I'm sending off my wig to a new friend tomorrow. It's all wrapped and boxed and packaged and ready to travel from Gainesville, Florida to the east coast of the sunshine state where it will land in the hands of a young women newly diagnosed with breast cancer.

This new friend found me here -- on The Cancer Blog -- and we have been corresponding back and forth via e-mail about all sorts of cancer topics -- like surgery and pathology and chemotherapy and most recently, wigs. She asked me just the other day what type of wig I wore after I lost my hair to chemotherapy. I told her I didn't like full wigs, that they felt too unnatural, that I feared my little boys would rip them off my head in the middle of the grocery store. I told her I opted for underhair -- a hairfall of sorts made of plain, white, soft cotton on the top with hair hanging only from the sides and back. It is worn with hats, to cover the cotton part, and it feels quite secure -- although it did sail off my head at the beach one day, compliments of a strong breeze.

I told my new friend that I was completely happy with my choice. I told her the underhair is made of human hair and that customers get to choose the color, texture, length, and size. The wig can be washed, dried, curled, styled, and cut. It looks so real that some people didn't even know chemotherapy took my hair. It was the perfect disguise for me.

I led my new friend in the direction of this wig -- www.hiphat.com -- where she could order her very own handmade underhair. I told her to ask her doctor for a prescription for a cranial prothesis and to see if her insurance company would reimburse her some of the cost of this fairly expensive wig option. And then I realized it would be silly for her to do all this work and spend so much money when my wig is tucked away in my closet, sitting pretty on a nice styrofoam head, doing nothing more than collecting dust.

I don't need my wig anymore. But my new friend does. So tomorrow, it begins traveling her way. And she can keep it for as long as she needs it, for as long as I don't need it. Which I hope is forever.

Five years ago, Mimi Barker, a young woman in her 20s, was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her younger sister Lela, intent on understanding how her young sister could develop breast cancer, began researching possible breast cancer causes. What she found prompted her into reading ingredient labels of all the beauty and bath care products in her bathroom, and she was stunned to find most had the paraben ingredient researchers were suggesting increased breast cancer risks for women.

Lela advised Mimi to get rid of everything that contained paraben, and she did the same. Faced with the reality that the market did not offer many appealing natural and organic personal beauty care products, Lela began making her own in her kitchen. She shared what she made with her sister and her friends. Lela found she enjoyed creating soaps, bath salts and lotions that rivaled the commercial products in aroma and texture.

Lori Fischer began making handmade dolls for her children. Soon her friends were asking for a one-of-a-kind doll of their own. Once, when a friend was suffering hair loss, she made a doll without hair -- and she included wigs and hats for the doll as accessories and gave it to her friend. She started holding doll making workshops. According to Fischer, women and their daughters, or groups of friends, have spent the day sewing, eating, and socializing in a way that has all but been forgotten.

In the fifteen years since she began making dolls, her dolls have evolved into works of art that are shown in local art galleries.

Last year, she was awarded a grant through the City of Oakland's Cultural Arts Funding Program to visit children in two hospitals for the purpose of teaching them to make hand-stitched, one-of-a-kind dolls.

The children that she works with are cancer patients at the Bone Marrow Transplant Center who are required to spend long periods of time in the hospital. Spending time making a doll takes the child's mind off the struggles and challenges they face. Each child is allowed to be expressive and create a doll that reflects individual creativity and personality.

Some of the dolls the children have made, and dolls that Fischer makes, can be seen at Dolls4ArtSake.

Pat Bohman is a grateful mother. Her daughter Kelsey, who was treated at Children's Hospital in Denver for leukemia, has made it through the battle. During the Christmas season of 2002, Pat thought about the children still in the hospital fighting cancer and she wanted to make them gifts. She came up with idea for the Marshmallow Launcher -- a kind of blow gun that shoots marshmallows. The children make a poster target by drawing pictures of cancer cells, the poster gets put on the wall and then the kids shoot marshmallows through a pipe-like device at the target. Marshmallow Launchers are a big hit with the kids at the hospital.

According to Bohman, the marshmallow launchers were created for the kids in isolation on the oncology unit at The Children's Hospital as a means to relieve tension, while away the long hours in isolation, and have some fun in the midst of very difficult circumstances.

But it turned out that the Marshmallow Launcher serves a medical purpose. As a respiratory device, it helps a child strengthen lung capacity. Much more fun than pinwheels and bubbles. Bohman is even thinking about adding a flow meter to the launcher as a way to measure lung capacity progress. But for the kids, it's just pure fun.

In addition, when Bohman finds out another family in her area has a child who has been diagnosed with cancer, she sets up a booth to sell the launchers. The young and young-at-heart are drawn to the fun of the Marshmallow Launcher. It has been suggested that some adults use them for interoffice communications. If you would like a Marshmallow Launcher of your own, you can visit Kelsey's Kids website where you can purchase one. Bohman makes them in the basement of her home. The profits are donated to the hospital that helped her daughter fight against cancer and win.