OK, we all know young women get breast cancer. But the way some talk about the pair -- young women and the deadly disease -- it would seem finding a young one living with this type of cancer is like locating that needle in a haystack. Many a young woman -- like me -- have heard doctors and nurses and technicians and family and friends remark, "you are too young for the disease," and then dismiss cancer suspicions as needless worry.

The median age for women diagnosed with breast cancer is 65. But think about this fact, published in the Spring/Summer edition of Beyond: Live & Thrive After Breast Cancer.

More than 240,000 women in the United States age 40 and under are living with breast cancer. Each year in this country, more than 14,000 women 40 years old and younger are diagnosed with breast cancer, says Boston oncologist Ann Partridge, M.D., of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

That's a lot of young women. That's a lot of breast cancer. And yet, mammograms still are not recommended for women under the age of 40.

I remember thinking when my grandma was a spunky 80-year-old -- still going to aerobics classes in her purple tights -- that it must be sad to be such an age when so many friends and acquaintances are falling ill and passing away. My grandma was always one to care for others, call on others, pray for others -- and often she seemed to be the only one in her circle who was thriving. Somehow, she took it all in stride and continued baking and gardening and sewing and living strong until her own death at the age of 86 -- when she left her remaining friends and acquaintances wondering if their own time on Earth was approaching a quick end. At the time, I thought this loss of friends was merely a side effect of aging. It didn't seem to concern me at my own young age of 30. I didn't really know any 30-year-olds who were dying. And I didn't predict anyone my age would be dying until I was closer to the age of 80. How wrong I was.

I am now 36 years old. And I know many women my age who have died -- most of them because of breast cancer, the same disease I have been fighting for nearly two years. So it's not only sad to me that people my age are dying, it's also quite personal and frightening -- for it could easily me in the same predicament. So I feel vulnerable -- so many years earlier than I imagined.

I think I know how my grandma must have felt when her loved ones were leaving her. And I think I will take her same approach to coping with this unfortunate fact of life. Although I couldn't possibly bake and garden and sew like she did, I can keep busy with my own hobbies and interests. And I can continue living strong until my own death -- which hopefully won't occur until after I've made my appearance in purple tights. About 50 years from now.

I read something yesterday written by a reporter who is fed up with the treatment of celebrities in the media. She is tired of the spectacular headlines about babies born to celebrities and adoptions by celebrities and every-day struggles of celebrities that blur the fact that these same things happen to real people -- non-celebrities -- and are rarely covered in the news. Sure, some of the celebrity coverage may lead to awareness. The fact that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are talking of adopting another child may encourage others in the world to reach out to homeless children. But where is the news about hoards of women who gather and walk in search of a cure for breast cancer? And why was the coming-out announcement by former In Sync band member Lance Bass the top news story on CNN the other day? Because people pay attention to announcements like these -- and however disturbing it may be -- is causes a stir. And perhaps, like this reporter says, others will gain some strength from Bass and will tackle their own sexual orientation more openly.

A news story caught my attention the other night. Not because of the news -- initially -- but because of the names that were thrown around. Names like Kelly Ripa and Lindsey Lohan and Molly Shannon -- names that were not all that important in the scheme of the story I would eventually hear. But they hooked me. And then I learned about a great event that took place last Saturday in an effort to raise funds for ovarian cancer.

Super Saturday is a day-long summer fundraising event for the entire family -- created by Donna Karan and sponsored by In Style magazine. The day features a designer garage sale with more than 200 designers, a raffle, a carnival for kids, food and refreshments, and goodie bags. All proceeds -- from ticket sales and the garage sale and raffles -- go to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. Last year's event raised $2 million. And this year, the tally for the ninth annual event that took place in the Hamptons, is yet to be reported. What was reported is that the event was a success -- and celebrities were in attendance. And that made me pay attention.

According to Clemson University bioengineer Dr. Ted Bateman, astronauts who were on the International Space Station and cancer patients receiving radiation therapy back here on Earth suffer in common the same bone loss. As a result, both groups are more likely to develop fractures compared to the general population. It is an easy connection to make when considering cancer patients receiving radiation as part of cancer treatments experience a decrease in bone density and bone loss that can lead to easy fractures as a result of exposure to radiation, but how did the astronauts come to suffer the same type of bone loss? While in space, the astronauts experienced microgravity and were exposed to radiation from cosmic and solar sources.

"Recent exams of astronauts who were on the International Space Station showed signs of bone loss in the neck and vertebrae. Even five years after returning to Earth, they have not completely recovered from this loss," stated Dr. Bateman.

Conducting studies at Clemson University and the Kennedy Space Center, Osteoporosis Biomechanics Lab researchers exposed mice to replicated solar flares and clinical radiation exposure, to measure bone loss in mice, in the hopes that they can develop effective therapies for astronauts scheduled to spent time in space and for cancer patients receiving radiation therapy to fight cancer.

The National Cancer Institute provides a Radiation Therapy for Cancer: Questions and Answers fact sheet that explains radiation therapy, also called radiotherapy, x-ray therapy, or irradiation as using a type of energy called ionizing radiation to kill cancer cells and shrink tumors. They also offer Radiation Therapy and You: A Guide to Self-Help During Cancer Treatment as an educational publication for cancer patients who will be receiving radiation therapy.

To read more about Osteoporosis Biomechanics Lab and Dr. Bateman, go here.

We just had a family water balloon toss -- me, my husband, and our two little boys. Little hands helped fill tiny balloons that were tossed and fumbled and rolled all over our sidewalk and driveway. Our game resulted in wet clothing and wet hair and lots of laughs. And when we walked inside to prepare for dinner, Joey -- five years old -- said, fun is good for the body. I told him that he is so right -- fun is good for the body, And this one fact really needs no scientific proof or validation -- although I'm sure research is out there to support this simple truth. Fun is simply good for the body. And anyone who has felt the aftermath of fun knows what I mean. It sends good vibes through the body, it relieves stress, it refreshes and recharges, it lightens the load.

So try to incorporate some fun into your weekend -- organize your own water balloon toss, fly a kite, take a bike ride, go rock climbing or sailing or swimming. Whatever you choose, consider it a gift to your body. Celebrate yourself. Celebrate life. Celebrate Independence Day. Set yourself free and enjoy all the moments you have at your disposal. And if you like what you feel, try having fun every day.