precious time together.

Sent by Betty Obst | 12:15 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,
You still are the BIGGEST, STRONGEST GUY IN THE ROOM! Writing everyday and helping so many people who are fighting the same battle still makes you the strongest! You're not dead yet so I am not crying!

Sent by Helen Drab Stigant | 12:22 PM ET | 07-10-2008

I'm laughing over Judy's "Poopy Diaper" comment. Good job Judy.

I feel you on the pride thing. Don't blame you for not liking to ask for help. The thing I do know is that you are giving people who love you the opportunity to feel "they can do something" during a time when they feel helpless. So, I guess in a way that cloud has some silver.

Hugs Leroy.

Sent by Lori | 12:26 PM ET | 07-10-2008

My husband went thru the same feelings as you have expressed, Leroy. I would try to do things for him before he had to ask and then sometimes he would say that I was hovering over him. I did not mind doing anything for him and I am sure that Laurie feels the same although I cannot understand no one wanting to ask for help. You are right - it boils down to pride. Continued prayers for you and for Laurie.

Sent by Deb from Michigan | 12:27 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,

What an unspeakable gift your voice and thoughts were yesterday on TOTN and afterwards. Elizabeth Edwards -- Such a deep and dear human being. And your friend, Mr. Koppel -- The finest facilitator (and friend of Leroy and Laurie).

I cannot begin to express what you bring to each day, but I am grateful that my fellow members of the community are so spot-on eloquent. "What he/she said ..." best sums up what I'd like to say. Yesterday's interview and Q & A were profoundly powerful. I learned such a great deal about our shared humanity and its heights and possibilities; especially when faced with fear and trembling and adversity. (I also learned about your favorite book, "Gates of Fire", which I will give to my husband for his upcoming birthday! :o)

I am so sorry (and sad and scared) for the increased physical difficulties that you are dealing with, and for the toll those difficulties take on both the body and the spirit. With loving, caring arms to lift you and hands to hold you, may your concerns be lessened somewhat as you melt into those loving touches.

With heartfelt gratitude for the thought and effort you put into every day, I'm wishing you a day of rest and relaxation and abundance and wonderful companionship,

Kim Forester

Sent by Kim Forester | 12:43 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dude! I'm sorry I missed yesterday's broadcast, but as usual, work gets in the way of life.

Maybe your having to accept help is just part of the cycle....once, you were the helper and now you're the helpee. Or, maybe it's giving and receiving love. Who knows? But, either way, you're getting back the love you gave to others, so that's pretty darn cool, don't you think?

I wish you peace.

Sent by Joyce in FL | 1:04 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Regarding your interview, I don't even KNOW you but you saying the world "hospice" breaks my heart.. You are loved by so many..

Sent by Patsy Elmore | 1:07 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear, Dear Leroy~ Yesterday, I was filled with "PRIDE" just listening to you and thinking of what a long way you have come since you were first diagnosed. YOU are a Brave, Gutsey man and some weeks ago when you all began the "Gallery" bit, I decided that I did not want to be a part of it any longer.
However, I must put these few words out to you. My husband is like you and very private and proud but he has lately discovered that there comes a time when the Pride must be put in your pocket and you MUST reach out for help.
Good for you too, Leroy!!

Sent by J C R | 1:14 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,

I faithfully check on you every day, first thing, although I do not always post a comment. Although I may have no words to add on a particular day, I am always thinking of you and praying for you. God Bless you and Laurie, and everyone going through all the levels of hell of this particular disease.

