My six-year-old Joey told his grandmother -- my mom -- the other day, "Nana, you are generous." It was thoughtful and touching and it brought a smile to her face. Later that night, Joey said the same to me. "Mom, you are generous," he proclaimed. And now I'm not sure if he really meant his sweet sentiments or if he was just practicing one of his new kindergarten vocabulary words. Regardless, it got me thinking about how generous his Nana really is.

My mom not only generously gave me life. She also saved my life -- not in the medical, scientific manner surgeons and oncologists saved my life but by the sheer force of love, support, comfort, and undying devotion that seems to involuntarily pour from the hearts of moms with sick children.

The experts at Canyon Ranch resort and spa know what they're talking about when it comes to health and happiness. They make a living off their expertise, in fact. But they're not stingy when it comes to sharing their know-how, and on the Canyon Ranch website, they offer us all a chance to better our lives.

I promised in an earlier post to share more of what the Canyon Ranchers have to say -- so here are seven more healthy habits you just might want to embrace.

To Carb or Not to Carb

Canyon Ranch has watched "fad" diets come and go, never falling for their quick, easy-fix mentality and consistently advocating for balance, moderation and basic good nutrition. In recent years, some diets have forsaken whole grains for foods rich in protein and essentially free of carbohydrates. Whole grains, which are carbs, have always been a vital part of good nutrition. And while removing high-carbohydrate foods from your diet may initially help you lose weight faster, over time their absence can negatively influence your health.

Making Time for Time

People take classes to learn time management, they rely on the latest technologies to make the most of it and budget time as carefully as their money. Still, when it comes to health care, you may find yourself in a time crunch. Fortunately, Carl Pratt, managing director of the Canyon Ranch in Lenox, offers a timely solution: The 90-Minute Program. "It really only takes 90 minutes a week to stay focused on maintaining a healthy lifestyle. If you aren't willing to dedicate 90 minutes, you aren't willing to take care of yourself, and you need to accept that fact," says Carl. Carl breaks down the 90 minutes per week as follows:

• 15 minutes of planning for "mindful eating"
• 45 minutes of exercise (15 minutes, three days a week)
• 30 minutes of relaxation (five minutes, six days a week)
  

Commuting Bliss

When you change your mindset and treat commutes as a transition time for relaxation or education by listening to music or books on tape, your daily drive becomes a worthwhile experience. "We all see commutes as inconvenient, and we need to think of them as something valuable. Remember, the ultimate removal of commute time is not what people want. Otherwise, we would go directly from birth to death and skip everything in between. If you can't enjoy the commute -- and indeed, some are more difficult than others -- you are simply losing part of your life," says Robert Rhode, Ph.D., clinical psychologist at Canyon Ranch in Tucson.

Family Bonds Tied to Well-Being

Even painful family connections can be a significant part of personal growth. Learn to feel reverence toward yourself even as you feel pain. This connects you with your humanity and your ability to give and receive love. How to get comfortable with painful memories? Relax your body and allow yourself to feel emotions -- anger, pain, sadness -- while maintaining a positive attitude toward you.

An Attitude of Gratitude

Being thankful each day for the good things in your life and the ability to appreciate what you have rather than what you do not have is an important aspect of emotional health and well-being.

Think Big

One key to spiritual well-being is to get outside yourself with activities such as volunteering or contributing to worthy causes."Get involved with others and become committed to something greater than yourself. You start worrying about the greater good and you feel better about yourself," says Evan Kligman, M.D., at Canyon Ranch in Tucson.

Not a Morning Person? It's OK

Giving yourself a workout boost first thing is great for some, but an early morning workout may not be for everyone. Phil Eichling, M.D., sleep expert at Canyon Ranch in Tucson, encourages people with sleep problems to put off their workout for later. He says to enhance sleep, the best time to exercise is usually late afternoon. And people who have cardiovascular issues or certain other health concerns may also want to ease into the day before they strap on their running shoes or cross trainers.

Elizabeth Edwards, wife of Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards, has had many routine medical follow-ups since her 2004 breast cancer diagnosis. And all of them -- until just a few days ago -- resulted in what is generally termed a clean bill of health.

The term doesn't always come with a sense of relief for those of us surviving breast cancer -- or any cancer for that matter -- because it only really defines what our bodies are telling us at one specific moment. There are no magic blood tests, no special body scans, no conclusive ways of determining whether or not cancerous cells have gone astray and will one day surface again.

