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Just Another Day

It was just another day at the hospital, except that it wasn't quite the same. I had to go back to the chemo room as a patient again. But instead of the usual five-hour infusion, I only had to be hooked up to the machine for about 20 minutes. I was getting a drug that will strengthen my bones. And I talked with my nurse the whole time, so the minutes flew by.

Then it was off to the MRI. This was another one on my spine. I had a spine MRI about six weeks ago or so, and they read it as clean. But then the PET scan last week lit up, so this one is to get a more precise location on the tumors for radiation, or whatever treatment we decide on. It's still unclear if I can have radiation, or if we need to try something else.

As you all know, I'm a pretty big guy, and the MRI tube is relatively small, so it's a tight squeeze. So tight, that my right arm went to sleep. And I was in there for more than an hour. My doctor had warned me about changes in sensation in my arms and legs, because of the tumor threat to my spine. So I'm lying in the machine, wondering if that was starting? I knew better, of course, and it was fine as soon as I could move it. With nothing else to distract you, your mind can always find things to worry about.

But this isn't like any other scan day. I'm not worrying about the results, not counting the hours until I find out what's there. No, I already know what's there. There's no suspense, and there's no fear. So next up is a meeting with the doctors to try to figure out what we're going to do. I want to continue to be aggressive, continue to attack the tumors as soon as they show up, but not everyone may agree with that.

So all in all, just another day.



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Some rambling thoughts....don't you wish the MRI machine could play some soothing music while doing its scanning rather than the clanging and banging (perhaps that is a song unto itself); always know that the PET/CT scans do sometimes report "false positives" so let's hope; if uncertain with any treatment recommendation, get a second opinion and perhaps a third then YOU decide; MD Anderson has a new radiation device called a linear accelerator and it is more precise than anything else in delivering the radiation to any tumor without affecting the surounding tissues. Might check it out even if Hopkins says can't irradiate that area again. Its precision might enable it to be done.

Lastly, I believe that you (we) must be aggressive in treating the cancer. It is not a passive disease and if left unchecked....well, you know the rest. I also understand that even with aggressive treatment, nothing is guaranteed.

So,Leroy, after sorting and selecting through all of the recommendations and treatment options, pick the one that seems best for you. Go forward and don't look back or second guess yourself.

We are all there with you in spirit. Hundreds are sending you good thoughts and prayers. Use them to help you each day.

Blessings and prayers.

Sent by Al Cato | 7:23 AM | 6-14-2007


I agree with Al Cato, moving forward and no looking backwards. This is not a passive disease. I am glad that you are also going to be aggresive. Take things one day at a time. So many of us are with you. I really pray for strength for you and all those affected by this terrible disease. Keep up the fight.


Sent by dorothy | 7:56 AM | 6-14-2007

Good! Stay aggressive! It's way too soon to be anything else. Remember, if you hadn't been aggressive, you wouldn't have gotten this far.
Best Wishes for a good day.

Sent by Marilyn | 8:06 AM | 6-14-2007

I watched your recent show hosted by Ted Koppel and I've enjoyed reading your blog since that time. And though I don't normally participate in the wonderful world of technology, I wanted to use this opportunity to say 'thank you'. Thank you for taking the time to do so and for sharing what certainly is, the most personal of experiences & emotions.

My name is Barbara and I am a 2-time cancer survivor. At least so far I am. But as I come upon the next week, I am in a place of deep sadness and regret. Sadness & regret that what should have been my 20th wedding anniversary (6/14) but will never be. Instead my former spouse will remarry just 4 days prior, on 6/10.

Though it's unfair to blame cancer, I do believe my first diagnosis almost 9 years ago was the snowball that started the snowman, so to speak. We had been married 11 years when the world of cancer became my world. You're so right, it takes over your life and nothing is ever the same again. But I've also found positive in this experience. Positive in the respect that this brings out the best in humanity. Kindness, caring, support of family & friends eager to help & be there for you. The wonderful health care professionals and their bags of drugs ever present to help keep the enemy at bay, the offer of hope. The self-awakening experience that it's people and simplicity that are important...not material possessions. (In case you had not already figured that out.) That most definitely it's not "Good to be Important - It's Important to be Good"!

