I hadn't been on an airplane since 2001. So all of the customs and rituals of airport safety were entirely new to me. I had no idea I 'd be told to remove my shoes before walking through the security contraption or that my baggage would be opened, searched, and inspected. It was a whole new world for me. Prior to 2001, none of these security measures were necessary. A compression sleeve wasn't either.

A compression sleeve -- my own personal security device -- is my new travel companion. Designed to protect my arm from swelling caused by the combination of missing lymph nodes and airplane cabin pressure, this sleeve fits my arm from wrist to armpit. It's tight like a glove and while it's not a very apparent fashion statement, it's slightly visible with its darker-than-flesh color.

I almost forgot to wear my sleeve on my flight to Tucson because I sometimes forget about breast cancer and it's effect on my life still. I sometimes forget how unsafe this world can be too. Then I see barefoot travelers passing through an airport corridor just before a jolt sparks my memory, and I rush to pull on my sleeve before it's too late.

There are four missing lymph nodes up my sleeve. And I must never forget this.

I'm in another hospital lobby -- this time waiting while my three-year-old son has surgery to repair a hernia.

So I'm back to reading a magazine. This time I brought my own not-so-outdated publication -- The Oprah Magazine, April 2007. And as I sit here flipping and turning the pages, there is so much I want to tell you.

I'll be back with more. But for now, think about this:

"...see how the flesh grows back
across a wound, with a great vehemence,
more strong
than the simple, untested surface before.
There's a name for it on horses,
when it comes back darker and raised: proud flesh.
as all flesh
is proud of its wounds, wears them
as honors given out after battle,
small triumphs pinned to the chest."

Jane Hirshfield, From What Binds Us

I have a few small triumphs pinned to my chest -- they show in the form of surgery scars and radiation tattoos and puckered skin where a port once lived. Proud flesh. Stronger than the once untested surface. My honors for having survived a battle.

I wish I could reverse the damage I've already done to my skin after too much time spent in the scorching sun, in search of a tan. It's seems unfair that a tan is so temporary -- yet its damage is everlasting. And it seems crazy that so many people are still searching for a tan -- when it has become so clear that is it so harmful.

As many as 60,000 people a year die from too much sun -- mostly from malignant skin cancer -- according to the World Health Organization (WHO). About 48,000 deaths are caused by malignant melanomas, and 12,000 deaths are caused by other kinds of skin cancer. And 90 percent of these cancers are caused by ultraviolet light from the sun. Cancer is not the only side effect of sun exposure, though -- serious sunburn, wrinkling, eye cataracts, growths on the flesh of the eye, cold sores, and other illness can result from the sun.

We all need some sun -- the vitamin D that is produced in the body by the sun helps to prevent disease and immune disorders. But too much is dangerous and sometimes deadly. Yet almost all ill effects from the sun can be prevented. And the WHO has released a report that advises people to seek shade, to use sunscreen with an SPF of at least 15, and to stay out of tanning salons. The report operates under the premise that sunscreens be used not to prolong sun exposure but to protect the skin when exposure is unavoidable.