The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

I'm sick of talking about this sickness of mine. But there's one more thing I need to say in regards to how it's disrupted my life -- and how one person has helped me pick up the pieces I've left scattered around as a result.

The one more thing: Sickness always throws me for a loop. I'm an organized, planned, on-the-ball sort of person and I don't like how sickness takes me out of the game. I'm not good at sitting around, resting, putting my feet up for extended periods of time. I hate how life passes me by and my responsibilities begin to stack up. I try my best to stay on top of everything but all it really does is keep me sick. It seems the more I try to do, the longer it takes for my body to heal.

The best cancer treatment centers are not always right around the corner. Sometimes, it's necessary to travel far and wide to reach facilities offering the latest and greatest in cancer therapy. And when a back-and-forth commute is not possible due to daily or long-term treatment protocols, lodging becomes a necessity. And often, a hassle.

If you find yourself confronted with a stressful travel scenario, key into Joe's House. It's sure to ease your burden.

Think about this:

Joe's House is a non-profit organization that serves hospital staff and cancer patients in search of lodging. Founded in 2003 by Ann Calahan who for six years struggled to find appropriate accommodations during her late husband's cancer battle, Joe's House makes life a little easier for those fighting cancer on the road.

Joe's House features a centralized listing of lodging information for patients to access online or with a simple phone call (877-563-7468). For online searches, a drop-down menu allows patients, loved ones, and caregivers to locate lodging by selecting states, cities, and treatment facilities. Details on each lodging facility are available with information on amenities, rates, and reservation methods, and requirements.

I just gave this system a whirl. I chose Florida as my state, Gainesville as my city, and the hospital where I receive my treatment. Up popped four lodging locations -- two are free for cancer patients, one runs $10 per night, and the other charges $77 per night. Fortunately, I live right around the corner from my treatment center. But for those who don't, this service -- it's free -- is definitely worth trying.

His name is not really Brian -- that's just the character actor Barry Watson plays on the ABC TV show What About Brian that just ended its season on March 26.

I really like this show. The network calls it a contemporary, heartwarming ensemble drama that continues to tell the stories of a group of close-knit friends in various stages of romantic relationships and friendships living in Los Angeles.

This is exactly why I like it. But there's an underlying story not written into the script that has compelled me to watch -- and truly enjoy -- this show.

Barry Watson, best known for his role as Matt Camden on the long-running WB series 7th Heaven, is surviving cancer. Diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma in May 2002, he received treatment and reported in April 2003 that he was in remission. And he's been working hard ever since.

Watson is not only an actor. He is a husband -- his wife is Tracy Hutson of ABC's Extreme Makeover: Home Edition -- and he is a father. But most important in my book, Watson is a cancer survivor. And more than anything, this is what inspires me every time I watch What About Brian.

Wyeth officials say their hormone replacement therapy Prempro is not the cause of one Ohio woman's breast cancer. But two jury decisions prove otherwise.

The first jury, in October, awarded Jennie Nelson and her husband $1.5 million in compensatory damages, validating Nelson's claim that her breast cancer -- resulting in a double mastectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation -- was caused by the Prempro she took for six years. When this verdict was thrown out due to a mistrial, a retrial began.

The retrial concluded yesterday -- with a Philadelphia jury awarding the Nelsons this time with $3 million.

"Both times this case has been heard on terms established by Wyeth and still the juries have clearly found that Prempro causes breast cancer," says Nelson's attorney Tobias Millrood, adding that Wyeth puts sales ahead of patient safety.

Wyeth respectfully disagrees and argues that it acted responsibly in the promotion of its hormone replacement products and in disclosing with doctors and patients all therapy-associated health risks.

Millions of women have used Wyeth's hormone replacement therapies to control the effects of menopause, and the company, sanctioned in January to pay $1 million to an Arkansas breast cancer survivor, now faces more than 5,000 lawsuits of this same nature.

Despite a large-scale study revealing drugs like Prempro increase the risk of breast cancer if used for five years or more, the drug still remains on the market. And Wyeth is so sure their drug is not at fault for causing Nelson's breast cancer that they plan to appeal yesterday's verdict.

Luanne Austin says chemotherapy is not all it's cracked up to be. She doesn't mean it's cracked up to be something really great but is far from such a thing. She means it's cracked up to be something pretty horrible but is really not all that bad.

Austin says the day her doctor announced she would receive chemotherapy was almost as bad as the day she learned she had breast cancer. That's because she had heard nothing but bad things about the treatment. She expected to be laying in bed with her life in the balance -- nauseated, vomiting, sick -- as the "cure" killed her.

