There are many things we tend to write off as normal signs of getting older. The aches and pain, the slow-but-steady weight gain, feeling cold all the time, getting the occasional sniffles. Sometimes I wonder if these are things I should pay more attention to, but I tend to cast that thought out of my mind because going to the doctor is inconvenient. And usually, ignoring symptoms is ok, but there are some that, according to the Mayo Clinic, you should never ignore, including:

• Unexplained weight loss
• Persistent fever
• Shortness of breath
• Unexplained changes in bowel habits
• Mental status changes
  
• Severe headaches
• Loss of vision, movement or speaking control, even if it's short-term
• Flashes of light
• Feeling full after eating little
• Hot, red or swollen joints

I definitely agree that these should be cause for alarm. My dad started to exhibit several of these symptoms a few months before he passed away, but explain them away as normal aging. Don't make the same mistake.

When I describe the cancerous lump I found in my breast almost three Novembers ago, I explain that it felt like a hard, frozen green pea. The port used for chemotherapy infusions and sewn under the skin near my collarbone? It looked like a bottle cap popping up for all to see. My kids called it a stone. I had to numb my skin prior to treatments -- the needle inserted into the center of the port was just too big and painful. I slathered on my numbing lotion prior to each dose of drugs. Imagine the size of a quarter. I used twice this much. I was wimpy.

There's something about visual descriptions that help us remember some of the more important things in life. Here's a good one:

According to Jeffrey Dover, MD and associate clinical professor of dermatology at Yale School of Medicine, we must not skimp when we apply sunscreen. How do we know if we are cutting ourselves short? We should be using a shot-glass full of sun protection to cover our bodies. Anything less is not enough.

Our bodies are good at telling us when something is wrong most of the time. It is important to listen to those messages and seek medical attention when specific symptoms arise. The June issue of the Mayo Health Letter covers symptoms that should not be ignored.

Seven symptoms not to ignore:

• Unexplained weight loss: This could be a symptom of such conditions as an overactive thyroid, depression, liver disease, cancer or other noncancerous disorders that interfere with how well your body absorbs nutrients.
• Fever: A fever can point to underlying infections. A fever accompanied by chills or one that is greater than 103 degrees should be evaluated immediately.
• Shortness of breath: Gasping for air or wheezing are medical emergencies. Shortness of breath can be caused by asthma, heart problems, anxiety, panic attacks, or a blood clot in the lungs.
• Severe headaches: A headache accompanied by a fever, stiff neck, rash, mental confusion, seizure, vision changes, weakness, numbness, speaking difficulties, scalp tenderness or pain when chewing are medical emergencies. Causes vary for headaches and may include stroke, blood vessel inflammation, meningitis, brain tumor, aneurysm or bleeding on the brain. Most headaches, are just that, headaches but it is important to know the warning signs for more serious underlying conditions.

Keyboardist and songwriter Richard Bell, one-time member of Janis Joplin's band, died one June 15 of multiple myeloma in a Toronto hospital. He was 61.

Bell, who began playing with Joplin's Full Tilt Boogie Band in 1970, was diagnosed with cancer one year ago. He received intensive treatment and made a comeback, despite his poor prognosis. This past spring, however, his cancer returned.

Bell is also known for his musical work with artists such as Bob Dylan, Judy Collins, Joe Walsh, Paul Butterfield, The Cowboy Junkies, Bruce Cockburn, and Bonnie Raitt. His most recent gig was with the Toronto jazz and blue group Pork Bellies Futures.

He is survived by his mother, his sister, and his nieces and nephews.

What is a sentinel lymph node?

www.breastcancer.org explains it well:

The dictionary defines "sentinel" as a guard, watchdog, or protector. Likewise, the sentinel lymph node is the first node "standing guard" for your breast. In sentinel lymph node dissection, the surgeon looks for the very first lymph node that filters fluid draining away from the area of the breast that contained the breast cancer. If cancer cells are breaking away from the tumor and traveling away from your breast via the lymph system, the sentinel lymph node is more likely than other lymph nodes to contain cancer.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer my head was spinning when my surgeon offered me to participate in a clinical trial. The trial would put women in two groups. One would have just the sentinel node removal and the other group would have a full axillary dissection.

Ovarian cancer is difficult to detect. There are no great screening tests to pick up on its presence in the body, and by the time symptoms appear, the disease has often progressed into an advanced stage. But a ray of light has recently emerged in the study of ovarian cancer -- and it could help in the prevention and early detection of this deadly disease.

Think about this, from the April 2007 issue of Woman's Day magazine:

Researchers at the University of Washington School of Medicine have identified a simple checklist of six symptoms associated with an increased risk of the disease and three of them -- if they occur at least 12 times per month and are present for less than one year -- were present 57 percent of the time in a study of women with early-stage disease.

And the three symptoms are: abdominal and pelvic pain, bloating and difficulty eating, and feeling full quickly.

If you experience these problems, especially if they are frequent or new, contact your doctor because identifying ovarian cancer quickly is key. In its early stages, the cure rate is 90 percent. But for advanced cancer, it's only 20 percent.

