"What one thing did you learn at Canyon Ranch?" my dad asked me the other day. We hadn't yet fully discussed my April trip to this Arizona health and healing destination and so he wanted to know what I had absorbed during my four days in the desert. I couldn't possibly name just one lesson I'd learned. But I could sum up all of my lessons in one broad category. This is what I told him: I learned how to change my lifestyle.

I learned how to change the way I live while at Canyon Ranch. I've since come to realize this is what most of us need to do to rid ourselves of our bad habits, our unhealthy ruts. There's nothing temporary about getting healthy. It's takes a lifetime commitment. I lacked commitment before Canyon Ranch. I have commitment now.

I'm committed to eating right, exercising, minimizing stress, processing my anxiety, focusing on family, prioritizing, and so much more -- all because of cancer and what I learned at Canyon Ranch.

When I read something powerful -- a quote, a story, a reflection -- I write it down or cut it out or make a copy of it and drop it into a file folder I've titled inspiration. This file, among others, has been on many a moving van and has traveled with me all over the East coast, from city to city, house to house. And every once in a while, when I need a lift, this is my go-to file -- I go to it, pluck something out, and refresh my mind and spirit.

This file has been with me since at least 1997 -- the date on a photo-copied Ann Landers column I have sitting before me. It's 10 years old, but there's nothing dated about the words printed on this single sheet of paper. They are as touching and moving and relevant now as they were when I first read them. They may be even more meaningful today, because of the thread of cancer that is now woven throughout my days.

These are life lessons, offered by a publisher of the Mount Pleasant News in Iowa, for students about to graduate from high school. They go like this:

Dear Graduates:

There is the kind of education you get in school and the kind you get afterward. Both are important. Put them together, and you have wisdom. The trouble is, life is generally half over before you figure out what is going on.

Graduating seniors can save 25 years of trial, error, and hard knocks by memorizing the lessons of life listed below.

On the average, you learn about one big lesson per year after you leave high school. In really tough years, you learn two or three. Some years, you don't learn anything. After 40, you forget things and have to learn them again.

Some of this information is borrowed. Some is stolen. Some may even be original, but that's doubtful. It's pretty hard to be original in a world as old as this one.

25 Things You'll Need To Know After High School

1. Don't sweat the small stuff, and remember, most stuff is small.
2. The most boring word in any language is "I."
3. Nobody is indispensable, especially you.
4. Life is full of surprises. Just say "never" and you'll see.
5. People are more important than things.
6. Persistence will get you almost anything eventually.
7. Nobody can make you happy. Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.
8. There's so much bad in the best of us and so much good in the worst of us that it doesn't behoove any of us to talk about the rest of us.
9. Live by what you trust, not by what you fear.
10. Character counts. Family matters.
11. Eating out with small children isn't worth it, even if someone else is paying.
12. If you wait to have kids until you can afford them, you probably never will.
13. Baby kittens don't begin to open their eyes for six weeks after birth. Men generally take 26 years.
14. The world would run a lot smoother if more men knew how to dance.
15. Television ruins more minds than drugs.
16. Sometimes there is more to gain in being wrong than right.
17. Life is so much simpler when you tell the truth.
18. People who do the world's real work don't usually wear neckties.
19. A good joke beats a pill for a lot of ailments.
20. There are no substitutes for fresh air, sunshine, and exercise.
21. A smile is the cheapest way to improve your looks, even if your teeth are crooked.
22. May you live life so there is standing room only at your funeral.
23. Mothers always know best, but sometimes fathers know too.
24. Forgive your friends and your enemies. You're all only human.
25. If you don't do anything else in life, love someone and let someone love you.

Chemo is tough stuff. That's what my oncologist told me the day I tracked her down on the phone and told her how awful I felt. I was weak, dizzy, pale, and as close to incoherent as I'd ever been. I was so out of sorts I was convinced I would jump out of my skin at the very moment this doctor implied all I needed was a firm grip on reality.

"Do you have enough support?" she asked. "Yep," I replied. I told her my mom lives right around the corner, my sister just a few miles away. I told her friends were delivering meals and my husband was coming home from work whenever I called for him. Help was just a phone call away, and I had plenty of it. What I didn't have was medical guidance about how my body was tolerating chemotherapy. That's why I needed her.

I hung up the phone that day having accomplished nothing. And I woke up the next morning barely able to walk. I crawled into my kitchen, grabbed a banana, sprawled out on the floor, inhaled some nutrition, and called my mom. I told her I needed to have my blood examined.

My mom transported me to my oncology clinic -- we had a genetic counseling appointment there anyway so it was convenient timing -- and before long, I was hand-delivered a mask and was swiftly escorted to my very own hospital room where I stayed for five days.

The day I was admitted to the hospital, my white blood counts were 700. My body was not tolerating chemotherapy. And I'll never know why my oncologist didn't know this, didn't call me in for an evaluation when so many signs were presenting themselves, didn't offer me more than her steadfast declaration that "chemo is tough stuff."

