You Can't Have Cancer Alone

I can't tell you how sad it makes me when people write in to say that their husband, wife, boyfriend, or whoever just can't handle it, just can't support them through their cancer.

Getting cancer is a lonely event. Before you know better, you think no one can help. You think you're in this all by yourself. The only people who are really as scared as you are, are your significant others. Your caregivers. The people who will take care of you.

Let's face it, cancer is an uncharted road. Who knows where it will take you? But the one certainty is that we can't get through it alone. We need others, and they need us.

They need us to try to make sense of what's happening. They need us to tell them it will all be OK, even when we know that may not be true. They need us to be us. That's the most reassuring thing we can do.

And of course we need them in all the ways, big and small, that get us through the day.

Maybe this is obvious. But I worry that there are still too many who hide their disease. Too many who walk away from their sick loved ones.

We have many options when it comes to fighting our disease. Going it alone is not one of them.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:05 AM ET | 05-20-2008 | permalink | comments (48) | e-mail post

Does TV Get Cancer Right?

It catches my ear every time.

Cancer does appear on TV fairly often now. Not always where you'd expect it.
A recent Law and Order rerun or Battlestar Gallactica. All the medical shows, of course.

Sometimes it's a major plot point, sometimes a character just happens to get cancer. Those are the ones that are the most realistic, I think.

Cancer is just something that happens to some people. It happened to us.
It turns the world upside down, shakes it hard, and then looks to see what's left.

Like all things, sometimes TV gets it right, sometimes it's totally wrong.

But I think it's a good thing that the issue of cancer appears at all. Not that many years ago, I'm sure, it never came up.

Brian's Song, a movie about Brian Piccolo, the Chicago Bears player who got cancer, is the first one I really remember. People just didn't talk about it.

Let's face it, there are a lot of days that I don't want to talk about it much, either. But ignoring it won't make it go away, unfortunately.

I can't really describe the feeling I get when a TV show deals with cancer, except that I think, "They're talking about me."

And, somehow, I think that's a positive thing.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:05 AM ET | 05-19-2008 | permalink | comments (42) | e-mail post

Holding Out Hope

I want to get better.

I don't think about that a lot. I don't let myself. I spend more time thinking about living with cancer, having the best life I can under the circumstances. And don't get me wrong, I'm a realist. I'm honest with myself. I know what's happening to me, and what's likely to happen in the future.

But I still want to get better.

A tiny part of me still holds on to the very thin hope that somehow I can overcome this. I'm not looking for a cure. I know better than that. But I'd love to just have a normal life.

My old normal, not cancer normal. Just for a little while.

Am I kidding myself? Probably.

The chances of the cancer going away, for any length of time, are pretty much zero. But that doesn't mean I have to give up all my hope. You never know what might happen.

Actually, cancer patients pretty much do know what will happen. When we're given that first prognosis, we learn to ignore it. And the next one, too.

But the overall theme is pretty clear. The end result isn't really in doubt.

Still, I'm holding onto that hope.

Maybe this is just my way of being stubborn.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:14 AM ET | 05-16-2008 | permalink | comments (71) | e-mail post

Been There, Done That

My time off may be over. The scheduling folks at Hopkins are trying to find a day when I can have a CT scan, blood work and a brain MRI. Oh yeah, there's also a 15 minute drug infusion that I need to get as well.

It will be a busy day. I have to admit that I have gotten used to time off from all that. It's been a while since anyone had to stab me with a needle.

Now, there are a couple of things that I'm not going to do. I'm not having another spinal tap any time soon. The risks just seem to outweigh the benefits. An MRI on my spine would be a waste of time, given all the metal that's there now. They wouldn't be able to see anything.

But let's say we do see something troubling. Then what? I don't have a lot of options.

We've pretty much used up radiation. Chemo really isn't an option for me. I joke with my doctors that I've already had just about every procedure there is, but that's not too far from the truth.

So I'm left with that troubling question. If we find something, and I think the chances are good that we will, then what? I hope my doctors may have some new ideas, cause I sure don't.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:10 AM ET | 05-15-2008 | permalink | comments (57) | e-mail post

Can I Get Fries With That?

Of all of the things I ever thought I'd have to worry about, it never occurred to me that "Am I eating enough?"would appear on the list.

I've never had a problem eating my fill. I even came to sorta like the MRE's we ate in the desert in Iraq. The jalapeno cheese spread was a personal favorite. I've been put on steroids twice as part of my cancer treatment, and both times I ate everything in sight.

The only time I ever seriously dieted was when I was wrestling in high school. In order to make my weight class, I ate one meal a week. Literally. Thursday dinner. One night my parents found me sleepwalking in the kitchen, pulling cans out of the cupboards. After that I was terrified that I would eat but not know it.

I've always been a big eater. I'm a two double-double cheeseburger guy at In-N-Out. For those of you who don't know, that's the best burger around. So I was a little surprised the other day when a friend came to visit and he said he thought I still looked skinny.