Virginia Congresswoman Jo Ann Davis announced this week that she has been diagnosed with breast cancer -- again. Her first bout with the disease began in October 2005. Her recurrence was spotted last month during her recovery from an unrelated medical procedure.

Davis, who received both a mastectomy and chemotherapy treatment during her first battle with breast cancer, knows she will conquer cancer for a second time.

"This cancer is treatable," Davis says. "I have just begun chemotherapy and I am very confident of a full recovery. I was able to beat this disease before, and I will beat it once again. I again plan on working throughout this process, and I once again believe that this experience will help me in serving Virginia's First Congressional District."

Davis, who is at home recovering from a ruptured ureter, will return to Washington this month.

This year alone, 215,000 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. And sadly, not all of them will be treated equally.

Researchers reported last Tuesday that breast cancer patients who are either obese or poor are more likely to receive lower doses of chemotherapy. This might be why some women relapse and others do not, according to the researchers whose findings appear in the Journal of Clinical Oncology.

This treatment discrepancy seems to stem from doctors who mean well and want to save certain women from severe side effects of chemotherapy. Doctors may be under-dosing obese patients, for example, because a larger dose based on weight could lead to worse side effects. There is no evidence this is true, however.

As for socioeconomic status, researchers report doctors are assuming less-educated patients won't stick with a tough course of treatment -- and so they prescribe less, in hopes patients will complete the regimen.

Researchers found that severely obese women were four times more likely to get less chemotherapy than they need. Women with less than a high school education were three times more likely to receive low doses of chemotherapy. And women living in the South were almost six times more likely to come up short on the drugs they need to save their lives.

"We have new therapies and cures out there for many forms of cancer and sadly, sometimes we're not curing people because they are not getting the full doses that should be standard," says Dr. Gary Lyman who led the study at the University of Rochester Medical Center in New York.

Take it from Bob Greene, the supercoach who helped Oprah get into the best shape of her life, when he says we all can acquire great health and great fitness -- without calorie counting and deprivation and hardship. He details it all in his new book The Best Life Diet, and he shares a series of how-to guides in the January 2007 issue of Oprah Magazine.

One tool Greene offers as we take on the new year is a hunger scale -- to help us avoid eating mindlessly, to encourage us to get in touch with our hunger, to train us away from always watching calories.

The scale goes like this:

10: Stuffed. Approaching nausea.
9: Very uncomfortably full. Need to loosen clothing.
8: Uncomfortably full. Bloated.
7: Full. A bit uncomfortable.
6: Perfectly comfortable and satisfied.
5: Comfortable. More or less satisfied but could eat more.
4: Slightly uncomfortable. Beginning to feel signs of hunger.
3: Uncomfortably hungry. Stomach is rumbling.
2: Very uncomfortable, irritable, and unable to concentrate.
1: Weak and light-headed. Stomach acid is churning.

Greene says we should eat only when we find ourselves feeling 1, 2, 3, or 4. He instructs us to put our forks down at 5 and 6 and wait for our next scheduled meal. For those trying to lose weight, he says stop eating at 5. This is the point at which you're eating less than your body is burning.

When we memorialize someone at the time of death, we often refer to the date of birth and the date of death. These numbers tell us something -- like the age of the person -- but they don't say much about the life that fills the gap between start date and end date. They don't tell of the life that was surely full of ups and downs and victories and struggles. And happiness and joy and sadness and sorrow. And family and friends and jobs and hobbies. They don't do justice to the true stuff of life that is so much more important than numbers. But there is something important about these two sets of numbers -- something that when really examined, tells the full story. This important something -- the dash.

The dash that separates these static numbers is what tells the story of life. So consider your own dash when contemplating life, while determining how to spend your time and fill your days. Make your dash matter. Make it worthwhile. Make it something that people will talk about long after your own numbers become a matter of permanent record. And when you memorialize loved ones in the future, think about what their dashes mean. Talk about them, remember them, honor them. And pass on this link -- www.thedashmovie.com -- so others will consider the meaning that flows from each simple dash.

It would certainly be better to identify those who are at a higher risk for developing melanoma so that they can be thoroughly screened. This is exactly what might be possible says the Journal of Clinical Oncology.

A study was done that showed if patients were given a questionnaire and a brief examination they could identify who was at a higher risk for melanoma to develop. This information can lead to these individuals getting further interventions such as a complete skin evaluation and counseling to avoid sun exposure.

The researchers stress that this is not a way to identify current melanoma cases but to identify who should have a more thorough exam. Finding melanoma early can lead to 100 percent cure. If you see anything that is about the size of a pencil eraser, is not uniform in color and does not have rounded edges you should see a Dermatologist.

Dr. Fears of the National Cancer Institute in Maryland says "Such interventions in high risk individuals may lead to detection of early, curable disease or to a decrease in their risk of developing melanoma."

