Chemobrain is a known side effect of cancer therapy -- it doesn't affect every cancer patient, but in those who it does tough, it causes a sort of fog to settle over the brain, causing problem in understanding, comprehnsion and memory. But there's good new: A so-called genius drug called Provigil has been shown to improve memory, attention and cognition in chemobrain sufferers. The drug was designed to promote wakefulness in people with sleep disorders.

Sounds promising, don't you think?

As evidence mounts, it's becoming more and more clear that chemo brain, a mental fogginess that can result from chemotherapy, is a real concern and not just a convenient excuse cancer patients use to explain away their flighty and forgetful tendencies. It seems the brain really can suffer cognitive damage from the poisonous drugs that fight off deadly cancer cells. And sometimes, this damage is present years after treatment.

Add to chemo brain the normal aging process as well as brain conditions such as mild cognitive impairment and even schizophrenia and the brain might not stand a chance of ever remembering anything. Unless we buy into the new concept of mental training -- somewhat like physical fitness training -- in which case we may be able to bring back a level of sharpness to our lives.

Research suggests this type of training may delay mental decline. And Betty Hall, 85, who is taking a brain fitness class at her senior living complex in Illinois, says brain-enhancing activities are definitely helping her.

Hall is participating in an eight-week program where she spends one hour per day, five days per week using a computer to match words and listen for details in stories. She says it's helping her remember where she places her keys and her grocery lists -- and it's even helping her in her bridge club.

"I've won four times out of the last five at bridge club, and I think the players are going to shoot me because I keep remembering the cards people have," she said. "It's much easier for me to concentrate . . . and I brag about it everywhere I go."

One clinical professor of neurology says brain health programs will explode over the next few years because of the stunning findings on this front. One study shows relatively short training regimens, lasting just five or six weeks, improve functioning for as long as five years. And booster sessions help advance these gains. Study participants says their everyday tasks, like managing finances, are much easier after mental workouts. Another study of the computer software Hall uses shows the program shaves an average 10 years off the mental age of users.

Not all mental training is alike, and different cognitive difficulties may call for different training protocols. But the simple fact that I can work out my brain like I can work out my body gives me hope that I can possibly reverse the effects of chemotherapy on my own foggy brain, that I can one day not worry anymore that I might find my check book in the refrigerator and my cell phone in my sock drawer. Bring on the workouts!

Thanks to Bev, my brainy friend, for this story tip!

Chemobrain, a term used to describe the mental fog and confusion some women experience after chemotherapy treatment, is very real and researchers who studied the frontal lobe brain activity of women suffering from the occurrence have an explanation for why chemobrain happens. Based on a study done by University of California researchers, chemotherapy drugs disrupt the brain's metabolism and blood flow.

"The same area of the frontal lobe that showed lower resting metabolism displayed a substantial leap in activity when the patients were performing the memory exercise," said Daniel Silverman, the UCLA associate professor who led the study. "In effect, these women's brains were working harder than the control subjects to recall the same information."

In Chemobrain: when a fog settles over your mind, I described my personal experience with the mental confusion and the fog that settled over my mind in the first years after chemotherapy treatment for breast cancer. Chemobrain does not affect every woman who undergoes chemotherapy, but for the women it does affect, the struggle with the temporary damage suffered from chemotherapy on brain function, in diminished capacities of comprehension, concentration, and memory can be frustrating. The fog does eventually lift and patience, as well as engaging in mental activity that promotes concentration, seemed to help.

The current study is published in the online edition of Breast Cancer Research and Treatment.

The tunnel was long. And dark. And winding. And foggy. And ominous. It seemed to last forever -- at the time -- and at moments, time seemed to stand still. I was not sure if I'd ever pass through it and be okay -- if I'd ever see the light at the end. But I did. I tunneled through it all -- somehow -- and I came out feeling more alive than ever before. Now, some time after my escape from the fog, I am already taking for granted the fact that I am breathing, that I am healthy, that I am living. And when my fitness trainer noticed yesterday that I do not get dizzy and lightheaded anymore during my workouts -- when I once had to sit down, breathe, collect my whereabouts -- I realized that some of my progress since exiting my breast cancer tunnel is already lost on me. And I don't want to lose sight of where I was and how far I've come. I want to remember it and measure it and never forget how alive I am at this very moment. So I have started to really think about how things have changed since I felt stuck in time, in a dark place. I am thinking about my times in a hospital bed when I was barely able to stand up, barely able to walk a few steps without feeling like I would collapse. Now I can hop out of bed at a moment's notice, half asleep in response to a demanding child screaming from his bed. I am thinking about my once challenging pre-cancer exercise routine and how a time came when my legs felt so heavy I could not even contemplate walking down my street. Yesterday, I completed an hour of weight training. Today I ran for 20 minutes. Tomorrow, I go back for more weight training. And I remember feeling incoherent, unable to conjure of meaningful thoughts or sentences. And now, despite some potential chemo brain forgetfulness, I am back on track.

I have only just touched the surface. There is so much more to reflect on. So I plan to think more about my travels so I can better appreciate how I arrived at the exact place where I am right now -- where it's light and clear, where time passes at normal speed, where I feel lucky to be alive.