Ovarian cancer is difficult to detect. There are no great screening tests to pick up on its presence in the body, and by the time symptoms appear, the disease has often progressed into an advanced stage. But a ray of light has recently emerged in the study of ovarian cancer -- and it could help in the prevention and early detection of this deadly disease.

Think about this, from the April 2007 issue of Woman's Day magazine:

Researchers at the University of Washington School of Medicine have identified a simple checklist of six symptoms associated with an increased risk of the disease and three of them -- if they occur at least 12 times per month and are present for less than one year -- were present 57 percent of the time in a study of women with early-stage disease.

And the three symptoms are: abdominal and pelvic pain, bloating and difficulty eating, and feeling full quickly.

If you experience these problems, especially if they are frequent or new, contact your doctor because identifying ovarian cancer quickly is key. In its early stages, the cure rate is 90 percent. But for advanced cancer, it's only 20 percent.

Battling cancer can at times feel like slowly paddling upstream against currents that are both forceful and unforgiving. Sometimes reprieve comes only when we find others in the same boat, others submerged in their own rough waters, others who truly know what it's like to navigate a dreadful disease.

I am lucky -- in an odd sort of cancer way -- because I had breast cancer. Many women have breast cancer. And while this really is a horrible fact, it makes for a great sea of support. At times when I felt I was drowning in cancer, I reached for my lifeguards -- the women who paddled before me, the women paddling alongside me -- and they coached me, guided me, saved me from one the worst side effects of cancer. Isolation.

I have rarely felt isolated in my cancer journey and as a result, I have not thought much about this lonely cancer consequence. But I am thinking about it now -- thanks to a reader who has courageously shared her story with me, in hopes of locating someone in her same boat, in hopes of creating connections with other survivors who share the challenges of her disease.

Tanya has anal cancer. She was diagnosed one year ago -- during a routine colonoscopy -- with squamous cell carcinoma in-situ in her anal canal, on the wall between the anus and vagina. Previous abdominal discomfort, much like dull menstrual pain, preceded Tanya's screening but she was sure it was due to menopause. She was 53 at the time.

But it wasn't menopause. It was cancer. And it was devastating for Tanya who was spared radical surgery in exchange for a combination of radiation and a chemotherapy called the Nigro Protocol. First came a mitomycin push followed by four to five days of 5-Fluorouracil. Radiation came next -- for six weeks -- and then Tanya endured another round of the same chemotherapy regimen.

"The treatment was brutal," Tanya says. "By the end of the sixth week, I was in a lot of pain, especially since the affected area had a lot of traffic and could not exactly be decommissioned and allowed to heal."

Although she was told by her oncologist she tolerated her treatment well, Tanya says it was pure hell.

Tanya's treatment ended in March and an August biopsy revealed she is doing just fine. Her cancer appears to be gone. What is not gone, however, is the discomfort that still plagues her -- both physically and emotionally. And while the physical scars are simply terrible -- she feels pain during urination and bowel movements and is currently unable to have intercourse with her knight-in-shining-armor husband -- the emotional isolation is overwhelming distressing.

"I have not shared this experience with too many people since I feel awkward discussing that part of my anatomy and because the condition is so uncommon," Tanya says. "I would, however, be most grateful to discuss any or all of this with someone who has been through the same experience."

If you have been in Tanya's same cancer boat, have paddled similar waters, or know someone with whom she might connect, please consider contacting this brave survivor at sultana@cyberight.net.

A decade of research specific to the inherited form of pancreatic cancer has turned up a gene that could lead to earlier diagnosis and treatment for one of the deadliest forms of cancer.

The magical gene -- called palladin -- was discovered at the University of Washington after the extensive study of one family that has lost nine members over four generations to pancreatic cancer and has nine additional members with early signs of the disease.

Washington resident Ryan Chappell, a member of this family who had his pancreas removed just before cancer could strike, is very excited about this breakthrough.

"I feel really good that my family has not suffered (in vain)," the 21-year-old says. "Something has been accomplished from their contribution."

What the Chappell family has contributed to research is an understanding of a breakdown in a gene that makes a protein for the skeleton of pancreas cells. In this one family, the gene was mutated and produced large amounts of a misshapen protein that rolls like tumbleweed through the body, migrating 50 percent faster than other cells.

Scientists hope to translate their research findings into a diagnostic test to find excess amounts of the protein and to prevent the cancer cells from moving.

For now, early detection of pancreatic cancer rare because the pancreas is deep in the body, making it difficult to feel or see tumors through imaging tests. Symptoms -- like jaundice, abdominal and back pain, and digestive problems -- usually surface only after the cancer has spread.

Cancer of the pancreas is rare but is the third-leading cause of cancer death among people age 40 to 60.

TIME magazine has faithfully followed the issues defining cancer. The topic has made the covers of many issues, and it receives plentiful press on the pages in between. Stories spotlight an array of different cancers, address research and new developments, and offer personal glimpses into the lives of both everyday survivors and those with celebrity status. A look into the archives of TIME magazine -- seven specific issues -- illustrates a proven commitment to the cancer cause. And it proves the mystery of cancer is much the same today as it was many years ago.