Keyboardist and songwriter Richard Bell, one-time member of Janis Joplin's band, died one June 15 of multiple myeloma in a Toronto hospital. He was 61.

Bell, who began playing with Joplin's Full Tilt Boogie Band in 1970, was diagnosed with cancer one year ago. He received intensive treatment and made a comeback, despite his poor prognosis. This past spring, however, his cancer returned.

Bell is also known for his musical work with artists such as Bob Dylan, Judy Collins, Joe Walsh, Paul Butterfield, The Cowboy Junkies, Bruce Cockburn, and Bonnie Raitt. His most recent gig was with the Toronto jazz and blue group Pork Bellies Futures.

He is survived by his mother, his sister, and his nieces and nephews.

Blogger Kristina Collins wrote on February 11 about three great steps for reducing the risk of cancer. Her suggestions -- eat well, get fit, and stop smoking -- are such good tips and could certainly account for major health changes in those who heed this advice.

Each one of these recommended lifestyle alterations is a major undertaking. And if you're like me and find big, swift, sweeping changes a sure recipe for defeat, then this short to-do list may seem a bit intimidating. So I'd like to offer a bit of my own advice for accomplishing these health feats -- take baby steps.

Kristina has taken baby steps. She first quit smoking -- I'm not sure there's anything small about this success, however -- and now she's taking on membership at a gym. Cutting down on red wine comes next, she says, as she pursues a life driven by health.

I have just recently taken a baby step myself. I stopped drinking soda -- or pop as I called it before relocating from Ohio to Florida. I'd known for some time I wanted to rid myself of the sugar that comes packaged in my favorite drinks -- Dr. Pepper and root beer -- but for some reason, I was dragging my feet when it came to giving up this vice. Yet I did it. I stopped drinking soda, replaced it with water, and now have no desire for sugary drinks of any kind.

I am a creature of habit. I know this because I spent years drinking only water. But when cancer struck, I turned to the carbonation of soft drinks to settle my upset stomach. With time, my stomach stopped bothering me. But I didn't stop drinking soda. I kept drinking it for no other reason than pure habit. And when I convinced myself this practice was not necessary in my life, I cut it out.

Perhaps I'll tackle chocolate next. Or exercising more. Who knows. I'm just happy I accomplished one small task. And I hope you'll consider taking baby steps in your pursuits for better health. Just remember, we didn't hop up one day and start sprinting in infancy. It took years to fine-tune our ability to run on our own. And it may take years to carve out a healthful way of living.

I've been reading her blog ever since Kristina Collins first wrote about her. I've been reading about her battle with leukemia -- for the second time -- and about the bone marrow transplant she received just recently. I read about her brother who became her bone marrow donor and her family and friends who became fierce supporters and cheerleaders for this young woman sure to beat cancer six years after she first conquered the disease.

Courtney Nicole did not win this battle. Just days ago, in the midst of her bone marrow transplant process, Courtney's body was infected with a bacteria that forced the removal of one leg. It turned out the bacteria was not confined to her leg -- it had invaded her entire body -- and it became clear that the fighting spirit of this woman was needed not here on Earth, but in the heavens above.

On November 14, 2006, Courtney earned her angel wings. In the words of her sister, "she will be young and beautiful forever and always." Indeed, she will.

I will visit my oncologist on Monday for my every-three-month check-up. It's the recurring appointment that will appear on my calendar until I hit the five-year-survival milestone. I am three years away.

It's the appointment that consumes at least half of my day due to endless waiting -- waiting for a parking spot, waiting in the lobby, waiting in the exam room, waiting to pay. It's the appointment that officially begins with the drawing of my blood for lab work, continues with a check of my vitals, proceeds with a history review and physical exam with a medical student. It's the appointment that brings me face to face with the man who prescribed my treatment, the man who offers me strategies for living beyond treatment, the man who helps keep me alive. My oncologist.

And so I am preparing for this visit in the same exact way as I always do. I set aside a large chunk of time for this time-consuming extravaganza. I think a lot about the lab work and wonder if something suspicious will surface. I think a lot about the physical exam and wonder if an enlarged lymph node or mass in my breast will be discovered. And I think a lot about what I want to ask -- because this is my only very own allotted time for unraveling the mysteries of cancer with the man who knows the topic like no one else I know.

On Monday, I will ask a few questions. I will ask about tumor markers, about why I am not tested for these indicators of tumor growth, a standard option for my co-writer and co-cancer survivor Kristina Collins. I will ask about Zoloft, about how long I should continue taking this anti-depressant and how to best wean myself from this drug when the time comes. I will ask about the flu shot, about whether or not I can get one during this same appointment.

And that's all. For now. Until three more months pass and my calendar tells me it's time to return for this recurring appointment that takes me closer to the five-year mark.

Sheryl Crow, breast cancer survivor and active advocate for breast cancer issues, is advising women to demand immediate additional testing when breast calcifications are discovered -- rather than accepting the wait-and-see approach with instructions to come back in six months for another mammogram.

Crow is quoted as saying, "If, after a routine mammogram, the person who is examining you says, 'There's some calcification in your breasts, we'll keep our eye on it; come back in six months' -- don't. Schedule a needle biopsy now. If I had waited six months to do the biopsy, who knows where I'd be today."

Good advice for women who suspect anything is wrong. As our dear friend Kristina Collins, who blogs with us, recently shared in her personal experience of delayed breast cancer diagnosis, when she first discovered a lump in her breast and sought medical attention, she was told not to worry -- she was too young to have breast cancer. No tests were done and Kristina was sent home. She initially trusted her doctor's opinion. Nearly a year later, she demanded tests be done and was subsequently diagnosed with breast cancer.

Unfortunately Kristina lost almost a year when her breast cancer could have been treated at an earlier stage. Unlike Crow, who wonders where she might be now had she waited another six months before breast cancer diagnosis, Kristina wonders the opposite -- what it might have been like if she had been diagnosed and treated sooner. We must be our own best advocate when it comes to our health and insist on cancer screening at the first sign of trouble.