The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

I'm sick of talking about this sickness of mine. But there's one more thing I need to say in regards to how it's disrupted my life -- and how one person has helped me pick up the pieces I've left scattered around as a result.

The one more thing: Sickness always throws me for a loop. I'm an organized, planned, on-the-ball sort of person and I don't like how sickness takes me out of the game. I'm not good at sitting around, resting, putting my feet up for extended periods of time. I hate how life passes me by and my responsibilities begin to stack up. I try my best to stay on top of everything but all it really does is keep me sick. It seems the more I try to do, the longer it takes for my body to heal.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

I've been sick for 10 days. Only during the past few days have I started noticing my body is beginning to mend. I judge this by the fact that lately, I am able to sleep.

For days and days, I coughed all night. I might sleep for an hour here and there but mostly, I spent my twilight hours hacking uncontrollably. My cough was so severe at times, it caused me to vomit. My cough was horrible and landed me night after night in a vicious cycle I couldn't control.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

My house was struck by lightening the other day. I wasn't home at the time but heard the violent storm from inside my mom's house, in the same neighborhood. The thunder and lightening was so loud and crashing, I wondered if it would tear through the roof above me. It didn't -- but it did tear apart quite a lot at my house, just a block away.

When I got home, I smelled a burning odor, heard a surge protector beeping, and discovered I'd lost power in half my house. A neighbor came to my rescue -- my husband and boys were at the beach while I stayed home to recover from my recent illness -- and restored the electricity in my house. I thought all was well, except for a cable outtage which I determined a minor inconvenience. But then I noticed plaster, rock, and wood had been sprayed around my boys' room and a guest room. My youngest son's bed was covered. A lone piece of wood sat in the middle of the guest room. Where had this come from?

It came from the baseboards located in one corner in each room. They had been shred into pieces and torn from the walls. And my carpet had been somehow lifted up from the floor and appeared singed at the edges. When I spoke to my husband about this amazing destruction, we came to appreciate just how powerful weather can be. Mostly, though, we counted our blessings. No one had been home. No one had been outside at the time of the strike. Our house had not burned down. Our smallest child was not in bed when the debris flew. We are lucky.

Today, I am grateful my family survived the storm.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

Losing my hair was one of my most traumatic cancer experiences. When first told I needed chemotherapy, I didn't fret about the poisons that would circulate throughout my body, or the nausea that might strike me. What I feared most was losing my hair. It seems silly now. I mean, hair is just hair. If I could trade my hair right now for a guarantee that cancer would never return, I'd do it. But three years ago, when cancer was new and my self-image was faltering, I couldn't stand the thought of losing it.

I did OK once my hair was gone. I found great human-hair wigs and I learned to enjoy my shower-and-go morning routine. I could get ready in an instant. It was all kind of liberating really. Now, don't get me wrong. I was glad when my hair came back. And every day when I look in the mirror, I am comforted by the fact that long dark hair now covers my head. Yes, hair is just hair. But there's just something about it that makes me feel well, happy.

Today, I am grateful for my hair.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

When I think about how much my mom rescued me during my breast cancer treatment, I always land at the fact that she watched my little boys for 35 days in a row while I transported myself to and from radiation therapy. That wasn't all she did -- she also accompanied me to surgery, sat with me during chemotherapy treatments, parked herself by my bedside when I was hospitalized, dried my tears, fed me, hugged me, encouraged me, and loved me.

My mom helped me survive cancer. She is my hero.

Today, I am grateful for my mom.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

For the past six and a half years, I've been a full-time, stay-at-home mom. It's my job, just like my husband has a job. In his job, he gets to actually leave the house alone, go to the bathroom all by himself, eat lunch in peace with other adults, and collect a paycheck each and every month. I get none of that. Still, I get a lot. I got to hold my babies all day, every day when they were teeny, tiny. I got to love and nurture them and observe their every move. I saw them walk and talk for the first time, eat solid food, grasp toys, and eventually, head off to school.

Both of my boys are in school now, so I am without them for about five hours each weekday. Still, I am a full-time mom. I wake them in the morning, feed them breakfast, pack their lunches and backpacks, head them in the direction of matched clothing, urge them to brush their teeth and put on their shoes and buckle up tight in the car. I drive them to their respective schools and return promptly at the end of the school day to pick them up. And then we spend the afternoons together. It's a great job. I wouldn't trade it for anything -- not even a big, fat paycheck.

Today, I am grateful I get to be a stay-at-home mommy.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

The night before my lumpectomy, way back in December 2005, I was consumed with fear, worry, and panic. Since I'd found it, the lump in my left breast had been sitting untouched for nearly two weeks. I imagined the mass spreading with each day and believed I could detect its growth each time I felt for it. A doctor told me if it was growing like I thought it was, my tiny pea-sized tumor would be the size of an apple within days.

My fears were unfounded and irrational. I know that now. But during the moments of uncertainty that filled my days between diagnosis and prognosis, I had no direction. I had only my wandering mind for company. The waiting really is the hardest part. Once faced with the specifics of our diseases, we can take action.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

It's hot here in Florida -- steamy, sticky, humid, unbearable hot. The kind of hot that makes me sweat in an instant. The kind of hot that keeps me and my kids cooped up in the air-conditioned indoors for as long as we can stand it. The kind of hot that has me dreaming about cool, crisp, chilly days. I'd even take downright cold at the moment -- anything other than this treacherous heat.

It's only August, which in Florida means there's still a few months of blistering weather remaining. September will be hot, October could be hot -- last year's trick-or-treat extravaganza was pretty darn warm -- and then maybe in November, we'll get some relief. I don't prefer to wait this long for my favorite of all temperatures -- high 60s, low 70s -- but I'll make it. I might even enjoy the wait while I fantasize of wearing sweaters and jackets and long pants. There's something about anticipation that makes life exciting. The countdown is on.

Today, I am grateful for the promise of cooler temperatures.

The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. It's healing for the soul to be mindful of the good in our lives. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

Both of my little boys are in school now. Joey is in first grade. Danny is in Pre-K. And I am at home -- all alone, for four and a half hours, five days per week, in total and complete silence. I get to exercise, read, write, fold my laundry, wash my dishes, run errands, whatever my little heart desires.

It's been six whole years since I've been able to go to the bathroom by myself, take a shower without the distant sounds of fighting and tormenting in the background, and eat lunch with slow, purposeful bites. After all these years as a full-time mom, my new-found free time is glorious.

Today, I am grateful for the stillness and silence that fills my house when my little wonders are at school.

I AM THE CURE is the Susan G. Komen new rallying cry. Intended to urge us to take an active role in our own breast health and remind us that we all play an important part in finding a cure, these are words to live by. I think I won't soon forget them -- because I have a new key chain inscribed with all four of them.

My aunt just participated in the Aspen Race for the Cure, and she sent me all the goodies she picked up at the race. She gave me the Ford Warriors in Pink scarf -- I've always wanted one and can't wait to wear it on October 20 when I run in my local Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event. She also passed on to me a race t-shirt, the sign she wore on her back -- in celebration of my beautiful niece Jacki, it read -- and pink ribbon magnets, sunscreen, a Warriors in Pink temporary tattoo, and all sorts of other little trinkets. The key chain was one of them.

My new key chain features four different sized pink metal circles, each one dangling from the key ring. On each circle, there is one word. From the smallest circle to the largest, the words I -- AM -- THE -- CURE appear. All on their own, these circles are pretty powerful. But there's more. On an insert that came with the key chain is an explanation for each circle.