Sent by Connie | 1:30 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy,[Don't callyour blog " my cancer."]
I am going to be 79 the 17th of Aug. 2008, next month. When my husband was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer in 2000,[it was just before our 50th wedding anniv] and while we were discussing with his team of Dr's why it couldn't be operated on, they kept calling it "his cancer". When I heard that I just threw up my arms and said. "Do not call it HIS CANCER!He did not ask for it, nor does he own it and I'd appreciate it if no one would refer to it in that manner again" The Dr's of course were astounded but went along with what I said. My husband was a bit shocked at what I said but went along. They gave him a 10 to 15% chance of making it. They intended to give him the largest doses of Chemo & Radiation and if that didn't kill him, he migh make it. He made it!!With the meds help & prayer from all over the world and great love from his family. This year[2008] he found out he had a tennis ball size cancer in his colon. I said the same thing ..Do not call it "his c" it is an uninvited thing and is not accepted. It was found in time and taken out. No chemo or radiation was needed, we are so very thankful. We rebuke the evil cancer cells that try to invade and fight back with love & understanding of the person going through this unwanted invasion. You and all those who are going thru c, may take this or reject it but not owning the evil thing, is a good thing, I'd say. Try it & see what happens. God Bless you and know we are fighting your invader with many prayers & love. Mrs. Thomas E Sullivan , Sr. Scottsdale , Arizona. [480-361-2793] PS I read Susan Estrich's column in todays paper."Getting inspiration from cancer blog".

Sent by Gloria Sullivan | 1:36 PM ET | 07-10-2008

My mother felt the same thing: mourning the loss of her independence.

In the hospital she frustrated the staff because they would ask a medical question "How are you?" and she would smile slightly and say "Fine" which was a lie. She didn't want to have to need people - even nurses in ICU, post-op.

She didn't want to need anyone. She wanted to be needed.

If she only knew how I need her now! Even healthy people have bad days (like today) and I really just need to call her and talk to her and listen to her wisdom and wit.

Swallow the pride and remember it is a two way street - you need your loved ones. Your support network.

THEY NEED YOU TOO! (maybe not for lifting, but I promise you, for something!)

Kudos on a fabulous job yesterday!

Sent by Liz L. | 1:43 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leonard say it perfectly "every loss needs to be morned." This is a loss and it does matter to you and to us. It strikes me that life with cancer is a cycle and you keep moving around it. We come into this world needing someone's care, right down to the simplist things. Then we grow out of that and we pride ourselved, even take for granted, that we are the givers, people come to us for help. Now the we come full circle, and we get to be reminded again that we are vulnerable and needy and we have to let others do that for us. You don't have to like it, Leroy. Laurie would be surprised if you did. You just have to allow it to be what it is. Surrender the illusion we all have that we can do it ourselves and give over to receiving with love.

Kate in California

Sent by Kate | 1:48 PM ET | 07-10-2008

I just wrote a comment "Please don't call your Blog, My Cancer"
If my comment is used could you please email the comment page to me? Thank you...Mrs. Thomas Sullivan , Sr. gloria sullivan

Sent by gloria sullivan | 1:53 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Ted Koppel's interviews with Leroy Sievers and Elizabeth Edwards were, of course, excellent. Perhaps in the future, though, Mr. Koppel could refrain from telling a live audience to "Shut up" when he believes they applaud at an inappropriate time.

Sent by Kim Hershberger, Goshen, IN | 1:59 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Sasha - It's lovely to hear you and I think you are so brave. I think of you often.
Debra - I echo your words to Leroy and Laurie - you express our thoughts and love for them both and for everyone on this blog so beautifully

Sent by Tina from Alton IL | 2:01 PM ET | 07-10-2008

You may THINK that you are not capable of many things...However, you carry ALL of us on your shoulders everyday.
And we love you for it.
Thanks,
Liz Z

Sent by liz Zimmerman | 2:13 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, It may be that the last thing we can give to those we care about is the opportunity for them to love us and care for us.

Blessings.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 2:16 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,I understand how you feel.I have been a cancer patient and a caregiver for my wife when she had cancer. Be happy you have someone who loves you enough to be there.Accept that love.when you need a hand ,say give me some love because thats what that person is giving. How lucky you are,you know! You inspire us all Leroy Thanks!

