Those of us diagnosed with cancer are not the only survivors of our diseases. Our families and friends and caregivers and even employers and co-workers survive right along with us. Sure, the facets of our survivorship vary tremendously -- but we all survive the wrath of cancer in our own unique ways.

My two little boys have spent the past two years surviving breast cancer -- my breast cancer. And while they still don't fully comprehend the magnitude of such a disease, they do understand cancer is a sickness. They understand it took my hair, made me feel sick, left me with scars, and they religiously comment on every pink ribbon they see. They call the ribbons cancer.

I am often asked how my children handled my diagnosis, my treatment, my emotions. They handled it all well, I think, and as time passes, they do better and better. In fact, cancer seems to have vanished into thin air for Joey, who will turn six on Wednesday, and Danny, who is three and a half years old. I know this because of their answers to a few questions I asked them last night, on the eve of 2007.

What was the best thing you did this year?

Joey: Swimming in the pool.
Danny: Being at school.

What was the worst thing that happened this year?

Joey: Getting that boo-boo on my foot, when it scraped on the driveway.
Danny: The cheetah that was chasing me.

What could you have done better this year?

Joey: Learning to ride my bike without training wheels.
Danny: Watching Ice Age.

What would you like to work on during this new year?

Joey: Building a better stick house.
Danny: Drinking milk.

What was the scariest thing that happened this year?

Joey: When I thought there were monsters in my room.
Danny: When there was a cheetah in my room.

What was the funniest thing that happened to you this year?

Joey: When Jack (uncle) and Bud (grandpa) tickled me.
Danny: When the cheetah was chasing me.

When I say the word Daddy, what do you think about?

Joey: Someone who makes me laugh.
Danny: no reply -- he was distracted by the movie Ice Age.

When I say the word Mommy, what do you think about?

Joey: I don't know.
Danny: no reply -- still distracted by the movie Ice Age.

What do you wish for 2007?

Joey: I wish I could fly.
Danny: I wish I could slide on a sleigh.

And that's a wrap. Not one mention of cancer. Not one response concerning endless medical appointments, my drastically different hair, or the port -- they called it a stone -- that was removed from my body in September.

There truly are more important things in life than cancer for two little boys whose memories of a horrible disease will hopefully fade with each passing year -- until not even a pink ribbon catches their attention.

Happy 2007, Joey and Danny. May all your wishes come true!

I remember reading that Barbara Delinsky, novelist and breast cancer survivor, never shared her diagnosis of cancer until well after her fight was over. She feared the news would somehow halt her career in the publishing world. She wanted to remain untainted by disease in the eyes of her readers and bosses so she saved her secret. The secret is out now -- and is also part of a book she wrote called Uplift: Secrets from the Sisterhood of Breast Cancer Survivorship. She is in the clear now -- but she once feared the consequences of managing both cancer and her career.

The experts who offer a website resource at cancerandcareers.org believe that it is possible to combine cancer and career without fear or worry or secrecy. The advice provided on this site offers wisdom for working women and for employers and for co-workers. There is also a forum for shared stories -- where all of these individuals weigh in on their experiences. There are reading recommendations and a listing of available programs and services and a complete story about how this all came about.

Five years ago, the Board of Directors at Cosmetic Executive Women -- the preeminent nonprofit organization representing women in the U.S. and European beauty industries -- realized that five out of their 40 members had been diagnosed with cancer. Some told their colleagues at work and some did not. But all continued to work and experienced similar challenges. The fact is that work does not stop for all women who have been diagnosed with cancer. So the mission of this group is to help women, their employers, coworkers, and caregivers deal with this problem in the same way that they have learned to deal with problems at work -- strategically, knowledgeably, and effectively. With the right tools, stress and difficulty can be minimized. And this site is one great tool.

Some employers are understanding while others are not so accommodating when it comes to an employee's need for a more flexible schedule or time off from work while they undergo the rigors of chemotherapy, surgeries and other cancer treatments. According to the Disability Rights Legal Center at Loyola Law School, cancer can be considered a disability, and cancer patients treated unfairly have remedies through laws that protect the disabled.

"In fact, people with cancer face a lot of employment discrimination," states Eve Hill of the Disability Rights Legal Center. Barbara Schwerin, who heads the Cancer Legal Resource Center, estimates they get about 300 calls from cancer patients each month. Because of the extreme fatigue, and other disabling side effects a cancer patient can suffer from cancer surgeries and treatments, patients often worry if they will lose their job in the process. Schwerin reassures them that they often have legal rights that will protect them from less understanding employers. Really, the last thing a cancer patient needs to worry about -- while they are fighting to stay alive and survive cancer -- is whether they will have a job or a roof over their heads and food in the pantry.