I asked my oncologist after my first six-month follow-up how he would know if my cancer returns. He told me it's really up to me to determine whether it comes back. It's up to me to get mammograms and ultrasounds and MRIs. It's up to me to report any symptoms and suspicions. It's up to me to track my general well-being so that it will be clear when something feels not-so-right. If I have a persistent cough or headaches that won't subside, my doctor will take action with X-rays and scans and tests. But as long as I feel fine and nothing troubling presents itself, then I remain in the clean-bill-of-health club.

Edwards no longer has a clean bill of health. But she is determined to use her newest diagnosis -- stage four metastatic cancer of the bones, considered treatable but not curable -- to work toward the best health she can acquire for as long as she can hold onto it. And that is about as good as any of us can do.

Former NASCAR champion Benny Parsons, hospitalized on December 26 due to complications from lung cancer, died today in Charlotte, North Carolina after a short battle with the disease. He was 65.

Parsons, who had not smoked since 1978, was diagnosed with cancer in his left lung in July 2006. He underwent aggressive chemotherapy and radiation and announced in October that he was in remission. But the intensive treatment rendered his left lung useless and then a blood clot appeared in his right lung, prompting his admission to the hospital where he spent his remaining days in an induced coma.

Parsons was confident he could survive with one lung and compared his condition to that of John Wayne.

"John Wayne lived and had a great career with one lung," he said. "There is no reason why I can't do the same. It will take a little while for the right lung to pull the weight for the left lung so until then I will still need to use oxygen when I walk. I won't need it sitting or commentating races and to me that is the main thing. If given a choice between cancer or losing a lung I would say that I got the right end of the deal."

Parson's intense spirit was his trademark. It motivated him to rise from a poor childhood, leave behind a taxi driving job, and head straight to the top of NASCAR. His success is marked by his 1994 induction into the International Motorsports Hall of Fame and his 1995 induction into the National Motorsports Press Association's Stock Car Racing Hall of Fame.

One of NASCAR's 50 greatest drivers and the 1973 champion, Parsons retired from racing in 1988 and headed straight into a broadcasting career. He spent the past six years as a commentator for NBC and TNT and even continued to call races from the booth during his treatment. He hosted a weekly radio program and kept fans updated on his condition on his very own blog.

Judging by the comments left for Parsons on a January 8th post about his hospitalization, there was an abundance of love for this man, nicknamed BP by the NASCAR community.

"He was a great driver and a terrific broadcaster, but above anything else he was a kind and generous human being," said Dick Ebersol, chairman of NBC Sports. "His character and spirit will define how he is remembered by all of us. Benny will be sorely missed."

Parson's death comes eight days after the death of NASCAR driver and Truck Series Champion Bobby Hamilton.

My own oncologist did it just two days ago. He checked in on my mental health, asked how I was surviving, and eased my fear of cancer recurrence and possible death. He reached beyond the medical scope of our relationship -- literally. He placed a hand on my shoulder. He offered me a hug. He cared.

Yet many doctors refrain from reaching too far into the lives of the patients they treat. They stay at a distance. They focus on merely replacing illness with health. This is, after all, the purpose of medicine -- to fix people.

Dr. Jeremy Geffen, author of The Journey Through Cancer: Healing and Transforming the Whole Person, shares in his book that "at present, doctors focus primarily on the physical characteristics of their patients -- bones and organs, tissue samples, test results, height, weight, and age. Yet in each of us, there is a rich mental, emotional, and spiritual reality that influences, even directs the course of our lives."

Conventional medicine responds to cancer patients with surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, and other treatment protocols to essentially get rid of the cancer. Physical signs, symptoms, and responses are carefully monitored -- while other areas of patients' lives receive little attention.

A whole component of true medical care is missing -- as doctors may feel unprepared to address emotional issues, and time restraints allow for limited interaction between doctor and patient.

Geffen believes the ultimate purpose of medicine is to help all beings "experience unbounded love, joy, and inner peace, and to know this is the essence of who we truly are." This purpose, he believes, deserves as much attention as the purpose of treating symptoms and curing disease.

And so Geffen created a program based on his Seven Levels of Healing -- a program that includes both the relative and ultimate purposes of medicine, both the doing and the being.

Level One: Education and Information -- provides basic information about cancer and treatment options and encourages patients to actively participate in and obtain benefit from their care.

Level Two: Connection with Others -- explores the importance of reaching out to others for comfort and support on the journey through cancer.

