A study which aimed to examine sexual function in long-term female survivors of genital-tract cancer found that these women were pleased with their cancer care, but less satisfied with the emotional support they received regarding the effect of the disease and of the treatments on their sexuality. The study was performed at the University of Chicago and led by Stacy Lindau, MD.

While 74 percent of women in the survey believed that their doctor should have initiated discussion on their sexuality in relation to their cancer care, 62 percent of women said that their doctors never brought up a discussion of the effects of their treatment on their sexuality. Women who did not have such a discussion were three times as likely to suffer from multiple sexual problems.

"It seems unbelievable to me," said one respondent, "that a surgeon would remove one's sexual organs and never talk about sex."

The cancer survivors were just as likely to be married and in sexual relationships, but were four times as likely to have problems that interfered with sex, including pain, difficulty lubricating, surgical scars, bladder infections and incontinence after sex

In a recent post, I wrote about a study that showed that if we can put a name to our feelings, our brains undergo real changes; our fear is reduced along with the intensity of negative emotions.

Sounds like great advice. Except sometimes it's hard to know exactly what we are feeling.

Marshall Rosenberg, the author of Nonviolent Communication, has created a model for compassionate communication. Rosenberg's model "guides us to reframe how we express ourselves and hear others by focusing our consciousness on what we are observing, feeling, needing, and requesting."

One part of the Nonviolent Communication model is trying to figure out exactly what we are feeling. Rosenberg encourages the use of true "feeling words" when we are communicating our needs to others.

Here is the list of feelings from the CNVC. They include feelings that we might be experiencing when our needs are being met and not being met.

If we can pinpoint how we are feeling during times of stress, whether it be daily stress or the stress related to a cancer diagnosis, recovery, or even a grieving process, we can ask for what we need in a more effective way. And hopefully catch some of that brain-calming effect.

Following up on my post about what patients want upon their first meeting with a doctor (to be called by name, sometimes to shake hands), another study came out this week about another people issue among physicians: physicians who gab too much about themselves.

In a study where actors posed as new patients in secretly recorded visits, doctors talked about themselves in 34% of the encounters.

The researchers wrote in a report in Archives of Internal Medicine, "We found that physician self-disclosures were often non sequiturs, unattached to any discussion in the visit, and focused more on the physician's than the patient's needs."

In 79 percent of the encounters where the doctor went off 'gabbing' about himself or herself, the conversation never returned to the original topic and 11 percent of the time in these encounters, the doctor said things that competed with or offended the patient in some way.

I've met some chatty physicians and nurses. I appreciate the chatter if it is light, small talk designed to put me at ease. And like any other life situation, too much chatter, can be, well, too much.

My husband and I have a friend who was recently diagnosed with a sarcoma. I don't have more specific details about what kind of cancer it is, except that he went to the emergency room with groin pain and the doctors found a mass. Our friend is being treated at the Mayo Clinic, but he and his wife return on weekends, and we have dinners with our large extended family of friends, all together, every Friday night. We have been having these Friday night dinners for years now. We call them Friday Night Literary Society as many of the friends teach in the English department at the local university, or used to, as I did.

The point of these dinners, though, is to have fun. It is not to mention cancer, treatment, or anything else. Our friend doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't need the reminder. I'm sure it's never far from his thoughts. I sat next to his wife tonight, and she talked about how well he was responding to treatments, how he wasn't nauseaus from the chemo. The doctors say he will need surgery in August, and will probably have to have his right leg amputated. It's stark and horrible, and we are all affected by it.

Because we are a tight-knit bunch, we all talked among ourselves because we didn't want to ask the family too many questions, didn't know what they needed from us. We all wanted details, but we didn't know how to get them. The family wanted us to know details, but didn't really want to contact everyone individually. Fortunately, or unfortunately, we are a group who has known tragedy. Another friend died of cancer a few years ago. Yet another was covered yesterday in the Survivor Spotlight. There are more. So, the solution to the communication problem is this: Select a point man. Select one person who is responsible for updating everyone else on what is going on.

Think about this:

I'm just waiting for the call -- the call that prompts my first visit with any number of newly-diagnosed breast cancer patients who want someone to lend an ear, a shoulder, and a few good tips for steering through a scary journey.

I am a new American Cancer Society Reach to Recovery volunteer, trained this past Saturday and ready to help others who are slipping into the shoes I started wearing two years ago. I was first a recipient of this program -- designed to match new breast cancer patients with veteran survivors through face-to-face visits -- and I know well the comfort that comes from the support of someone not so overwhelmed by cancer. So now it's my turn to offer the comfort. And I am oh so ready.

I am armed with literature, communication techniques, gift bags for my patients, and my own official volunteer pin. And while I am a bit anxious about how my first meeting will go, I learned on Saturday that my mere presence will be enough to calm the women whose lives I am about to touch.

