When I describe the cancerous lump I found in my breast almost three Novembers ago, I explain that it felt like a hard, frozen green pea. The port used for chemotherapy infusions and sewn under the skin near my collarbone? It looked like a bottle cap popping up for all to see. My kids called it a stone. I had to numb my skin prior to treatments -- the needle inserted into the center of the port was just too big and painful. I slathered on my numbing lotion prior to each dose of drugs. Imagine the size of a quarter. I used twice this much. I was wimpy.

There's something about visual descriptions that help us remember some of the more important things in life. Here's a good one:

According to Jeffrey Dover, MD and associate clinical professor of dermatology at Yale School of Medicine, we must not skimp when we apply sunscreen. How do we know if we are cutting ourselves short? We should be using a shot-glass full of sun protection to cover our bodies. Anything less is not enough.

Cancer on my mind is an article written by Dr. Albert Lim Kok Hooi, a consultant oncologist. He opens his article by saying:

As a doctor, I am interested in how the human mind works. As an oncologist, I am interested in the lure of alternative medicine. And so I have tried to understand why, in spite of all the scientific evidence at hand, there are many amongst us who do not want to undergo conventional cancer treatment – surgery, radiotherapy, chemotherapy and targeted therapy – but instead risk being treated by unproven and potentially dangerous alternative therapies.

He goes on to say that this happens because sometimes science is not very well understood. He talks about confirmed bias, a phenomenon in cognitive science, the science of how the mind works. He describes it as a person that -- notices the hits and ignores the misses in support of his own beliefs. So, basically someone might have a strong bias against chemotherapy, for no other reason than what they have seen on television, without really knowing the true facts.