The final nine episodes of HBO's Sunday night hit The Sopranos feature the stuff of life. You know -- blood, guts, betrayal, angst, and cancer. It's not quite the stuff of my life, well, except for the cancer part.

Actor Vince Curatola, who plays Johnny "Sack" Sacramoni, powerfully weaves cancer into the end of this popular television drama. Diagnosed with lung cancer, his character is given three months to live -- in a prison hospital bed.

Johnny Sack says very little in the last episodes. He does gasp to his wife in episode two, "I'm very, very sick," but he lacks the lung capacity to muster up much more. He disease is considered stage four.

The cancer depictions -- one shows Johnny Sack shuffling down a long corridor in his hospital robe, oxygen tank dragging behind -- are right on, say those who've taken an early peek at the shows. And reportedly, the cancer scenes pretty accurately reflect the concerns of the larger culture -- where cancer has become an epidemic that sadly, won't come to end in nine episodes.

On December 20, founder of L.A.'s Circle West theater company and member of the off-Broadway Circle Repertory Company in New York, playwright and screenwriter John Bishop passed away from cancer during his stay at a clinic in Bad Heilbrunn, Germany.

Marshall W. Mason, founding artistic director of the Circle Repertory Company is quoted as saying, "John was one of our major writers. I think next to Lanford Wilson, he was our most prominent writer; he wrote many plays for us. Bishop had a remarkable insight into the dark side of human nature, which he saw in both a comic and satiric way. All this served him very well when he came to Hollywood because of that sardonic view, and also he was very into action. He made a good screenwriter as a result."

Bishop's credits are many, both as a playwright and screenwriter. Plays produced on Broadway included The Trip Back Down, The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940, Elmer Gantry, Borderlines, The Great Grandson of Jedediah Kohler, Winter Signs and The Harvesting. He directed The Beaver Coat, El Salvador, Florida Crackers, and Empty Hearts. His screen credits included Drop Zone, The Package, Sliver and Beverly Hills Cops III. Described by the New Yorker as "one of our best dramatists," Bishop was 77.

Last week, I watched actress Emma Thompson portray with real power a life derailed by cancer in the 2001 HBO screen adaptation of the Pulitzer Prize-winning drama Wit by Margaret Edson.

I watched the movie, on DVD and in the privacy of my own home, almost six years after it was released -- and two years after my own cancer derailment. I like the order in which it all happened -- having cancer and then watching the movie, rather than watching the movie and then having cancer.

Thompson's portrayal of Vivian Bearing, Ph.D., professor of 17th-century English poetry, and expert on the sonnets of John Donne, was entirely real -- so real I sometimes felt I was reliving my own journey with cancer.

The cold, impersonal delivery of Bearing's treatment plan -- eight high-dose, experimental chemotherapy treatments taken over the course of eight months for stage-four metastatic ovarian cancer, an aggressive and advanced form -- reminded me of the matter-of-fact manner in which doctors speak to patients, the manner in which my own oncologist spoke to me, void of compassion and warmth and concern.

The on-going sterile and clinical interactions Bearing encounters from doctors, technicians, nurses, and medical students allowed me to appreciate the very few caring souls who crossed my medical path.

Bearing resolves to become a scholar on cancer, just as she has on Donne. And while I am no Ph.D. scholar, I did study cancer, sometimes to a fault, in order to acquire some sort of control over what was happening to me.

Chemotherapy makes Bearing sick. It made me sick too. Chemotherapy lands Bearing in hospital isolation. It landed me there too. Cancer scares Bearing. It scared me too.

Sometimes, cancer -- the return of cancer -- still scares me. But mostly, I am happy to be alive, happy to be watching movies that authentically capture the reality of cancer, movies that make me proud to have overcome what Bearing's doctor calls an insidious disease.

Dealing with cancer in private is hard. Dealing with cancer publicly can be even harder. CEO Donna McAleer -- the founding executive and public face of the large, growing health care company Elant -- knows this firsthand. She just recently went public with her breast cancer diagnosis and prognosis after rumors of her demise started circulating. McAleer set the record straight, announcing that she is doing just fine. While her experience has been frightening, she is surviving well -- and she wants the public to know. She has run Elant for 20 years and wants to dispel any myths about its stability. Apple CEO Steve Jobs faced the same public drama in 2004 after surgery for pancreatic cancer and subsequent drops in Apple stock. Jobs recovered -- and so did the stock -- but the speculation that swirled was powerful and potentially damaging. Just as it was that same year when Kraft Foods was criticized for withholding details of its CEO's hospitalization.

There is some debate in the business world about all of this -- about whether or not executive illnesses should be disclosed. For public companies, one opinion is that there is an obligation to respond quickly to the public. In a private company, it's up to the CEO. McAleer's Elant is not a publicly traded company and there is no worry about stock price -- but her decision to reveal her personal health crisis was the right thing to do, she says. "I have an obligation to share this news in how I progress, in order to educate and make sure people aren't frightened by it," she said in reference to the memo she sent to her 700 employees and community groups too.

I'm open and honest about my own cancer experience because I believe it can help others -- and it helps me to talk about it too. So I'm a fan of a forthcoming approach in the workplace. I appreciate that some fear repercussions that might result from such a disclosure. But honesty may be the best policy -- for prevention of rumors and addressing worry and raising awareness too. McAleer seems to agree as she takes this opportunity to speak up, to encourage women to seek mammograms and to follow up on them.

Does life imitate art or does art imitate life? It's an age-old chicken and the egg question of which came first and which then followed. When it comes to primetime television, with images beamed into the living rooms and bedrooms of nearly every household in this country  -- it might be more the subject of distortion for the sake of sensationalism than imitation.

Today, the Academy of Television Arts&Science announced this year's 58th annual Primetime Emmy Awards nominees for drama series that include two weekly medical shows, House and Grey's Anatomy. Scrubs is nominated in the comedy series category.

Which got me to thinking about the impact, if there is one, on the viewer's idea about the medical community.

While there might be a drug-addicted doctor out there with such a genius IQ that he is supported by a medical team that makes allowances for the anti-social behavior his addiction creates, I am certain in real life the medical community does a better job of self-policing itself than they do in regard to House.

When it comes to watching the social drama of sex, introspective angst and egos run rampant on Grey's Anatomy, I suppose when you put any group of people together it's only a matter of time before some of them become entrenched in a mobius strip of narcissism, but still I don't believe this is a realistic representation in the life of an intern.  

At least Scrubs is just silly and does not attempt to seriously portray itself as anything other than a light-hearted spoof. But when it comes to shows written with an intent for dramatic real life settings, I wonder if the images we are exposed to on a regular basis can have an influence on perception and can alter attitude -- especially if you are not critically analyzing what you are watching -- and for the sake of entertainment, who does that?  Do you think these medical shows, on a subconscious level, affect the viewer's perception of the medical community?

weSPARK - an acronym for support, prevention, acceptance, recovery, knowledge -- was the cancer support center Wendie Jo Sperber wished she could have visited when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. A place more like home than a hospital. Sperber, a single mother, felt that the emotional challenges of cancer were more difficult than the physical ones. Four years after her breast cancer diagnosis, she opened the doors to a community-based recovery center that offered free holistic services designed to heal the mind, body and soul.

Sperber, an actress who starred in the television series Bosom Buddies, lost her life to breast cancer in 2004. In July, a second weSPARK center will open offering support groups for patient, family and friends, grief workshops, art classes, yoga, drum circles, teen drama groups and meditation. The dream of Wendie Jo Sperber in creating a place of warmth and comfort for others struggling to survive cancer continues.