Those of us diagnosed with cancer are not the only survivors of our diseases. Our families and friends and caregivers and even employers and co-workers survive right along with us. Sure, the facets of our survivorship vary tremendously -- but we all survive the wrath of cancer in our own unique ways.My two little boys have spent the past two years surviving breast cancer -- my breast cancer. And while they still don't fully comprehend the magnitude of such a disease, they do understand cancer is a sickness. They understand it took my hair, made me feel sick, left me with scars, and they religiously comment on every pink ribbon they see. They call the ribbons cancer.
I am often asked how my children handled my diagnosis, my treatment, my emotions. They handled it all well, I think, and as time passes, they do better and better. In fact, cancer seems to have vanished into thin air for Joey, who will turn six on Wednesday, and Danny, who is three and a half years old. I know this because of their answers to a few questions I asked them last night, on the eve of 2007.
What was the best thing you did this year?
Joey: Swimming in the pool.
Danny: Being at school.
What was the worst thing that happened this year?
Joey: Getting that boo-boo on my foot, when it scraped on the driveway.
Danny: The cheetah that was chasing me.
What could you have done better this year?
Joey: Learning to ride my bike without training wheels.
Danny: Watching Ice Age.
What would you like to work on during this new year?
Joey: Building a better stick house.
Danny: Drinking milk.
What was the scariest thing that happened this year?
Joey: When I thought there were monsters in my room.
Danny: When there was a cheetah in my room.
What was the funniest thing that happened to you this year?
Joey: When Jack (uncle) and Bud (grandpa) tickled me.
Danny: When the cheetah was chasing me.
When I say the word Daddy, what do you think about?
Joey: Someone who makes me laugh.
Danny: no reply -- he was distracted by the movie Ice Age.
When I say the word Mommy, what do you think about?
Joey: I don't know.
Danny: no reply -- still distracted by the movie Ice Age.
What do you wish for 2007?
Joey: I wish I could fly.
Danny: I wish I could slide on a sleigh.
And that's a wrap. Not one mention of cancer. Not one response concerning endless medical appointments, my drastically different hair, or the port -- they called it a stone -- that was removed from my body in September.
There truly are more important things in life than cancer for two little boys whose memories of a horrible disease will hopefully fade with each passing year -- until not even a pink ribbon catches their attention.
Happy 2007, Joey and Danny. May all your wishes come true!


When a question or concern or worry related to breast cancer pops into my head, I typically find myself parked in front of my computer in search of instant answers, instant comfort, instant wisdom. There are several different websites I consult -- each one different from the others, each one complementing the others. They are my reference tools, my handbooks, my encyclopedias. They offer me a clear picture of a confusing, cloudy disease. And here they are -- seven super websites that have been become staples in my life.
Kim Taylor is a 45-year-old single mother who lives in Suwannee County, Florida and is proud to have successfully raised one daughter -- a graduate of the University of Florida. Kim enjoys outdoor activities like camping as well as sewing, crafting, and carpentry projects. She is most at peace spending time with her family, working as a youth volunteer -- and raising awareness for breast cancer. It's a interest she acquired just two years ago, compliments of a personal encounter with the disease that has taught her to let the little things go, to appreciate every sunrise, to make every moment matter.
Each month, about 22,000 women log on to the
CNN is hosting
The day I was diagnosed with breast cancer is the day I bought
What a great idea! It's the middle of the night and you have a concern about your cancer diagnosis or cancer treatment nagging away at you. Where are you going to go to find the answer -- who are you going to ask? If you live in the United Kingdom, 