Sent by Bud Regelin | 2:51 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy, please remember that when others do for you, it makes them feel good. I am sure Laurie is tired and maybe some respite caregiver could be called in to help out. I volunteer for Hospice here in CT and I do it for selfish reasons: It makes me feel good. So often patients fret about being helpless to help themselves and really, it is no trouble at all and it makes me feel connected and needed. Going from being the strong one to being dependent has got to be hard, very hard to accept. I wish I had the magic words to say to make you feel better about all this, but all I can say is I'm here, walking with you in spirit.

Sent by Alycia Keating | 3:47 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy:

I went to a psychic once, with a girlfriend who didn't want to go alone. He had me write a few sentences, then held my hand and looked in my eyes. Finally he told me that I was very strong, and a good leader, but that my job in this life was to learn vulnerability, to learn to accept love as well as giving it, to allow others to do for me as I do for them, and, oh, by the way, my spirit animal was the cougar . . .

Cancer knocks the stuffing out of, like a scarecrow in a bad windstorm. But the care that others give us is a form of love, and saying no to that care is saying no to love.

I never found it easy, but I learned to accept the care of those who loved me, and what I found was that it felt just like love . . .

Peggy

Sent by Peggy Carey | 4:10 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy - I have never been in that situation, but I think I can empathize, because projecting a bit, I know that I would hate to be so dependent on others. From the time we take that first step as a baby, no, really, from the time we first crawl or flip over, or even raise our heads, we are striving to be mobile and independent. It must feel awful to slowly be losing that independence. I think you touched a chord in all of us.

When I got chemo, after three months I learned that one of the drugs was causing lung damage and that if I continued it, I could become a pulmonary cripple. The thought of dying from lymphoma bothered me little compared to the thought of being in a wheelchair, sucking oxygen from a bottle for the rest of my days. No thank you! I discontinued that drug.

It is sobering to me, now being healthy, to realize that someday, if I live long enough, these legs which have carried me for marathons, and on long hikes up mountains, will no longer get me out of a chair or across a room without assistance. It is a scary thought, and I know that you are starting to live this, at least for now. Thanks God for Laurie being there for you, but I agree with you -- it does matter. No one would like this.

Sent by Art Ritter | 4:11 PM ET | 07-10-2008

I so understand what you are saying Leroy. I think it is very important to "not like it a bit" this means you still have fight left in you. We have to somehow accept it but we don't have to like it. And it is important that our life givers understand that we are going to be a bit difficult about this...I also think it has to do with dignity. I just want to die with my dignity intact. This is why I want to die at home and with my loved ones carng for me. The one thing I don't want the "Beast" or any disease to take from me is my dignity nor the will to fight until the very end...when ever that may be or I choose it to be. Love, Graham from Sag Harbor.

Sent by Graham G. Hawks | 4:25 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,

I watched my dad being reduced to dependency during his last few years. I regretted it for him, and the possibility of one day facing the same thing scares me.

About the only positive lesson I can draw from the experience is the importance and value of being willing to ask for help, and doing so early. It may be small consolation, and may not apply as much since you don't live alone... but as general advice, by confronting the need for help rather than trying to postpone it, I think that in the long run you make things at least a little easier for everyone involved.

Sent by Matt K | 4:29 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,

The fact that you continue this blog tells us your strength is still there. We all have to ask for help at some time in our lives. You, who are doing so much for so many, deserve all the help you need and to feel willing to accept it without letting it diminish your feelings about yourself.

Sent by Marcy in NJ | 4:36 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy
I don't like and don't want help. Thank you I can do it myself. Pride is my biggest issue. I don't feel comfortable with the feeling of pity from friend and family when it comes to my cancer. Mabe its just me, but I can feel enough pity for myself without help. Having a better self image and learning acceptance during the last many months have helped. But I still chill when people ask "how are you?"

Sent by Donna LeRose | 4:39 PM ET | 07-10-2008

I was totally dependent on my husband for just 3 weeks this past winter when I couldn't walk even one footstep due to Hand/Foot syndrome from the chemo I am doing.... and I was so miserable/grouchy. Yeah pride. I'm proud that I am a "doer" and normally very independent and as Nancy K Clark reminds us - this culture rewards the do-er and the achiever. People don't get rewards or big salaries for being good at meditating, prayer, stillness, contemplation. So it's alot to think about - a teaching moment if you care to go there. I think this learning about stillness & dependence is very important for every single one of us but so hard, so challenging.