And yet, it sometimes takes it's toll in a negative way. Yes I have certainly changed and grown in ways I never could have imagined 10 years ago, but if I knew then what I know now, I might have had a reason to look forward to next week instead of what for me will be almost as difficult has hearing those 3 dreaded words - you have cancer.

My reason for writing this note, well I'm not really sure if it's therapeutic or meant to pass on a word of hope to those who may have experienced a similar journey as I. Though I can't go back and change the past, I can continue to look forward with hope, faith and thanks. Thanks for being cancer-free at this time, for having learned what's important to me and for being grateful for all the good in my life.

And strength, let's just say that my first diagnosis in 1998 most certainly helped prepare me for the second, which I completed treatment for just 5 months ago. You CAN enjoy each day and a gift, you CAN always keep hope and you CAN be grateful for love.

I wish you peace & hope on your journey.

Barbara Gaedtke

Sent by Barbara Gaedtke | 8:13 AM | 6-14-2007

WHAT A PAIN IN THE ASS! Ok, I just had to say it for you. They squeeze you into the tube where you have too much time to ponder and body parts go numb. Then time ticks and later they deliberate on what's best. Yes, they are trying to help you but it just isn't fun. It all just sucks. Sigh.

So, I have no words to make it better but I do know that YOU KNOW what you are doing. You've been down this road and know what to ask and how to deal. It ain't easy but you can do it and you obviously are. Kick some cancer butt. (I cleaned up my language.)

I am off now to bleed for the peeps and for them to schedule another scan. I don't have to tell you...

We love ya LeRoy (THE KING).


I've sent you a lot of hugs and kisses and don't even really know you. LOL!

Sent by Lori Levin | 8:13 AM | 6-14-2007

I've had a frustrating couple of days. My doctor was supposed to be checking on RFA for one lung tumor but seemed to have left town for two weeks before doing this. I called the office and the nurse practioner decided she could schedule this. They called me back with an appointment and I had to say, "doesn't this doctor just do livers." They of course acted like I was nuts and then called back to say, "we are so sorry you were right. We've made another appointment with a lung surgeon." I called the lung surgeon's office and he doesn't even do RFA. So I am on an investigative hunt of my own. I called my orignal liver surgeon and their office gave me a name and I am waiting for a call back from that office. If this doesn't work I may have to pursue going out of town.

Whenever I end up in these situations I really worry about individuals who do not have the resources, whether it be financial, emotional, etc to work through the mazes. I know how lucky I am to have worked in "systems" my whole life, so I have a little bit of experience pushing forward.

Leroy, I hope all goes well. It does suck that you (and all of us) have to continue down this path. My thoughts are with Stephanie this morning as I know many blog folks are. Peace

Sent by Dona | 8:14 AM | 6-14-2007

living with cancer , i sometimes feel like a VERY small fish in a VERY large ocean. and like you say , it is just another day.

Sent by marianne dalton | 8:15 AM | 6-14-2007

Leroy--Hopkins has Linacs, and such. I don't know what dose your spine got already, but everything has a tolerance dose. Neurosurgery can sometimes decompress lesions as well, if that is an option. Steroids can also help with the swelling...

p.s. Al--Linacs are everwhere.. not just MD Anderson. Protons are likley what you're talking about, they are more precise around the spine and other 'high real estate' areas. MGH, Florida, Loma Linda are few of the places with this device.

I hope you are well Leroy... I think of you and Lori everyday. Do what you feel comfortable with.. how aggressive do you want to be? It's your body, and you're in charge of it. Remember that.

Sent by Krupali Tejura MD | 8:15 AM | 6-14-2007

Dear Leroy, Al Cato says it all. You are always in our thoughts and prayers. And Mr Cato, you also have been quite an inspiration to me. Your comments are so very eloquent and heartwarming. You say what most of us are unable to put into writing. Thank you.