Level Three: The Body as Garden -- invites patients and family members to see the human body as growing and evolving, as a complex garden rather than a machine. This level touches on good nutrition, exercise, massage, acupuncture, and a variety of complementary and alternative approaches to healing.

Level Four: Emotional Healing -- enters the realm of the human heart, shedding light on fear, pain, anger, self-love, and forgiveness.

Level Five: The Nature of Mind -- examines how life with cancer is influenced by our thoughts, beliefs, and the meanings we give events.

Level Six: Life Assessment -- delves into aspirations, goals, and purposes of our lives.

Level Seven: The Nature of Spirit -- embraces the spiritual aspects of the healing process.

As a physician, Geffen aims to bring his vision of medicine and healing to cancer patients everywhere. And he uses his book as an instrument of communication -- so readers can participate in his vision, so they can learn to settle for nothing less than medical care that centers on the whole person. And not just the parts.

To read previous posts on the same topic, visit:
The Journey Through Cancer: Introduction
Sunday Seven: Seven Levels of Healing on Cancer Journey

Stay tuned for:
The Journey Through Cancer: Beverly Is Every One Of Us

It was his father's death from stomach cancer -- and the cold, impersonal, clinical manner in which his father was treated leading up to his death -- that inspired Dr. Jeremy Geffen to become the kind of oncologist he wished had been available for his father -- "someone who could look into the mind, heart, and spirit of a human being as intently as he could gaze at an MRI scan or pathology report; someone who provided love, support, wisdom, and hope."

For the 20 years that have followed his father's death, Geffen's inspiration has led him in exactly this direction. He credits education and a strong network of mentors for preparing him for the path less traveled, for allowing him to achieve his vision for comprehensive, integrative medical care.

Geffen founded the Geffen Cancer Center and Research Institute in 1994, and directed it until 2003. It was one of the first cancer centers in the United States created specifically to provide complete, holistic care for people with cancer and their loved ones.

After working closely with cancer patients over the years, Geffen observed that every single question and concern encountered on the journey through cancer falls precisely into one of seven different yet interrelated domains.

Geffen wrote down these domains -- he calls them the Seven Levels of Healing -- and began sharing them with his patients and staff who remarked that the levels perfectly mirrored their own experiences. And so Geffen kept them fresh in his mind and over the course of time developed them into a formal program that became the foundation for the standard of care offered to his patients and their loved ones.

Geffen's book -- that brings life to the Seven Levels of Healing -- is called The Journey Through Cancer: Healing and Transforming the Whole Person. It is a result of his own personal journey that began the day his father left a dreaded string of words on his answering machine. "Oh, Jeremy. I think I've got a little problem. I had an endoscopy today and the doctor said I have a tumor in my stomach. Unfortunately, it's malignant. Maybe you could give me a call."

Geffen was in medical school when his father recorded these words. Now he is an accomplished oncologist, author, public speaker. He is the father of the Seven Levels of Healing -- soon to be revealed right here on The Cancer Blog.

To read previous post on the same topic, visit:
Sunday Seven: Seven Levels of Healing on Cancer Journey

Stay tuned for:
The Journey Through Cancer: What Is The Purpose of Medicine?

I've been wondering lately about how I might alter my diet in a post-cancer world. I am a moderate eater -- I eat moderate amounts of meat and fruits and vegetables and grains and dairy. And moderate amounts of fats and sweets too. Sometimes I wonder if I am doing myself a disservice by eating meat and processed foods and refined sugar. I've gathered many opinions that indicate that the further our food comes from the dirt of this Earth, the worse it is for us. That perhaps the increase in cancer cases in the United States is linked to the increase in diets rich in artificial stuff. Part of me resists this speculation -- maybe because I enjoy a variety of foods from the entire food pyramid and I just don't want to give them up.  And part of me believes that if this argument is true, then I am a fool to not jump on board and take control of my future health. So I've taken the first step -- I've done some research and have located a destination where I could explore this route with detail and precision by practicing a whole new way of eating and being.

Hippocrates Health Institute, a leader in the field of natural and complementary health care and education since 1956, teaches a vegan diet with a focus on implementing this lifestyle at home. Food is served in its purest form and is fresh, organic, and enzyme-rich. Food is not the only focus at this institute, however. Whole body healing includes various therapies, exercise, and workshops. While living on the premises of this West Palm Beach, Florida oasis for a minimum of one week and a maximum of three weeks, I could cleanse myself of the toxins and stress and anxiety that have invaded my body as a result of cancer. It's tempting. And maybe when my treatment is complete in August, I will become a student of this philosophy. Just maybe.