Yes, chemo is tough. And there are all sorts of expected side effects of the dreaded treatment that patients must endure. But there are many effects patients should not have to suck up, effects that warrant immediate medical attention and can be alleviated with the right intervention.

It took days of antibiotic treatment and a blood transfusion for my body to recover from its chemotherapy attack. I often wonder what would have happened had I toughed it out at home. I suspect the outcome could have been tragic.

If I ever have the occasion to preach about the dangers of chemotherapy, which is what I am doing here, I offer a firm warning about how difficult the treatments can be, how anyone with any string of worrisome side effects should seek medical help immediately, how any oncologist who doesn't respond to an outright cry for help should be fired.

I learned many lessons from my chemo crusade. I learned how to better help myself, and I learned to report right to the emergency room the second time my blood counts plummeted. I learned to demand the care I deserve, and I found an oncologist who is a warm and caring partner in my pursuit of health. And I learned that chemo is tougher than I ever imagined, too tough for some -- like me -- to go it alone.

I guess the concept is happy -- the public urging for our world's policy makers to make cancer a top priority -- but the fact that becomes all too apparent on this World Cancer Day is quite sobering. More than seven million people die from cancer and close to 11 million new cases are diagnosed worldwide each year. In 2006, cancer killed more people than AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis combined.

So today is both happy and sad. But for now, let's focus on the happy.

The Geneva-based International Union Against Cancer (UICC) and member organizations in 86 countries are launching a five-year campaign to impart life lessons to children so they can prevent cancer later in life. Parents are critical in this campaign and must take an active role in teaching their children techniques for saving their lives.

Forty-three percent of cancer cases can be prevented through healthy lifestyles that begin in childhood. The World Cancer Campaign slogan -- Today's Children, Tomorrow's World -- underscores the possibility that a concerted effort among world leaders, parents, and their children can make a real difference through four key actions -- providing a smoke-free environment for children; ensuring children keep physically active, eat a healthy diet, and avoid obesity; educating children about vaccines for virus-related liver and cervical cancers; and limiting children's exposure to the sun.

Former First Lady Barbara Bush, Her Royal Highness Lalla Slama of Morocco, Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo, and tennis star Steffi Graf are some of the powerful voices powering this campaign that UICC president Dr. Franco Cavalli says can save so many lives if embraced by those at the highest decision-making levels.

"Complacency and inaction on the part of world community will effectively contribute to more than 10 million deaths every year by 2020," he said.

Lance Armstrong has a commercial airing in which he stares into the camera and says, "Remember me cancer? You made me who I am today." Jane Younce, who writes a community column for The Noblesville Ledger, has shared some of the lessons she has learned as an ovarian cancer survivor.

As she reflects on the last year, and looks forward to the new one, Younce writes:

• I've learned in the last year that bald is beautiful and people love you with or without hair.
• I've learned that my illness brought out so many friends I didn't even know I had.
• I've learned that there are no "do-overs" in life, so you should make the most of every day.
• I've learned that my best friends don't have to say a word about my illness; they just have to be there and hold your hand through the tough times.
• I've learned that real love, not the stuff you see in movies or on soap operas, is my husband telling me I look beautiful while I am bald and vomiting.
• I've learned how to make a hospital gown glamorous.
• But the most important thing I learned in 2006, is that prayer changes everything!
• Remember me, cancer? My friends kicked your butt with prayer.
  

Losing all my hair from chemotherapy treatment did give me a new perspective to all the times I groused about having a bad hair day, and I gained the wisdom to realize beauty was never physical. I knew I was loved, but never as much or so much, as after my cancer diagnosis. Unfortunately, I never learned how to make a hospital gown look anything but unflattering. Prayer can indeed carry us through the darkest moments in life.

Cancer does change us, in ways we could not have anticipated or predicted ahead of time. Some times it reminds us what is important, other times it helps up to clarify the need to follow dreams we put aside for a better more opportune time. We realize there is no better time than now. If you are a cancer survivor, what would you add to the list of Remember me cancer? You made me who I am today.

I am wandering through the BC Cancer Foundation website to post on the upcoming Weekend to End Breast Cancer and I noticed The Underwear Affair annual fundraiser. Is it just me that has taken notice, but do some organizations just know how to make fundraising more fun than other organizations? You can ask people to donate money, but so many charities are asking for donations, and while each is a good cause, there is a certain burn-out factor and charity fatigue that can set in when people are constantly solicited for money. Why not offer an event that is unique and fun to participate in and age-related -- like The Underwear Affair, or a service in exchange for a donation like the college kids do in Odd Jobs Humanitarians?

The Underwear Affair was launched this year, and in the first year they raised over $500,000 for below the waist cancers -- that according to the organizers of this event state -- are the embarrassing to talk about cancers -- prostate, colorectal, ovarian, testicular, bladder, cervical, and uterine cancers. The Underwear Affair hosted a 10K Run/5K Walk, followed by live bands, DJs and a dance, pole dance lessons and the bedtime EXPOsed afterparty. A contest was held for the best underwear costumes at the party, drawings for two new Vespas and a trip for two to Honolulu, Hawaii.