Sent by sasha | 8:37 AM | 6-14-2007

Dear Leroy,
Listen to your soul and after weighing your options, go with whatever treatment will keep you fighting! You know that I'm with you and will be here to support you, as will everyone who knows you. You have given so much of yourself, let those whom you have touched give you the strength and peace that you need. Thinking of you each day and with you in spirit!

Sent by Judith Tynan | 8:45 AM | 6-14-2007


This is the first time I have commented. I have been following your blog since the TV special. . . my daughter Tess (from KY) asked me to watch. She has been writing for quite some time and I am so thankful and greatful b/c it has given her a way to talk about her cancer, her feelings, and what is bothering her at the moment she is feeling or thinking it . . . not when a support group meets or the right time with her family, friends, etc. So I thank you!

I read the blog every morning. It has helped me as a mother and caregiver/support giver to listen, read between the lines, and know that is okay to cry (just because).

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. My prayers are with each of you and may God's caring and healing arms wrap around you in his mercy and love.

Sent by pe | 8:46 AM | 6-14-2007

Leroy, I agree with you. I want to be aggressive and fight my cancer with every option. I am having a difficult time finding the support I need from the medical community. I have gone for a month with no treatment while we know my cancer is growing. I have run into an administrative nightmare trying to get into a clinical trial. My clinic doesn't want to release records and patholgy samples. They tell me I am a goner regardless of what I do so I should slow down and enjoy the life that I have left. My insurance doesn't think a second opinion is necessary and I guess it doesn't matter because no one wants to see me since my progosis is poor. Meanwhile I feel fine and have no symtoms.

Keep fighting,


Sent by Jill | 8:47 AM | 6-14-2007

Prayers this morning. Hoping your meeting with your team is today, and then you have "the plan".

Seconding the false positives regarding the PET scans - we have experienced that several times and the MRI has proven otherwise.

If the news is the same, then let the battle begin. Team Leroy is bigger and badder than ever.

Continued prayers. We are here for you as you are for us.

Sent by Melissa T | 8:55 AM | 6-14-2007

Today I find out CAT scan results. I have tried to remain positive but you can't help but be afraid. My husband says that no matter what we will just keep on. So today will be just like any other day. I will pick up my new uniforms, clean the bathroom and maybe go to the beach later. LIFE goes on even if it's not exactly how WE'VE planned it.

Sent by Vicki (FL) | 9:05 AM | 6-14-2007

"Cancer is so limited. It cannot cripple love; it cannot shatter hope; it cannot corrode faith; it cannot destroy peace; it canot kill friendship; it cannot suppress memories; it cannot silence courage; it cannot invade the soul; it cannot steal eternal life; it cannot conquer the spirit; it cannot lessen the power of the Resurrection."
I found this in a friends blog today and I thought I would share it with all of you. I am not sure who wrote it but it is so true.
My fiance's tests are on Monday. After reading this today, it helps to calm my heart. I have been so afraid, after reading this today, I am hoping today I will find more strength to help my guy fight his disease. He has had his 7 chemo and 37 radiation and now we go forward again. We may get a reprieve. Stage 4 lung cancer may rear its ugly head at anytime. I have cried for you all and my fiance and now it's time to wipe away the tears and prepare for battle. We have one heck of an army behind us. We can win this fight...
Leroy, thank you for staying strong in your own battle, it is helping me to be prepared for whatever may come to pass.....

Sent by Laurie | 9:06 AM | 6-14-2007

Elizabeth: Thank you for responding to me the other day. I do have many questions regarding treatment. I'm getting ready to come off my meds in the middle of July and my doc says that I won't be allowed to work/drive and probably won't have the energy to take care of Sophia. I just wanted to know what side effects you felt during your treatment. Or do you utilize the new Thryogen drug that can be administered keeping some type of thryoid hormone in your system. I'll also be put on a low iodine diet...have you done this? I don't know what to expect while in the hospital. I'd much rather discuss this with you through a personal email address because I have so much I want to ask.

