John Ondrasik, the man and musician behind the band Five for Fighting, has released a new album and a new website that just happens to benefit the Breast Cancer 3-Day, a 3-day, 60-mile walk sponsored by Susan G. Komen For the Cure.Think about this:
Ondrasik's new album, "Two Lights," features a song called "World" which is in heavy rotation on pop radio stations across the country. This single is the inspiration for Ondrasik's new website, What Kind of World Do You Want -- the first video community that gives back by allowing visitors a chance to make a difference.
This is how it works: reveal what kind of world you want and help raise money for charity by watching videos or creating and uploading a video of yourself, your friends, or your family. In your video, answer the question What Kind of World Do You Want? and then choose which charity you wish to help fund.
In addition to the Breast Cancer 3-Day, selected charities include the Fisher House, Save the Children, Autism Speaks, VH1 Save the Music Foundation, and NY Police and Fire Widows & Children. Video clips describing each charity, a message from Ondrasik, and a video of the song "World," are all featured on the site.


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.
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.
I sometimes complain about the lack of warmth I've encountered from medical professionals throughout my journey with breast cancer. There have been glimpses of compassion. And there are a few who stand out as truly caring and concerned. But there seems to be a general lack of sensitivity. Maybe it's a side effect of the job -- distance -- that I should have been prepared for. But instead I was shocked by how I often felt forgotten, like a number, just one of many in my same boat. And this makes me sad -- for me and for all the others who sail rough waters in search of health. I have waited in lobbies for hours -- four hours one time -- and I've been encouraged to toughen up. I've rarely felt comforted -- except by a few who have hugged me or placed a hand on my shoulder. That's all it takes. A simple gesture or kind word. 