You have alot of peole cheering for you and cheering for all who go through these kinds of challenges.

Nancy O

Anyway for me it was just 3 weeks, so I( can't even begin to imagine how others and how you yourself manage to stay pleasant and kind when overcome with the reality that you ARE dependent on your partner.

Sent by Nancy Oliveri | 4:56 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Hi Leroy,
This moment in time is "all about you" People don't mind helping, and want to do whatever they can. It's OK, let people help you. Remember, we all need help at one time or another, this is "your time" And be thankful that their here to help you.
Page - Gresham, Oregon

Sent by Page Hendryx | 5:22 PM ET | 07-10-2008

God bless you Leroy. My husband felt the same way. He was the big, strong one who always handled everything, always helped out. It was difficult for him to let me do for him. I agree with Charlotte. The Serenity Prayer helps a great deal. May you find peace in the days ahead.

Sent by Laurie B | 5:31 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Having hung up my caregiver role just one year ago when my Dad passed, I can only tell you that caring for our loved ones, giving them a helping hand to get to their feet, making hot chocolate to increase their calorie intake, providing a sponge bath after a toileting accident.....it is an honor and a privelidge and a gift. It is a labor of love and I am so very pleased that my Dad wanted me to be the person who cared for him. He was a very independent and proud man and, initially it was very difficult and depressing for him. Leroy, while Laurie has put her life at least partially on hold, she loves you and I would guess she finds it an honor to help you physically and emotionally on your journey. And while it is emotionally very difficult at times, I cannot imagine she would have it any other way. As James Taylor sings...it' a lovely ride....enjoy it and find something to celebrate each and every day.

Sent by Karen | 5:55 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy:
You have hit a nerve here! For me, an oncology nurse, and a damned good one too, to be dependent on others for rides, showers, food, and my personal safety when I kept passing out, was a big blow. I fought hard to get well enough to come back to work and I dread the downward spiral that I know will come some day. I talked extensively with my pastor about this and he was very helpful. It took a long time but I realized I had to learn to receive. I was very comfortable with giving. Giving made me feel good. Giving led to a sense of purpose. Giving was my legacy. It made me happy. Taking made me feel bad. It wasn't me.I felt "smaller" somehow.

Over time I realized that I was actually giving while I was receiving. That nice warm feeling that I felt when I was the giver was the very thing I was giving to someone else when I was able to graciously receive their help. Do you see how the circle is completed in this way?

Sent by Debra, 3 primary cancers, now with metastatic disease | 5:58 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Our body is a house for the spirit. Your spirit will always soar. Our lessons are sometimes hard. Your lessons much harder than most. Remember that human life is not constant, it is forever changing. Those of us with the scars of cancer know all too well. Bless you sweet Leroy.

Sent by Donna Trimingham | 6:06 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Welcome, friend, to "old age." All of the things you have described is what we elders have to cope with as a way of life. The irony is that when you are young, you keep adding things like experiences, relationships, etc. to your life. When you age, you begin subtracting things from your life --- not able to do the things you used to, losing friends, etc. None of us want to "do the math," but there it is....

Sent by Marilyn Trujillo | 6:42 PM ET | 07-10-2008

It's a bummer to have to ask for help. But, to maybe frame it a little differently, when you were there to help others did you think they were lesser people because they needed help? Did you think they should be embarrassed? I'll bet not. So don't think of yourself as being lesser because you need help. Pride goeth before the fall.

Also, allowing others to help you/me is a way of letting people share their "gifts" with us. Maybe you don't think of Laurie holding your hand and helping steady you as a gift. Maybe your friend driving you to an appointment doesn't seem like a gift. But, our friends and families want to help us because they care about us. If we are too proud to accept their gift we are hurting more than one person. Let them give us their gift.