I've been down the past day or two. I sometimes feel like those around me forget that I'm having a tough time right now. I'm doing my best to raise my 4-month old, Sophia, with my husband...but we are both in terrible need for a break. I'm trying to deal with work, that completely exhausts a point where I come home and just lay on the couch. And now, a new battle seems to be occurring, migraine headaches. As I type right now, I can feel a twitch on my left temple that lets me know a bad headache is on the way. I guess I'm just frustrated that I don't have anyone I can talk to that understands me. My family tries, but as my husband said last night, "he not's laying in the bed, he's beside it." I know that he's giving me everything he has, but I'm just feeling beaten down. Just one of those days...and how I hate those days!

As always Leroy, you're in my thoughts and prayers!

Sent by Tess from KY | 9:29 AM | 6-14-2007

I agree with Al's comment about doing whatever you feel is right for you. The same as Elizabeth Edwards, she is doing what she feels is right for her. My prayers and support are with you.

Sent by Carolyn Mohaupt 2 yr. BC Survivor | 9:33 AM | 6-14-2007

Being an adult sized male as well Leroy, I recall the first time I had to have a PET scan. I had to come in for a "Test Flight" to make sure I could fit through the machine. It was actually good, because I got a taste of what to expect, so it made the actual scan a bit less stressful.
Stay strong.

Sent by Brit | 9:33 AM | 6-14-2007

My first thoughts of today and the past several have been with you and with Stephanie. Today's wishes include the best surgical outcome for her.

When I was first diagnosed in Feb 2006, the PET scan lit up like a Christmas tree. The surgeon (who specializes in gyn oncology) still cautioned that he wouldn't know for sure till they actually had a look. At first I was dumbfounded. I thought, how could a specialized surgeon at one of the foremost US comprehensive cancer centers be so unwilling to believe the most detailed technical data he has? I went into surgery not knowing whether I'd have removal of all gyn parts accompanied by resection of other abdominal organs, or nothing removed at all because they'd seen too much and would want to treat with chemo first. Sure enough, it turned out that the PET scan had double imaged some tumors as both within and behind my abdominal walls, and I only required gyn removal. Even so, the surgeon couldn't remove all tumors. On the plus side, there was much less than expected left for the chemo and targeted therapies to go after. I'll always remember the date of that surgery as the day when I had my first positive news since diagnosis.

Sent by Sheara | 9:50 AM | 6-14-2007

What a wonderful email from Al Cato! Full of hope and good recommendations. This is the kind of input we all seek. Thank you Al. And keep plugging away Leroy. We're all with you, and with one another.

Sent by Debbie Carlson | 11:44 AM | 6-14-2007

Post attempt #2.


Of COURSE you are going to be aggressive. That is who you are relative to this disease. You're right, others might make other choices, but isn't the freedom to do what we choose a good thing!

It does seem to me that living in a process - physical, emotional intellectual, and spiritual. It doesn't feel appropriate to suggest that someone isn't in the "right" place in his/her process. Both guns blazing is right for you now.

If you ever don't feel that way, it isn't giving up so much as being in a different place relative to your illness. That's okay, too.

You are more in ,my thoughts and heart than I would have expected.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 11:46 AM | 6-14-2007

I see only 1 comment thus far today. First of all, I don't know how you keep this site
up. Secondly, I don't think people know how to respond. I've had much 1st hand experience that many diseases can take us in a flash. But somehow, the C word strikes so much more fear. What an emotional disease.

My son goes in for a 3 mo. scan in a few
weeks. Always a 'testy' time. He is also off work for almost 1 yr. Having many years to retirement, the insurance is a HUGE issue.

I can only wish you well & send good thoughts your way.

