I never predicted counseling would be part of my treatment for cancer. I am well-acquainted with the practice of talk therapy -- I have a graduate degree in counselor education and spent seven years counseling college students with presenting issues such as roommate conflicts, alcohol use and abuse, sexual assault, and depression -- but I never envisioned myself on the receiving end of such a relationship, never imagined I would be the one prescribed an anti-depressant and referred for cognitive-behavioral therapy.

Yet I have spent the past two years talking candidly -- and at times weeping uncontrollably -- with a talented young woman who has given me the tools to cope with life in the aftermath of a cancer diagnosis. And on Tuesday, the culmination of these two years will result in one final session. Together, my counselor and I will recount what has happened to me, how I have handled it, how I will proceed for the rest of my life.

At the end of my one-hour session on Tuesday, I will be set free. I will walk the white, sterile halls of a hospital basement, travel in an elevator up one flight, and exit a building I never knew could become so familiar. I will allow the outdoors to greet me, and for the very first time since cancer invaded my life, I will accept the challenge of living forward -- without the therapy that helped save my life.

On Tuesday, my case will be closed. On Tuesday, a new version of my life begins.

In all of my research on breast cancer -- and all of my attempts to discover what I may have done to invite this disease into my body -- I have learned that there are some behavioral risk factors related to cancer. Some risk factors are loosely linked and perhaps need further study. And some are definites. Like smoking. And consistent use of alcohol. Now a new study done on rats now shows that nicotine can reduce blood alcohol concentrations and can lead to heavier drinking. Smoking and drinking -- at the same time -- may be even more dangerous than originally thought.

Only two previous studies have examined the interactions between nicotine and alcohol. So there is very little research about how nicotine assists in the metabolizing of alcohol. Until now -- said Wei-Jung Chen, associate professor of neuroscience and experimental therapies at the Texas A&M Health Science Center in College Station, Texas. Chen said it was clear in her study that the presence of nicotine significantly reduced peak blood alcohol content. This was observed only when alcohol entered through the stomach -- and not when injected into the abdomen. For humans, this means that people smoking while drinking will have to drink even more to reach the effect they desire. This will ultimately lead to increased amounts of toxic byproducts in the body. And it may prevent absorption of beneficial drugs in some people who both smoke and drink. And I can't imagine that the list of negatives will stop here. But is there really any more information necessary to support the danger of this combination of risky behaviors -- behaviors that on their own are dangerous enough to cause worry and concern.

There is no doubt that the new cervical cancer vaccine -- Gardasil -- is revolutionary. But writer Peter Sprigg, vice president for policy at the Family Research Council, shared yesterday on the washingtonpost.com that the public should consider two cautions when digesting the news of this breakthrough medical advance. He urges us, first, to understand that the vaccine is not 100 percent effective. It is 100 percent effective for the strains of human papillomavirus (HPV) it targets -- but it leaves 30 percent of HPV strains that cause cervical cancer untouched. And it does not prevent all cases of genital warts either. So it is largely effective. But it does not completely eradicate the disease.

Sprigg also believes that parents should determine whether or not their young girls get the vaccine -- that it should not be mandatory. Mandating the vaccine might be in order if HPV was spread through blood or casual contact. But it is not -- it is spread by sexual contact. And families of young girls might best address this issue through education on behavioral issues alone, without interference from the government.

The wonder of the cervical cancer vaccine is not in question by this writer and the council he represents. But there is often a full picture that lingers behind good news and sensational headlines. And Peter Sprigg offers his take on what he believes lingers behind.

When I first started going to counseling, I was told I would need eight to 10 sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy to help me deal with my anxiety, my panic, my fear of breast cancer recurrence. My first session was in May 2005 -- and I am still going. Those initial sessions are possibly all I really needed -- and perhaps I could have stopped the therapy long ago. But stopping never came up and no one told me I had to call it quits so I kept on marching into territory I had never before traveled. I have a degree in counseling -- but I'd never been counseled. I know how to listen to others and share empathy and ask open-ended questions -- but I'd never been the one talking and sharing and venting and crying and answering questions. Until last May -- when I discovered the appeal and the comfort of the counseling chair.

I marched into one of my sessions yesterday and plopped into a brown faux leather recliner. I talked about my recent graduation from Herceptin therapy and about how I might manage in life now that treatment is over. I talked about my jobs -- as a writer and a preschool teacher -- and how they fit into my world. I talked about the level of stress in my days and about how my once constant fear that cancer was trailing me has largely diminished. I talked about how breast cancer is no longer my constant companion -- about how it is now just an acquaintance. And I talked about how counseling was once so necessary and about how it is now just a luxury that helps me maintain peace as I live forward.

I am not sure when I will stop going to counseling. But I'm not completely sure of much anymore. And I've learned from counseling to not really question the future -- to just live in the moment and to give thought primarily to the here and now. And right here, right now, I'm sticking with my sessions, my one hour every month, my comforting counseling chair.