All expectations aside, Austin decided to tackle chemotherapy with a positive attitude. This may seem a daunting task -- turning a dreaded chemotherapy protocol into a not-so-bad experience -- but Austin mastered the task. And here are seven of her positive thoughts about a treatment that is not all it's cracked up to be.

• Austin talked to people who had traveled journeys similar to hers. What she learned is that many women continued working through treatment. Some suffered very few side effects. One woman even told Austin her experience was super. Austin was inspired by the positive women she tracked down. And now she inspires others.
  

• Austin did some reading. She learned that chemotherapy drugs target quickly-dividing cells, like cancer cells, red and white blood cells, blood platelets, and digestive tract cells. Learning about the process helped her realize chemotherapy was intended to make her well, not make her suffer.

• Austin learned how to support her body through treatment. She came to understand that the best chance of surviving breast cancer comes from conventional medicine -- surgery, chemotherapy, radiation -- but that alternative treatments can complement the traditional approach. She recommends the book Breast Cancer: Beyond Convention and considers her pursuit of a healthy diet, exercise, supplements, and a good night's sleep some of her most helpful chemotherapy add-ons.

• When Austin felt weak, tired, and just plain zoned out, she retreated to her bed with a good book and a cup of tea. Instead of considering it a setback, she called this downtime a good excuse to spend hours reading.

• Austin found relief from her nurses. They were terrific, she recalls, and professional and friendly and respectful too. Getting to know her medical crew -- and receiving hugs from them at the end of her treatment -- confirmed chemotherapy has some good points.

• For Austin, God -- who carried her through her whole journey -- was instrumental in her positive outlook. She felt lifted up and carried, she says.

• And then there's love -- pure and simple love from her husband and family members -- that allows her to conclude that chemotherapy is not so bad. "I'd have to say chemotherapy hasn't been all that bad," she says. "Not bad at all."
  

I never tire of cherishing the moment. Sometimes I get busy and distracted and caught up in the hustle and bustle of life, but I always come back to the simple appreciation of time. There's no stopping it -- time -- and there's no telling how my days will unfold as the seconds and minutes and hours tick by, so I try to live in the present with every breath I take.

Cancer taught me this lesson -- this realization that time is not a guarantee, this deep-down feeling that I must soak up every experience that faces me.

Each night when my husband and I check on our sleeping boys, we sigh with amazement and one of us religiously says something like, Wow, they are so great. We never want to lose sight of the joy these sometimes-challenging little people share with us. And so we watch them in their most peaceful moments, while emotion fills our heads and hearts.

My husband has lost sight of his father -- literally. He died eight years ago today and while John can no longer see the man who passed away suddenly, without warning, and at a much-too-young age, his memories are still vivid. It's the simple things he didn't let slip by that are fresh in his mind today.

John wrote this essay for his mom and two brothers and sent it to them today, in honor of his dad whose life he hopes will never escape him.

And then there were four

I think about him just about every day. Most often it's a song that reminds me of Dad, such as Cats in the Cradle, or even one of his favorite TV shows, Quantum Leap. I was shopping in Publix the other day while a great mix of music played -- a song from Three Degree's came on, When Will I See You Again, and I stood there with a thousand-mile stare on my face as I thought of Dad. I work in a building that looks right across the street from the last residence hall I lived in, Yulee Hall -- the last dorm from which Dad muscled all my belongings. I see that building every day.

The passing of time doesn't fade the memories I have of him, the distance between the last one just increases. Just about this time eight years ago, I laid across Dad's chest well after he took is last breath. That memory is forever burned into my mind along side the memory I have of walking past Kristin's room that fateful day many years ago. Before that day there were six of us, then there were five, and now there are four. Every force of nature cannot stop that number from reaching zero, so I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you all that I love you and think about you every day. Although death may be the worst gift of life, the gift of our kids will keep our numbers growing. It's unfortunate he didn't get to meet any of our kids and they didn't get to meet him -- but in a way they do. There is no doubt I share some of his qualities and those (hopefully only the good ones) affect the way I parent, the way I work, and the way I love.

I miss you, Dad.

Love, JP

However unintentional she says it has all been when it comes to the sultry and seductive persona that oozes sexuality through the television screen during her cooking shows, How to be a Domestic Goddess author Nigella Lawson has made a career out of making food sexy and the act of food consumption sensual. It is part of her not-always-so-subtle coy kitchen charm.

But if we believe her life to be as silky smooth and decadent as warm cream flowing over a morning bowl of juicy plump strawberries, and equally as charmed as she is charming, we would be mistaken. Yes, she is remarried to multi-millionaire, ad man and art dealer Charles Saatchi, but she is also the widow of journalist and writer John Diamond, who died of tongue cancer five years ago, leaving her suddenly mother and father to their two children, Cosima and Bruno.