Sent by Joan P | 11:59 AM | 6-14-2007

Like the Beatles song, right? I figure what the hell, the insurance company has already spent about $1.3 million, what's another couple grand for another test? I'm with Al. Go to Houston, catch a ballgame at the world's most expensive ballpark (maybe 2nd to Shea), and do another test if you think it'll help. My drop dead date is July 7. Bet the over.
"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."--HST

Sent by Thomas J. Clarke | 12:04 PM | 6-14-2007

Leroy, I was so startled by the juxtapostion of your facing this day with "no fear," and your recap of it all as "just another day," that I had to reread your entry to make sure I had seen it correctly. What a rearkable state of fierce grace to be in! I hope you and your docs will come to a ready concensus on next steps, and that you will feel good about the plan. Your blog has allowed many of our individual roots to become a little entwined, giving us all a much stronger foundation from which to operate. Thank you for that, and for your clear-eyed way of facing everything, and reporting from the leading edge of the front.

With solidarity and blessings,

Sent by Sarah | 12:22 PM | 6-14-2007

It has been almost two months since I have had my brachytherapy to my tongue. I want to be more aggressive because I am of the opinion that if you are not doing anything it is allowing the cancer to grow.

I have alwasys hated the MRI machine because of the close quarters. One of the imaging places here in Vegas has a vertical open MRI , Looks pretty interesting,

I have a cT scheduled for today. Hopefully everything will turn out ok and the cancer has not grown any more.

Take care

Sent by clark | 12:29 PM | 6-14-2007

Mr. Sievers, Leroy, ? Do you have a preference when it's a stranger addressing you? I want to be respectful. I also want to send you some sense of a hand on your shoulder for comfort, (although there are probably lots of people who are supportive and comforting to you during this ordeal). From one human being to another, you are in my thoughts and prayers and (as Mattie Stepanek would say, "heartlight").

Sent by Kim B. | 12:35 PM | 6-14-2007

Leroy, you should think of sitting on the beach drinking a Mi-Ti while having an MRI.

Sent by Cynthia Philpot | 1:01 PM | 6-14-2007

Your attitude is contagious! Go get 'em! My prayers are always with you!

Sent by Kay | 1:40 PM | 6-14-2007

Hi Leroy, I read your blog today and it made me think of my experiences in "the tubes". As I read it, I actually could here the hum of the machine. Anyhoe... it got me thinking of this one time I had a MUGA scan... and it made me laugh so I thought I'd share it. (By the way... a MUGA for those who don't know, takes pictures of your heart function, because one of the drugs I was on could destroy the heart muscle). Anyway... this scan takes about a half hour or so. So... I'm lying there on this skinny little board with a sheet over me and... (now this is a bit embarrassing) but, I had to pass gas. So I tried really hard to "hold it" but I just couldn't any longer. The tech was not in the room and well I... "let it go" ... anyway... I was glad that it didn't smell. The tech came back in when the scan was done and he took off the sheet that was draped over me and whelp... out came the smell.... I was sooo embarrassed, I didn't know what to say... so I told him "I'm sorry... I farted"... he looked around the room (as to see if anyone else was there) and said "I guess this is as good a time as any" and he let one rip!! We both just started laughing! It was so funny! He said "Don't worry... we've seen it all here!" He walked me out and we were just laughing the entire way... Take care Leroy.... remember to laugh!! Shirl

Sent by Shirl | 1:42 PM | 6-14-2007

Keep on fighting and fighting hard. You beat the tumors back before and who's to say it won't happen again and it will kill them for good. The doctors and nurses at Chapel Hill, where i had my cancer treatment, told me alot of the battle is mental, and a fighting spirit, and that you have Leroy, in abundance. You are a true fighter I think that alot of us read your blog daily to keep our spirits up..cause you tell it like it is..and it makes us feel we are not in this alone. Thank You for that. You will be in my thought for a great comeback!!!