Ordinarily, I'd take that as a compliment, but my doctors are concerned that I'm really not eating enough. The cancer can do that, take away your appetite. So what should I do? I've started to drink milkshakes and I try to eat a few more bites even when I'm full.

This really is something I need to take seriously, so, yes, I will have fries with that.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:42 AM ET | 05-14-2008 | permalink | comments (65) | e-mail post

Beyond Forgetting

Katy wrote in yesterday with a great question. She asked if I ever forget that I have stage IV cancer.

For a few brief moments every day, I think that I do forget. A good movie, a good book or meal -- those can make me forget. But it always comes back. The pain or discomfort is a nasty reminder that all is not well inside my body. That rarely goes away.

This doesn't mean the cancer has won. It hasn't, at least not yet. I remember that I have cancer in the same way I remember that I had back surgery not too long ago. But that's not all I remember. I remember that I am 52 and have lived a full life. I remember that I am still shocked that I am 52.

I remember the people who are walking this road with me. I remember the things they have taught me. I try to remember to still laugh at things, because the world is still a pretty funny place.

To get back to Katy's question, except for a few moments each day, I never really forget that I have cancer. It's part of my life now, part of who I am.

I can live with that. I have learned so much, been given so much. To forget that I have cancer would be to forget part of who I am.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:03 AM ET | 05-13-2008 | permalink | comments (39) | e-mail post

Whose Move Is It?

What happens now? I guess the next thing on the agenda is to figure out what the next thing on the agenda is.

Most likely we'll do what we always do when there's no obvious course of action. We take more scans. Of course, in my case, after all the surgeries and the radiation, new scans won't show much. My body may keep some of its secrets.

I've been pretty aggressive through all this, attacking the cancer whenever and wherever we can. It seems strange to think that we may slow down a little, that we may have to slow down until it becomes clear what is happening. I guess that means letting the cancer make the next move.

I'm not wild about that. I like keeping the disease off balance. I like to make those tumors worry about what's coming next.

But let's be serious. We talk a lot about living with cancer. I think that's the stage I'm going into right now. I'm going to have to live with my cancer. That may be a little nerve wracking, wondering what the cancer is doing, wondering what each random pain might mean. Waiting for new symptoms to appear.

But until that happens, until we see a new target, I guess that will be the plan. I'm going to have to learn to be patient.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:05 AM ET | 05-12-2008 | permalink | comments (41) | e-mail post

One Case Among Many

There's one cancer case that concerns me more than any other. My own, of course. That's pretty obvious. But I continue to wonder how doctors and nurses are able to handle so many cases when the outcomes are negative. How do they come to work day after day, knowing that they are going to lose most, if not all, of their patients?

I have asked many of them how they do it, and they all have different answers. But I still don't understand.

Over the last couple of years that I've been treated, I've become close friends with some of my doctors and nurses. We get together socially sometimes. We don't talk about cancer too much, but it's inevitable that it will come up. I wonder if, on those occasions, they ever forget that I am a stage 4 cancer patient, and that most likely the cancer will kill me.

At the same time, I wonder if any of my other friends ever forget it. Probably not. Still, it must be incredibly difficult for them emotionally. All I can say is, Thank God they are able to do it. Because if they couldn't, we wouldn't be able to fight this by ourselves.

I hope everyone in cancer world has a good weekend. We all deserve it.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:05 AM ET | 05- 9-2008 | permalink | comments (52) | e-mail post

A Full-Time Job

I am reminded every day that we have built a community of support, and also a community of wisdom. All the comments about depression gave me something to think about.

A number of you talked about the difference between depression and sadness. I think I would add fatigue to that mix as well. I think it's not so much that I'm depressed, it's that I'm worn down.

Being a cancer patient is hard work. And you're on the job 24/7. There are no breaks. You don't get weekends or holidays off. If you don't feel it physically, you live with it mentally. It can be unrelenting. I think that's what I've been feeling.

Boxers get that break between rounds. Football players can catch their breath in the huddle. Sometimes those few seconds can make all the difference in the world, can mean the difference between victory and defeat. I just need a time-out.

Except there are no time-outs in this game. Somewhere deep down in yourself, you have to try to find the strength to just keep going. Sometimes I find it, sometimes I don't. And if you don't find it one day, maybe it will be there the next. But it's hard. Probably the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

-- Leroy Sievers

7:14 AM ET | 05- 8-2008 | permalink | comments (62) | e-mail post

How Do You Deal with Depression?

Laurie asked me if I was depressed. And I answered, "Yes." Sometimes this all gets to me. It wears me down. I get tired of feeling uncomfortable. I get tired of the pain. I get frustrated that I can't just move around the way I used to. So, yeah, I get depressed.

I don't really know how to break out of it. I'm not anxious to take any new medication. What would make me feel better would be feeling better. If just one of the side effects went away, even for a short time, that would help tremendously.

In the meantime, I think all I can do is keep fighting. But I'm open to suggestions. What do you all do when depression raises its head? How do you all fight it?

-- Leroy Sievers

7:20 AM ET | 05- 7-2008 | permalink | comments (159) | e-mail post