There is no better vision for someone just diagnosed with breast cancer than a healthy, happy woman who happens to be surviving the same disease. And so it is hope that I will spread and my unspoken portrayal of life after cancer that will inspire these women. My words will be icing on the cake. It's me these women want to see. And it's these women I want to see as I begin to reach to recovery -- a recovery I suspect will largely be my own.

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

Just two months after her mother lost her battle with gall bladder cancer, Liane was diagnosed with breast cancer. It all happened earlier this year -- and while Liane is still mourning the loss of her mother, she is also still managing the madness of her own disease. Liane is surviving with courage, with determination, with the same powerful spirit that powered her mother's fight.

Liane lives in a small city -- population 43,000 -- in northern Alberta Canada. She has been happily married for 18 years and has two daughters, ages 13 and 15, and a golden retriever named Sunny. Liane loves to garden, cook, read, and spend time with family. She normally works full-time in a real estate and property management office but has been blessed with six months off for treatment. Liane is already -- without a doubt -- a survivor.

UCLA researchers report that doctors are doing an inadequate job at communicating vital information to the patient about the medications they are prescribing. Open communication must be a part of the doctor/patient relationship. This open communication can most often avoid prescription drug misuses, overdoses and underuse.

A report released in 2004 by the National Center on Health Statistics said that almost half of Americans regularly take at least one prescription drug. Half of older patients take at least three or more each day. That is a lot of us. I myself take three separate medications everyday and I'm only 35. I know what they are and I know what they do and I also know their risks and side effects. I also have a pharmacist that always asks if I have any questions about the medication, which I like. I never ask any questions because I already asked my doctors and researched on the internet and found out what I needed to know. Its not that I just want to know what is going inside my body, I am interested in what the drugs actually do. How they work and why they work. It fascinates me so I like to know all the details.

Of course you don't have to be like me and want to know all the details but you should know what your taking and why. Mistakes can be made and you are your number one advocate. Its great to trust your doctor. I completely trust my oncologist but I still ask questions. Thousands of deaths are caused each year because of misuse of prescription drugs.

What you need to know according to the recommendations from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality (AHRQ), which is the federal agency charged with improving health care quality, is that all patients should be given basic information about the drugs that are being prescribed for them. You can find the list of questions here to ask your doctor.

I was in my oncologist office yesterday and noticed a new poster hanging on the wall advertising an on-line system for managing health care -- for scheduling appointments, confirming appointments, locating test results, paying bills, and more. Founded in 1999 and headquartered in Emeryville, California, RelayHealth is the premier provider of secure on-line healthcare communication services that link patients, healthcare professionals, payors, and pharmacies in matters that are medically non-urgent. The website also features news and customer stories and aims to improve the delivery and accessibility of healthcare to patients -- in a seamless manner.

I haven't done much with this service yet -- but I did take a short tour and made a simple search for my physician whose information promptly popped up on my screen. That part was easy. And once I register with a username and password, I will have more access to more information pertaining to me and my healthcare team. And you can too.

If I could go back in time, I would not repeat my journey with breast cancer. I would choose a different path -- one free of disease and treatment and the fear that comes with it all. I would choose the route where my children would never hear me say, "mommy has cancer." The route where there would be less worry about dying, less worry about how my kids would do without me, less worry about how all my loose ends would be tied up without me here to tie them. I would choose another direction in a heartbeat. But there are some things I do treasure about my trip down breast cancer lane -- some things I do not wish to give back, even if given the chance to choose a different path. They are the hidden treasures I discovered along the way, in the midst of a harrowing, sometimes horrendous battle. There are many treasures that have come my way -- and I'm sure there are more to come. Here are seven of my valuable finds.

I have been a cheerleader for the breast cancer drug Herceptin ever since I began receiving it. I had my initial worries -- about an allergic reaction that I knew caused death within 24 hours for a handful of women and about possible toxicity to the heart -- but after faring well through my first dose and having now successfully completed my one year obligation to the drug, with no allergic reaction or heart damage, I have come to believe the Herceptin might just be the gem of a drug that the media says it is. Yet now I've read an article that makes me question what I really know about Herceptin -- and the studies that surround it and the statistics that back it and the messages sent out over the lines of mass communication to every day, non-medical people like me.

There are all sorts of gifts for dad on Father's Day -- shirts and ties and books and coffee mugs and golf balls -- and many of us have already spent money on the stuff we can wrap up and deliver or mail off to dad on this special day. But some gifts -- the ones we can't wrap up -- have an appeal that is priceless because they focus on the moment, they build relationships, and they promote mental and physical health. And here are just seven simple but everlasting gifts to consider sharing with dad on this Father's Day.