A decade earlier, Lawson's mother had died of liver cancer. Her sister Thomasina died in her 30s of breast cancer. Cancer changes people. It is unavoidable, and the change can take many forms. For Nigella, who in the public eye has taken criticism for her ample figure and lack of concern for the fat content of food, has an almost unreasonable fear about thinness. After watching three family members waste away and die from cancer, she sees thin as a sign of illness.

"So even though I mind it when I put on weight I have a visual memory of seeing those people become skin and bone, and that gives me a slight reality check," explains Lawson. In watching her cooking show Nigella Bites, she came through as warm, down-to-earth, without a care for pretentious protocol or rules for the sake of rules. It is the way she cooks, and I get the feeling it is the way she lives. Cancer changes every person it touches and shapes perspectives about what is truly important in life. Being comfortable and enjoying yourself, including the food you eat, is a good recipe for life. A recipe Nigella seems to dish up with ease.

Nigella Lawson is Food Network's newest host in Nigella Feasts. On January 7, the theme of the show will be Feel Good Food featuring Smoked Salmon, Avocado and Pumpkin Seed Salad, a Vietnamese Prawn and Glass Noodle Salad, a colorful Antioxidant Fruit Salad, and a Syllabubbed Yogurt. Yum.

Rock legend Black Sabbath Ozzy Osbourne spoke about his wife Sharon's colon cancer diagnosis during a recent interview with Hello! magazine, in which he is quoted as saying, "When I found out it was like someone had got a slab of concrete and hit me with a big dose of reality. I thought cancer plus patient equals death. The thought of losing her was more than I could bear."

In 2002, the entire Osbourne family appeared in a MTV reality show The Osbournes. During the taping, Sharon was diagnosed with colon cancer. Rather than cancel the show, she agreed to share the experience of chemotherapy and cancer survivorship with the viewers to help raise awareness for cancer.

Osbourne said that while he is always happy for the professional success his wife enjoys with such shows as the U.K. talent show X Factor and The Sharon Osbourne Show, he misses the time away from her.

Ozzy has designed a limited-edition signature series t-shirt for the Hard Rock Cafe, with profits from the sale of the t-shirts to benefit the Sharon Osbourne Colon Cancer Program. The cancer charity offers colonoscopies and screenings to people without medical insurance, as well as those with minimal coverage, transportation to chemotherapy for patients and nursing consultation to those in need of assistance with their aftercare.

Now a four-year colon cancer survivor, Sharon's life philosophy is simple: "live everyday to the fullest, and don't save for tomorrow what you can do today." Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne are featured on the cover of the February 2007 issue of Hello! magazine.

Human touch with someone you trust and share a strong bond can bring immediate relief from stress, according to University of Virginia neuroscientist Dr. James A. Coan. The findings are based on the study of magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) brain scans that measured the participant's response to a threatening situation when they were either holding the hand of a spouse, the hand of a stranger, or when they were alone.

"This is the first study of the neurological reactions to human touch in a threatening situation, and the first study to measure how the brain facilitates the health-enhancing properties of close social relationships," stated Dr. Coan.

For this study, the participants were women who expressed a high degree of satisfaction in the relationship with their husband. Holding their husband's hand while experiencing a threatening situation prompted the most dramatic decrease in stress level as reflected by the readings of a brain scan.

Based on previous studies that indicate beloved pets have the affect of lowering blood pressure and reducing stress for their owners, it seems logical that this current research finding will extend to include the close trusted bonds we share with both humans and pets. Anecdotal evidence has suggested that touch facilitates the healing process. This research offers scientific evidence that touch calms during times of stress and adds support to popular belief -- touch has the power to promote better health.

I spend 10.5 hours every weekday on my own with some combination of my two little boys. My day starts each morning and extends through meals and playtime and laughs and tears and fights and struggles and snuggles -- but never a nap -- and even a part-time preschool job where one or two boys always tag along. Sometimes I try to write during the day while my boys are happy and occupied. Typically, I don't accomplish much. Interruptions are endless -- as they should be for a mostly stay-at-home mom who chooses to devote her daytime hours to raising children.

And so I go it alone until dinner time when my husband returns from work and selflessly takes over and sets me free. He cooks, serves, and cleans up dinner. He plays and entertains and wrestles and heads up bath and book time. And then he transports each boy on his back to their respective beds.