Less than one year ago, Rep. John P. "Jack" Murtha, D-Pa., came crashing onto the national scene with his opinion that the U.S. military could accomplish nothing more in Iraq and should be pulled out of the war zone. It was a harsh opinion -- and one his Democratic partners thought might hurt their party at a time when they were trying to gain control of Congress. The fact that the Democrats had been seen as weak on national security didn't help. And then a funny thing happened.

Murtha, 74 -- a decorated Marine and the first combat veteran of the Vietnam War elected to the House of Representatives -- became one of the most popular Democrats around, despite or maybe because of his passionate beliefs. Once a behind-the-scenes kind of man, he is now in the public eye. He's out raising money for Democrats in many states. He's attending fundraising events with Al Gore and others. And he's gathering allies at every turn. And while he still faces opposition, he believes that he must make public what he stands for. And so he does. And because of his recent uncharacteristic charismatic presence, details about this once-to-himself man are emerging. Details like these: A local airport is named for him. An institute for the study of neuroscience and pain is named for him. And a breast cancer center bears the name of his wife, Joyce.

The Joyce Murtha Breast Care Center at Windber Medical Center opened its doors in February 2002. Located in Windber, Pennsylvania, this center began as a collaboration between Walter Reed Army Medical Center and Windber Medical Center and ever since its beginning has offered full diagnostic services for breast health and disease in one convenient location.

Murtha is surely raising awareness with his opinion about the military and national security and war. And even breast cancer gets a little press out of the whole frenzy surrounding this man and his efforts. Which reminds me that somehow, breast cancer seems to touch the lives of just about everyone is some way.

Lynne began her blog on August 6 -- one week ago and two months after she endured surgery to clear a clogged bile duct and received the grim and frightening diagnosis of gallbladder cancer. Her cancer is stage IV -- not an uncommon staging for a hard-to-detect disease that many will only survive for two to six months. So Lynne is scared but still strong and hopeful and full of faith. Her goal is to live -- not die -- with cancer, even though her days may be numbered. So Lynne blogs her thoughts and fears and all the bits and pieces of information she gathers about a disease that is rare and resources that are scare. It helps her. And it will surely help others. And here is a glimpse into what she shared in her first post.

If you had only six months or a year to live, would you want to know? What would you do with the information? Would it make a difference in how you lived your life? These are questions I have been asking for the past two months. In asking them, I have also noticed how little guidance there is for this process. Who have I known personally who was able to anticipate their death? I can think of only two individuals, and I never asked them whether or not they were living differently in their awareness of their mortality.

So, those are the themes in this blog. I look forward to a dialog with those I know, and those I don't about this strange, life changing journey.

To Lynne -- and to all others who are faced with the disease -- may you find peace and comfort and strength in every step you take, every direction you follow, every path that becomes your road to recovery.

In the past year, I have had three severe skin reactions characterized by red, itchy, burning bumps that start on my chest and without fail climb over my shoulders and onto my back. They last for a few weeks, are irritated by the Florida heat, and have had no known cause -- until today when I visited my dermatologist for a skin cancer screening and briefed her on this bizarre condition that has kept me away from sunscreen and out of the swimming pool and in hiding from the sun. I have suspected that sunscreen, chlorine, the sun -- or some combination of the three -- have been my potential irritants. So I've been avoiding them altogether. But I learned today that the sunscreen and the chlorine are not to blame. That leaves the sun, which is the most likely culprit -- and only because I have received chemotherapy with one very toxic drug. Adriamycin.

My dermatologist told me about a phenomenon called UV Recall that is associated with Adriamycin. Apparently the toxicity of this drug, even though administered long ago, can be recalled, causing a reaction when the UV rays of the sun soak into my skin. Sunscreen may help, my doctor told me, but she cautioned me that it is just a screen -- it does not offer full protection. And she said the best suncreen option would include zinc oxide. I think for me, though, staying out of the sun is my best bet. It's not ideal -- it means I will remain on the fringe of the swimming pool, hiding in the shade, while my boys swim their little hearts out. And tropical vacations will be off my wish list. And I will seek outdoor fun mostly after the sun goes down. But this is okay -- I knew there were long-term side effects of chemotherapy drugs. I am just thankful for now that my heart has not been compromised -- a side effect of both Adriamycin and the drug Herceptin that I have also received. And it's also not a bad thing that the steps I must now take to prevent skin reactions are also the steps that protect me from skin cancer. So in some sort of round-about way, my inconvenient skin issues may just help me stay healthy. And that's just fine with me.

Right now -- at this very moment -- my two boys have turned our living room into a mess of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals. They put on their jammies and closed all the blinds and are pretending it's bedtime. But it's actually lunch time, so they have spread out paper plates and plastic silverware and bags of chips and boxes of crackers all over the floor -- on top of all their bedding. I delivered them their lunch platters and lemonade and there they sit, in the room next to me -- chattering away, stuffing their little mouths, full of life. And I am in awe -- of the simple joy that comes from a living room camp-out and picnic, of the beauty these children bring into my life. I am mostly in awe of the fact that no matter what cancer takes from me -- my hair, moments of health, my innocence -- it cannot ever take this very moment from me. And that makes today a happy day.