Sent by Dave U. | 6:51 PM ET | 07-10-2008

My favorite quote from yesterday:

"WHAT???"

'Minding the gap' between my internal perceptions of what I can do, and what the world tells me about myself is a constant process. Sometimes the feedback is useful, sometimes I'd just as soon not know. Whether I'm dealing with an illness, or just plain getting older, having compassion for myself is something I have to work to master.

So, for today, you've polished off a piece of that pride that dulls your spirit (and I think, gets in the way of other's spirits reaching you, if we want to call it caregiving or "life giving" or "spirit giving"...). It's not like you're doing "nothing" :)

I will listen to your interviews again (like re-reading a good book) I'm sure. Thank you!

Sent by Maureen McEachen | 7:44 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Perhaps, humility is the last lesson we have to learn; it leaves us vulnerable and finally we are opened to recieve the love and assistance that those who love us have always tried to give. Being able to receive humbly is a greater gift than giving. Please do not rob those who love you of the gift of giving-they are offering all they have to you in the time you and they have left together.

Sent by Syndi Holmes | 7:53 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, it was great to hear your voice again yesterday. Although when I read your blog every day, your voice comes across loud & clear. I am grateful to you for presenting stage IV cancer in such an honest light.

You mentioned there are problems with compiling your blog into a book. I hope there is a way around those obstacles. It would be a shame if all of your beautiful writings here were not bound together into a book to continue to spread light & strength to others beyond these pixels.

Sent by Ann | 8:13 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, I've heard you mention that this is your only support group a few times.
This is my question:

Why do you only post and then read replies, rather than interacting on the reply forum? I've noticed this trend on a few NPR blogs aside from yours and never understood it. Are you only allowed to throw your thoughts out and wait for replies, unable (by policy) to reply, or do you truly have nothing else to say on any particular day?

It seems odd that you wouldn't have *something* to say to at least some of the posts, yet you never do, unless it's referencing them in hindsight. I realize you don't always write posts the day of posting, but still, two-way interaction would mean a lot, if you can manage it. And if not, we all understand. Many of us have been there, too.

Love

Sent by Bruce | 8:23 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Laurie keeps saying that this stuff doesn't matter. But it does.

Of course it does, to you and her both...but it only matters because she loves you. That's why it DOESN'T matter to her. Does that make sense? We don't stick around for the rewards. There aren't any except time with you, and that's all that counts.

We stick around becuse you matter. That's all. You matter.

Sent by Bruce | 8:43 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy, you remain the "biggest, strongest" guy in this room...the "My Cancer Blog". Asking for help, and receiveing that assistance with grace and dignity, is so difficult for anyone who has been the "strongest". The members of Leroy's Army are lifting you and Laurie in every way we can.
Thank you once again for talking about the "elephant" with total honesty.
Good to hear your "voice" Ruth White!
lac

Sent by Lou Ann Caywood | 9:09 PM ET | 07-10-2008

I like the bare-bones response from Judy Voller, big poopy diaper.
But seriously, Leroy, speaking as caregiver, I took care of my husband until he died, and I always thought of it as a privilege. In the same way it is a privilege to be present at someone's birth. It is a gift, it is a miracle. Peace and strength to you both. from Sherri in Texas

Sent by Sherri Eggleston | 10:05 PM ET | 07-10-2008

My dad went through the same thing; he was the strong one and it was difficult for him to lean on others for help. Yet, it was a wonderful feeling to be able to help this man who gave me life, to try to repay him for all that he had done for me. No it doesn't feel good to be in that position of helplessness, but it allows others to feel worthy and show their love.
My prayers and thoughts are with you and yours.