Sent by Dana Porter | 2:03 PM | 6-14-2007

Dear LeRoy,
I promise to keep this as short as possible, but I do have to make a comment on "being aggressive". It was June 2006, one year ago, when my surgeon made the comment "Oops, I think I made a mistake and did not get all
very aggressive, going from doctor to doctor, writing and reading everything I can get my hands on, and trying to get help to find out what is brewing inside my body. The doctors all agree, from labs and xrays, that "I am a very sick girl", but they cannot figure what is happening and keep sending me from one doctor to another, refuse to talk with each other to compare notes, and I keep doing my research, and worrying and crying, because it is all I can do, besides spending 8-10 hours a day, with very little energy, on the computer, the phone, trying to find someone with the intestinal fortitude to go further and find out why I am so sick, instead of shuffling me from one place to another. Like your MRI, for example, coming out "clean", then the PET scan shows it is not. Why do they have to stop at a CT and bone scan for me and not go further when there is plenty of evidence something is terribly wrong?
I am very angry with the medical community, my family, my "friends", I have been deserted by everyone and fighting this MONSTER alone, very ALONE, literally, and I am running out of will and hope to continue. It seems the harder I try, the behinder I get!
I have always been resourceful, and intelligent, now I feel like a stupid bowl of jelly, TOO TIRED to do much else, and I do not want to give up and give in to this, but I am at the point I have no idea what to do next.
Everytime I talk to someone, they refer me back to the idiots who are telling me I am sick, but they do not know what to do. Why are they physicians? Why did they choose this profession if they are not going to help someone like me who depends on them for my very life?
I have no idea what else to do, except believe I am not fortunate enough to deserve to have a ticket with a "number" on it, to keep waiting in line. So, I continue to wait alone an scared out of my wits!!!

Love, Briana

Sent by briana | 2:50 PM | 6-14-2007

I think it is amazing that anyone could even be in an mri for one hour. The clautrophobia is more frightening to me than the cancer! I have to be XANAXED before I enter the MRI and an open one does not work for my type of cancer. Anyway, Leroy, it sounds like you are rebounding. Good for you! Good for us all!
Susan in Chicago

Sent by Susan P | 2:57 PM | 6-14-2007

Hello, this goes to the state of mind cancer patients have, and that hope springs eternal and you just never know what God is going to send your way to pull you through. I read an e-mail about a soldier fighting in Iraq sent from a dear friend recently who knows about my family's cancer struggles. Don't know if it really happened, or it's just fiction, but it was purported to be originated by the mother of the marine. Having a 19 year old son, it had particular resonance with me. Somehow, this marine ended up with a "female" care package, complete with panties, lotions, etc. As they were going out on maneuvers, he ended up grabbing some items out of the "female" care package,...chapstick, etc, and a tampon by mistake. All the other marines had a good time reminding him not to forget his feminine hygiene products. To make a long story short.... on this maneuver, a marine was shot, and the stray, misguided, seemingly laughable tampon was used to plug the wound, thus saving the man's life. A cheesy story to be sure, but when you're grabbing for every little bit of hope and encouragement, sometimes the sappiest stuff can make you cry and make a difference in "just another day" with cancer.

Onward and upward!!!

Sent by Connie | 2:59 PM | 6-14-2007

Dear Stephanie, my thoughts and prayers are with you and your loved ones today.

Sent by sasha | 3:05 PM | 6-14-2007

Leroy kick it's ass, remember you are doing it not only for yourself but for all of us survivors.(That's not putting too much pressure on you is it?) Take care I know you'll
come out on top. We need a strong leader such as yourself and Lance Armstrong.

Sent by Tom | 3:21 PM | 6-14-2007

Leroy, Time in the hospital seems to stand still for me. Things take what seem like an eternity to get done. Sure, I know it isn't really forever, it seems so. Everyone is great there, just not the place you would rather be.

Today is my birthday (61), I wonder if I will see the next. My mom called to wish me a good day, and in the conversation, she said she wished she had not lived so long to see her son sick. Talk about an emotional conversation. I wish, I could just turn the clock back, but no time machine here. We go on. That is what we do! You know we are all there with you, every step of the way. Thoughts and Prayers. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 3:37 PM | 6-14-2007

Shirl - Thank you for that laugh - it was the only one I had today!

