The kids at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital keep busy getting better. They keep busy making holiday gifts too -- like ornaments and ceramic plates and holiday cards and gift wrap. All of their hand-crafted creations fill the 2006 St. Jude Holiday Hope Gift Book, available now and jam-packed with powerful gifts of hope.

Proceeds from gift purchases -- 84 percent of each sale -- benefit sick children in every community in every country who come to St. Jude for life-saving treatment. Like Caleb, a seven-year-old boy diagnosed in 2004 with leukemia.

Caleb was referred to St. Jude -- where no family is ever turned away because of an inability to pay -- and received treatment for three years. Caleb is now in remission and expresses his feelings through his artwork.

Anna Grace, a five-year-old who was abandoned on a roadside in China when she was one day old, was adopted by an American couple and soon after was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor on her brain stem. After surgery to remove the tumor, Anna Grace was referred to St. Jude for chemotherapy and radiation. Today, Anna Grace is healthy and only returns for check-ups every six months.

St. Jude stories of hope are plentiful. And so are the kid-created holiday gifts offered this season.

Her diagnosis came at the same time as mine -- in November 2004, just after her husband, John Edwards, and John Kerry lost the presidential election. She received the same treatment as I did -- lumpectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation -- and so I was especially interested in her breast cancer journey as it paralleled my own in many ways. But just after her diagnosis surfaced in the media, Elizabeth Edwards disappeared from the radar -- perhaps like we all do in some way while immersed in the maze of cancer. So I lost track of her. But now -- almost two years later -- Edwards is back from cancer, back in the headlines, and back with a new book, Saving Grace.

Edwards, 57, reveals on the pages of her book the intricacies of her cancer ordeal. She shares that she experienced every side effect possible throughout her treatment. She bruised, bled, developed sores in her mouth, experienced numbness in her hands and feet, lost her hair, felt nauseated, ached in her bones and joints, and suffered yellowed and damaged nails -- and then chemotherapy stopped and she went on to the burning, blistering effects of radiation. Still, she managed to survive. And she thanks those who helped her survive -- for their tenderness, encouragement, humor, tears, and love -- and she writes all about it in her memoir that reveals how she juggled life and marriage and kids and cancer and how she arrived in a new place. A happy place.

A reader left a comment the other day on the Cancer Blog post death by cancer dims outlook of promise, hope, survival. It was positive and supportive and inspiring -- and sad too. The reader shared that her mother passed away in February after a year-long battle with gallbladder cancer. She wrote that her mother handled her diagnosis, chemotherapy, transfusions, medications -- and her final days -- with true grace. And this is a big deal. Because there is not much information floating around on the topic of this cancer. So this woman didn't have much to cling to. Like I do. As a breast cancer survivor, I have mounds of resources at my disposal. I have books and magazines and websites and blogs that devote generous coverage to breast cancer. There are walks and runs and yard sales and fashion shows and other fundraisers that make breast cancer survivors the lucky recipients of extensive research and study. I see pink ribbons all over town and license plates on the roads and clothing and hats and even tennis shoes that promote breast cancer awareness. I could go on -- and on and on.

Gallbladder cancer is rare. So perhaps that's why there is not an abundance of information on the disease that has no known cause or test to detect its presence in the body. The American Cancer Society estimates that about 8,750 new cases of gallbladder cancer and bile duct cancer (excluding bile ducts within the liver) will be diagnosed in 2006 in the United States. And about 3,260 people will die of these cancers in 2006. Of these new cases and deaths, about half are due to gallbladder cancer, which affects predominantly women and those who are older than 65. Diagnosis of this cancer is difficult because symptoms do not often surface until the late stages when aggressive treatment becomes necessary. Surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation therapy are typical treatment tools, along with palliative therapy to help control or reduce symptoms. There are also drugs currently under study in the areas of both targeted therapy and immunotherapy.

It's good to know that gallbladder cancer is rare -- and that it takes far fewer lives than breast cancer and other diseases -- but for the unfortunate ones who are diagnosed with this life-threatening illness, the lack of information and resources is a truly an unfortunate side effect.

Dori died this past November after a long battle with breast cancer that recurred and spread and ultimately took her from her husband and two young children. I never knew Dori -- she was one of my blog acquaintances -- but I gather from her words and the hundreds of comments that were left on her site that she was full of spirit and courage and grace.

Dori died gracefully at her home, with the assistance of hospice and a loving network of family and friends. She is no longer able to write in her blog -- No Bra Required -- and I miss her abundant strength and humor in the midst of a exhausting journey. But something happened that I think has eased the transition for those who are struggling with the death of a woman much too young to have left this world -- Dori's husband continued to write. He continued Dori's blog for a bit and then started his own personal blog where he shares the peaks and valleys of a life without Dori and with two kids he is raising on his own. Winter to Spring is insightful and touching and sad and happy. It chronicles birthday parties and school plays and Mother's Day too. It reveals feelings and hopes and wishes and sorrows. The tragedy of it all -- the death of Dori -- is devastating. The upside of the tragedy -- the resilience of a family, the lessons learned, the hope for a brighter tomorrow -- keeps me coming back for more. For more of a story that can break my heart and warm my heart all at the same time.

I visited a neighbor yesterday who has breast cancer. She has had one dose of chemotherapy and just yesterday shaved her head. I stopped by to see her new hairstyle and to give her a gift -- a collection of goodies including a hat, some Healing Garden bath lotions and sprays, a flower pen I made, and a card reminding her that like me, she will survive the madness of breast cancer treatment and will go on to enjoy a full head of hair again. And while our travels will be similar in some ways, they are also very different.  You see, Gayle had a mastectomy and I did not. So I can't relate to the emotion that comes from losing a breast and feeling lopsided and searching for a bathing suit to mask the unevenness and waiting for reconstruction that won't take place until after chemotherapy is complete. But Gayle is one strong woman and while I know she will have dark moments at times, her attitude and spirit is remarkable. I went to visit her thinking I could spread some hope her way and I walked away with a dose of hope from her -- a woman new to this journey yet full of courage and strength and bravery.

Gayle, 33 years old, a wife, and mom of two small boys, told me she will go to work tomorrow with a bald head -- she is not interested in cover-ups -- and this makes her an exceptional person in my book. I never did bare my baldness to the world and kept it covered until my new hair was growing back. I admire Gayle -- and all the women who display their heads like badges of honor -- because she is a true survivor. And one who just might teach me a thing or two.

Photographs of beautiful, brave, bald women fill the pages of Jackson Hunsicker's new book, Turning Heads: Portraits of Grace, Inspiration, and Possibilities.  Hunsicker, a cancer survivor whose initial fear after diagnosis was that of losing her own hair, features portraits of women from all over -- bald women whose cancer and chemotherapy took their hair.  Well-known photographers capture their beauty in this photo book that features cancer survivors in their own natural settings -- like two women posing in Venice Beach, one having never before gone out bald in public, a surfer riding a wave in Hawaii, and a bald and proud Melissa Etheridge on stage at the 2005 Grammy's.  Each photograph is accompanied by a short essay as the women in this book showcase their talents, interests, bravery, and courage. Hats off to Hunsicker for a book sure to be inspiring.