Sent by Steve | 10:10 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Dear Leroy and Laurie...I think of the two of you every day and hope the day is under your circumstances the best it can be...I know on some level what you are dealing with...my husband has progressive multiple sclerosis and in December, 2007 was diagnosed with a Stage IV Metastatic prostate cancer...the prognosis is what it is and our goal is for Tom to have as much quality and living to his life as possible...he just returned home since being hospitalized since February...I would so very much appreciate it if you could comment one day on your home care...my husband has been evaluated as needing 24 hour care...he needs assistance and supervision with every single part of his day...I must work full time as like every one else there are bills...my husband is retired at the age of 60...my experience is that the very rich and the very poor are in a much better situation than those of us in the middle...each and every day poses such challenges...what do we do...and how do we do it...comments please...Fondly...Ann Patrice Sclafani-Forde

Sent by Ann Patrice Sclafani-Forde | 10:55 PM ET | 07-10-2008

Leroy,

I read your blog everyday. I've only written twice before...words don't suffice. What to say? But you are on my mind a lot these days. Thank you for your interview with Ted Koppel. God's peace, comfort and mercy to you and Laurie in the days ahead. You are deeply loved by so many who have never met you. Thank you for your words.

Sent by Anita - a cancer survivor | 12:43 AM ET | 07-11-2008

I was having lunch, getting ready to walk the dog, and heard some of my favorite people talking about my cancer -- no, yours, and hers. The dog got walked late so I could stay for the entire show. I'm 4-1/2 years past surgery, 3-1/2 years past chemo and radiation, and 4 months past the blood test that tells me I have metastatic disease. I greatly value your willingness to report from our front line. I understand the courage it takes. Yet, as Elizabeth Edwards noted, we're all going to die, she -- and you, and I -- just have a much better idea that we used to have about how. I'm now on your blog list. Thanks.

Sent by Bill | 1:21 AM ET | 07-11-2008

I've been a "lurker," checking your blog everyday as well as comments from readers. Though you write about your experience with cancer-->your thoughts, comments, questions, frustrations, fears, anger, etc, your humanity and honesty shine through. Even if you didn't have cancer, I would still have great admiration and respect for you and Elizabeth Edwards. You both express yourselves with such candor and grace. I really appreciae Laurie's comments, too. As a "life/love giver" for my dear daughter, who has struggled with bipolar disorder since she was 14, I understand the power of presence. Thank you for letting us know that we are not alone

Sent by Nancy B | 1:35 AM ET | 07-11-2008

Leroy:
My father passed away in 2000 from ALS. Like many diseases, it is all about stripping away everything you can do and leaving you with your core. Leaving you with who you really are. It was incredibly difficult for my dad but eventually he was able to accept his limitations and he enjoyed his life until the very end. The day before he went into a coma his friends were over to the house and they had him laughing so hard he was choking. It was a great last day. I don't think he could have asked for anything else.

I hope you are able to accept life as it is and enjoy what is available to you. You are in my thoughts.

Sent by Kathy G | 9:11 AM ET | 07-11-2008

It's so unfair, Leroy! I'll be thinking about you and Laurie this weekend. Please, stay strong in your spirit. Mets cannot go there. I pray that as your body grows weak that your spirit will grow and glow with unbounded strength and beauty!
with love...

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:31 AM ET | 07-11-2008

Leroy - I went back and read what you blogged July 07 "Nature had taken back the field. What had once been bare rock was now covered with bushes, and, to my surprise, wildflowers. Where the air had once been filled with the low moaning of humanity, a sound unlike any other, there were now birds and moments of silence.

I have to admit that I cried. I cried the first time, too, but very different tears, for very different reasons. This time, much to my surprise, I found peace there. The land had been healed. Seeing that helped seal my soul, which had been ripped apart in that field.

So when the cancer begins to overwhelm me, when it brings on the sadness, the anger, the pain, I think back to those minutes of peace I found there. I know that some day, maybe someday soon, I, too, will find peace. And I hope just as that tortured land was healed, those who have shared this road with me will be healed, too."

You inspire me Leroy.

Sent by Carolyn | 10:30 AM ET | 07-11-2008

Giving Laurie and others the opportunity to "help" you is giving them a gift. To be able to express their love for you by giving you a hand when you need it lets them to do a "mitzvah" for you....it gives them a chance to express their love by "doing something". Maybe you will feel better about needing help by thinking of it this way. It was an honor for me to help my mother out when she was weak from her multiple myeloma, and I am glad I could be there some of the time to help.