What do you wear to The Underwear Affair 10K Run/5K Walk and EXPOsed afterparty? Well, you can wear whatever makes you comfortable -- which might be exercise clothing. But you are encouraged to have fun, and the event planners suggest anything from trashy lingerie to your favorite well-worn plaid robe. That's the point. The encouragement of fun in raising money for cancer research into cancers below the waist and using frivolity to destigmatize cancers that embarrass some people. Hats off to The Underwear Affair!

The Center for Caregiver Training is developing web based education courses for AIDS/HIV and cancer caregivers that offer practical skills to manage and cope with the responsibilities of being a caregiver. Caregiving 101 has three completed modules of lessons -- Learning About the Disease; Working with Your Medical Team; and Building a Personal Support Team.

To make the most of the time spent visiting with the doctor, one of the lessons in the Working with Your Medical Team module is How to Be Prepared for a Ten Minute Doctor's Visit.

Here are some of the tips included in the lesson:

• Always maintain an up-to-date medication list that includes all prescription and non-prescription items taken.
• Keep a journal of information that the doctor feels is important. This might be weight, temperature, blood pressure, blood sugar levels, and level of pain.
• Between visits, make a note of any unusual symptoms experienced in the journal. This might be night sweats, nausea, lack of appetite, insomnia, fatigue, confusion or anxiety.
• In the journal, jot down questions you might have for the doctor as you think of them.
• Bring the journal with you when you take your loved one to visit the doctor.
  

Other modules in development are Finding Help in the Community, Tools for Life as a Caregiver, Daily Care at Home, Managing Medications, Maintaining Nutrition, Managing Symptoms & Side Effects, Managing Pain and Coping With Mental Changes.

Caregivers are affected by cancer in their own unique and special ways. And those of us who have never been cancer caregivers and those of us who are patients receiving the care will never really know how it feels to walk in caregiver shoes -- until we do it ourselves.

Dr. Mitchell Luftig has done it himself. And after traveling a dark and unwanted journey of caring for his wife with breast cancer, he realized that he had learned a thing or two -- and he learned that he could share a thing or two. So he wrote a book, Be a Hero To The Woman You Love When She Gets Sick, and he speaks openly about his role as caregiver -- and his role at the time as father of twin high school daughters and husband of 20 years and clinical psychologist too. The whole ordeal turned his world upside down and he hopes that his story helps others -- primarily men -- who find themselves in a lonely place with the daunting job of caring for the people they love. As a psychologist, Luftig has good insight. And he wishes to help minimize the psychological barriers that prevent men from effectively caring for loved ones during times of serious illness.

Luftig shares in his book his realization that while he cannot repair and fix all hard times, he does have some important tools. And his power tools are love, support, and understanding. He has learned to sew joy out of rough cloth. He understands that he cannot shelter his family members from bad times, but he can shoulder their burden. And he now appreciates that all things are not so bad when measured against the yardstick of a life-threatening disease like cancer. Luftig's whole collection of wisdom and lessons and advice fill his book -- and bits and pieces also appear in periodic articles in Coping magazine. It's worth the read -- and the journey starts here.

One of the first books I read after my breast cancer diagnosis was issued in hardback in 1986 -- 20 years ago -- and then was published again and reissued and reprinted in 1990, 1998, and 2002.While the cover has changed and perhaps some wording too, the message in this book -- Love, Medicine, & Miracles by Bernie S. Siegel, M.D. -- remains unchanged.  And it is inside the covers of this book that I keep learning that I have the capacity and power to become an exceptional patient -- despite the fact that I've been faced with a life-shattering diagnosis of cancer.

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.

When Amy Turner Tunick, an actress and writer who wrote The Feel Good Column for the South Florida Sun-Times, was first diagnosed with cancer she wrote:

"It doesn't seem real. There were no signs or symptoms. Maybe it's a genetic thing. But will I ever really know? I've been a very healthy active 44 year-old woman. I don't drink or smoke.  But, sometimes, unfortunate things do happen to good people. And I don't doubt I'm a good person. Actually, I believe I'm an exceptional person. I'm positive, optimistic, inspiring and enthusiastic. I try to be caring, loving and honest. So, sadly, I'm not blaming anyone, including God, that I've just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer." 

Tunick did not exaggerate when she described herself as a positive, optimistic, inspiring and enthusiastic person. Her columns reflected that, and she had a way of inspiring the reader to feel optimistic about life. She had a way of reminding you of the simple joys of life and the importance of the people in your life. In one of her last columns, she wrote, ''Cry, scream, feel sorry for yourself -- but not for long. Basically, this is all about hope. Never lose it. Never give in or give up.''

Tunick had this to say about death, "I believe that Death teaches us that the time is now. The time is now to pick up a telephone and call the person that you love. Death teaches us the joy of the moment. It teaches us we don't have forever. If teaches us that nothing is permanent. It teaches us to let go, there's nothing you can hang on to. And it tells us to give up on expectations and let tomorrow tell its own story, because nobody knows if they'll get home tonight."

Tunick won't be getting home tonight. She lost her battle to cancer and the world lost more of its light. Tunick was 47.