Sent by Vicky | 8:57 PM | 6-14-2007

Hi All,

My sister was diagnosed at Stage IV, head and neck. The tumor most probably began @ the base of her tongue, and ultimately advanced to the right vocal cord. Laryngectomy was not even an option, the trach was a necessity, she was in impending respiratory failure. She has a PEG, a feeding tube, and hasn't had anything by mouth since November 2005. Right now, because of the location of the tumor at the base of the tongue and the proximity of the upper most part of the esophagus, and the ports of radiation her esophagus has fibrosed (closed) over. One Dr. says there is no way she will ever eat normally again, another says, it is possible to open the esophagus and I can do it. Who do we chose to believe the second of course. She claims she WILL eat and swallow again. Her speech is much clearer, and she is determined. GO SHARON! Only you can possibly make that happen.

That is what all patients and families do every single day.... fight, cling to hope, and Dxxx anyone who takes hope from us.

Good evening to all.

Sent by Susan Chap | 9:03 PM | 6-14-2007


Sent by Beth | 9:05 PM | 6-14-2007

Leroy!! go baby go! You're big and strong and can outlive your pesky tumors!! As I read yr entry (late) today, I realized I finally found a place where I belong, with others who face challenging heartbreakers like me and all of us. P.S. Who are the "others" who "may not agree"??

Sent by Sherri Eggleston | 9:26 PM | 6-14-2007

Hi Leroy,

Today was my visit with my oncologist and we went over my CT scan. Now it seems the little pancreas cancer cells have snuck into my liver where they have set up camp and are very happy. A 4.5 cm tumor was found. This is since radiation/5-fu constant infusion. I'm presently on Gemzar again. So we're adding a once a day pill that is for the liver. I guess they've had good success with it. So my battle intensifies once again. And life goes on. I went out at 01:30 this morning to work on my boat building project and didn't quit untill 11:30 am to get ready to go to the cancer center. I'm rolling in energy. Guess that could be taken as a good sign. Tomorrow's another day. But right now I'm feeling a little tired

Sent by Lou Mayers | 9:48 PM | 6-14-2007

Dear Leroy,
This is my 1st post. I have been so inspired by you. I am a 41 year old woman with stage 4 cancer. The primary is unknown, I have had chemo, radiation, surgery and am now on a clinical trial. The hardest thing for me is knowing life does indeed have an expiration date. I was diagnosed 16 months ago, I am so fortunate to be treated at the University of Chicago. Most people with me diagnosis don't make a year, so I have been very lucky. The hard part is I have never had "good" news. My cancer has spread to my abdominal wall, pelvis and most recently my liver. I am having a PET scan next week, my white counts are very low and they are concerned.
I miss the simple times, when I did not know that I had cancer and I felt that I had a long life ahead of me. I, like you, never skip to the end of the book, I like to watch the mystery unfold. I think the hardest thing about this is watching my family and friends go through this with me. It makes me sad to see the pain this causes the people I love. Cancer does not fight fair!
Stay strong Leroy, I will too. Let's show the bully known as cancer that we are not going down that easy!
My prayers are with you. Martie

Sent by Martie | 10:43 PM | 6-14-2007

A couple of years ago when I had a MRI done, they told me to bring the CD of my choice to listen to while the test was going on. They gave me headphones and I listened to the Eagles. Last summer I had a feeding tube inserted in my stomach, when I climbed on the table one of the technicians asked what I wanted to listen to?? He had an I-pod with speakers, so I listened to Los Lobos and Bob Segar. It sure made me relax and enjoy the ride.

Sent by Sam Means | 11:21 PM | 6-14-2007

2nd day in a row that you have not shown my comment. Thank you! You have proven to me that this is not simply and innocent blog but one inspired by the Drug Companies and Doctors. Do these comments have to be all hearts and flowere? Life is not that way!

Sent by Jeanne Rakowski | 5:41 PM | 6-15-2007