Thank you so much for the wonderful discussion with Ted K. I imagine you were pretty beat by the end of those two hours. You had a real workout, but it meant so much to us.

Sent by Diana | 10:44 AM ET | 07-11-2008

Leroy,

You are on my mind a lot these days, too. I was glad to hear that you have considered putting the blog into a book form (although not "do-able now") but perhaps in the future? I have learned so much from your experience with cancer and also about you - a great person! Please share your journey with the rest of the world.

May God's peace come to you and Laurie today,tomorrow and in all the days ahead. You are deeply loved by so many who have never actually met you in person, but who carry you in our hearts now and forever.

Take care and have a good bottle of Chianti with dinner tonight on me! You deserve it, my friend!!!!

Sent by Vivian in Delaware | 11:54 AM ET | 07-11-2008

Leroy,

I was one of my mom's main caretakers when she endured 5 years of colon cancer. She was a Nurse her whole life, and I know how hard it was for her to let others do for her. If it is any help to you, I was proud to look after this strong lady who like you had always done for others. And someday, I will have to let someone do it for me, as will we all.

I wish you courage and strength, and thank you for being brave enough to share your story with us all.

Sent by Patricia | 10:02 PM ET | 07-12-2008

I know what you mean. I have enough trouble walking now (hip fracture caused by cancer in that area) that a trip to Target is daunting. So, the last time I went, I got one of those battery-operated carts to ride around in. It was helpful ... but I definitely had to swallow my pride.

Sent by Emilie | 10:46 PM ET | 07-13-2008

I'm known for being "pathologically" independent. Being dependent on others was one of the hardest things to come to terms with. You worry about the stress and physical/emotional/mental hardship it creates for those people who help you, too.

After a while, the frustration, indignity and loss of freedom were things I simply had to shut down. Unfortunately, that resulted in shutting down a lot of other emotions, too.

You're in my prayers.

Sent by Gyla | 2:40 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Yes, Leroy, it's time. Why?--NOT because the end is coming, but because you DESERVE to be comfortable, for how ever many days you have. And it isn't all about pain medicine, but other strategies to make you feel "better." GO FOR IT. Say yes--the hospice workers are true angels, and will help you physically, emotionally, and in your relationship with Laurie and others as well. DO IT. Advice from a pain doctor!

Sent by Nancy Glass, MD | 11:08 AM ET | 07-15-2008

From someone who knows, losing my 65-year-old Mom and one of my best friends one year ago, August 1 ("adenocarcinoma of unknown origin"), I wish you peace. Be comfortable, weary traveler, whatever that means for you.

Sent by Penny Murray | 12:42 PM ET | 07-15-2008



   
   
   
null


 
Leroy Sievers

Leroy Sievers

Blogger

 
 
 

Leroy Sievers in the Ted Koppel Documentary

A Ted Koppel documentary focuses on his friend Leroy Sievers' "My Cancer" blog and the response it evokes.

 
 
 

About 'My Cancer'

A journalist for more than 25 years, Leroy Sievers worked at CBS News, the Discovery Channel, and ABC News, where he was the executive producer of Nightline. He wrote this blog daily until his death in August.

 
 

Discussion Guidelines

Read the discussion guidelines for our blog.

 
 

My Cancer Podcast

MY CANCER PODCASTDownload Leroy Sievers' radio commentaries and exclusive audio segments in the My Cancer podcast.



» Get the Podcast

 
 

Subscribe to 'My Cancer' via E-mail

Enter your email address to receive daily updates from this blog:



Delivered by FeedBurner

 
 

Search 'My Cancer'

Search for the word(s):
 
 

Contact 'My Cancer':

If you'd like to write to the My Cancer staff privately, please use our e-mail form.

 
 
 

Related News Feeds

 
 

Browse Topics

Services

Programs