Women in England are not showing up for their annual pap tests. And their absence from this critical screening opportunity is increasing their risk of cervical cancer -- a cancer that is curable if detected early.

New figures reveal that 660,000 women between the ages of 25 and 29 are invited for screening in England. Nearly 80 percent of these women accepted their invitations and reported for their tests in 1995 -- but only 69.4 percent did so last year. Women aged 30 to 34 are also down in attendance -- by about 800 women per week. Essentially, this means about 2,000 women each year who have pre-cancerous cells are missing the chance for early detection and diagnosis.

The Department of Health, now investigating the falling figures, attributes the decline to perhaps a not-so-successful screening program, discomfort about the procedure, or fear that the experience will be embarrassing.

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.

Geralyn Lucas, author of the memoir Why I Wore Lipstick to my Mastectomy can see the pages of her book come to life on the television screen this October -- during National Breast Cancer Awareness Month -- when Lifetime TV airs her story and spreads her word for all to see. Headlining in this Lifetime Original Movie are Sarah Chalke (Scrubs) and Jay Harrington (Desperate Housewives) whose performances will capture Lucas' struggle after a breast cancer diagnosis at age 27 and with a mastectomy, six months of chemotherapy, and a job she maintained throughout it all. Her job -- as an assistant story editor for the TV news program 20/20 -- kept her sane. While her physical world was falling apart, her mind was still working. And that -- along with a promotion during the same time -- kept her focused.

After her 1995 diagnosis, Lucas found herself working as Lifetime's own programming director. She also found herself as mom of post-cancer daughter Skye, and then found herself in the midst of writing a book. It wasn't her goal to write a book really -- but she took a writing class which prompted her to jot down her personal breast cancer story. And the rest is history -- and coming soon to a television screen near you. So stay tuned for October's programming schedule -- and find out why exactly Lucas wore lipstick to her mastectomy.

I've been wearing a breast cancer bracelet that jingles with charms in the shapes of hearts, with inspiring little messages like Go with your heart. One of the heart charms is a watch. My friend sent me this shortly after my breast cancer diagnosis. I love this bracelet. So I was sad the other day when the glass piece covering the watch somehow cracked and shattered. I only realized this when I tried to check the time and learned that my watch was not actually telling time anymore. So I went for my back-up -- another watch, exactly the same and also given to me as a gift. I replaced my old watch with the new watch and then days later, my new watch was not working. I think water got inside the glass and damaged the battery or the mechanisms -- or something. I'm sure I could repair the watches -- and I considered this -- but then it entered my mind that maybe this is a message that I am okay now without all my breast cancer gear.

My son shaved my head 16 months ago.  My hair was falling out in clumps from chemotherapy, and I thought the trauma of losing my hair all at once would be somehow less painful than watching it fall from my scalp one batch at a time.  It was still traumatic -- and I cried -- but Joey told me, "It's only a haircut, mommy.  You are not going to die."  Joey was four.  I was 34.  And he was right -- I did not die.  And my hair is growing back. 

It's not the same long, blond, straight hair I once had -- it's now short and dark and curly.  But I have hair.  It feels a whole lot better than not having hair.  Losing my hair was hard.  Being bald was hard.  I never found the strength or courage to flaunt my shiny scalp and I searched high and low for the perfect cover-up.  I found it at Hip Hats.