During my moments of freedom each evening, I lose myself in my thoughts -- and I begin to write. I love my mommy job -- and wouldn't trade it for any other full-time job -- but I also love being alone. And I love writing.

Helen Keller said, "I must have something besides husband and children, something I can devote myself to! I want to go on living even after my death! And therefore, I am grateful to God for giving me this gift, this possibility of developing myself, and of writing, of expressing all that is within me."

Writing -- mostly about cancer -- helps me develop my surviving self. It helps me express all that is within me. And maybe it's fitting that I don't get too much time to dwell on the disease that consumed me for two years. If I had to choose between two busy boys and a life busy with cancer, I'd take two boys in an instant. At the end of the day, a little bit of writing about a little of cancer suits me just fine.

Ronnie Lippin, long-time publicist and manager who helped shape the careers of rock stars Eric Clapton, Brian Wilson, and Prince, died Monday from a rare form of breast cancer. She was 59 years old.

Lippin began her career in the New York film and stage industry and migrated to music when she moved to Los Angeles with her husband, Dick Lippin. She worked for MCA Records, with Elton John's Rocket Records, and with RSO Records -- home of the Bee Gees and the Grease and Saturday Night Fever soundtracks -- where she became a top publicist. In 1989, she joined the marketing and public relations Lippin Group, founded by her husband. At the time of her death, she was president of the Lippin Group.

Lippin is survived by her husband and a daughter, who also works for the Lippin Group.

Journalist Lynn Sherr is grieving the husband she lost to lymphoma in 1992. It's taken her many years to fully appreciate how his death affects her and while she once felt pressure from well-intentioned, clueless friends who urged her to move on, Sherr is now completely peaceful about her on-going, long-term grieving process. In fact, she fully plans on grieving -- for the man whose ashes still sit in her lingerie drawer -- for the rest of her life.

Sherr writes in her new memoir, Outside the Box, that it was during an interview with a pioneering psychiatrist about the agony of loss when she made her stunning revelation about grief. It's when she realized she would never fully recover from grief, that it is just fine to never fully recover.

Grieving individuals do not always follow the standard stages of denial, anger, and acceptance. Yet they often feel forced into these boxes by medical professionals, family, and friends who try to move them along and consider them abnormal if they don't get on with life in a set amount of time. But each person's pattern of grief is as unique as each person's pattern of love -- and stages and boxes just don't work. Sherr's breakthrough moment came at the exact moment she learned this.

"Bingo! I didn't have to follow anyone's pattern," she writes. "I didn't have to stop being sad. Not only was sadness okay, it was necessary. Nobody can tell you how to mourn. And it's not self-indulgent; it's not wallowing; it's hanging on to something important. We should not avoid bereavement. We should embrace it, welcoming our moments of sorrow as a time to reconnect with the person we've lost."

Sherr reconnects with her husband every chance she gets. He was her best friend, her deepest love, her soul mate, her pal. And she doesn't plan to move on -- ever -- from the sadness that keeps them connected.

A few days ago, notification of an e-mail arrived in my inbox. It popped up right in front of me, with the sender's name -- Amy Wilson -- glaring in black print right before my eyes. Amy is my friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer just after my own diagnosis. We e-mailed frequently about our cancer hopes and fears and so it was never before odd that a message would travel from her computer in Ohio to mine in Florida. But on the day this one e-mail arrived, it was odd -- because Amy died two weeks ago, after a 15-month battle with the disease we both vowed to conquer.

The e-mail was not from Amy. It was from her husband, Paul. And it was as comforting to hear from him as it was odd to see Amy's name flash in front of me. You see, I have wanted to call Paul, e-mail Paul, send a card to Paul -- something. I have wanted to reach out in some way, even though I have never met the man who thought he would spend the rest of his life raising his two children with Amy. But I never could figure out what I would write or say or send. I have been afraid that it would be hard for him to talk about Amy's death. I've been afraid that it would be hard for me to talk about her death. So I have waited, hoping the passage of time would help prepare me for some sort of action. And in the end, time was not necessary. Because Paul reached out to me. And this is what he wrote in the e-mail he sent from Amy's mailbox.


And now I can contact Paul, because he has opened the door. He -- the one suffering the greatest loss -- has comforted me. And now I need to thank him.

Cynthia Yousefi is a wife and mother of three living in Granada Hills, CA. She is 42 years old and works as an analyst for a Federal agency. She and her family enjoy trips to Harrah's Rincon Casino in San Diego -- and while the destination is a favorite, the sights along the way also bring them pleasure. Cynthia enjoys museums and amusement parks and swimming and evening walks. She enjoys a lot these days because she feels she's been given a second chance at life -- now that she is surviving breast cancer.