Former televangelist Tammy Faye Messner -- formerly Tammy Faye Bakker -- posted Tuesday on her website (service is currently unavailable) a message about her health.

Messner, 65, reports that doctors have stopped treating her cancer -- she was diagnosed with colon cancer in 1996 and announced in 2004 the disease had spread to her lungs.

"I am down weight-wise to 65 pounds, and look like a scarecrow," the Charlotte resident shared on her site. "I need God's miracle to swallow. I look at young people and wish with all my heart for just one day of 'feeling great.'"

A new study of mice implanted with human breast cancer cells shows the spread of the disease to the lungs -- a common metastasis site -- is caused by the abnormal activation of four specific genes working together.

The study, published in the journal Nature, indicates that shutting off the genes one by one can slow the growth and spread of this cancer. But turning off all four at one time almost completely stops the process. In mice anyway.

These genes are no strangers to researchers who have known for some time about their existence and functions. They just know more about them now.

The four genes work together at every step of the metastatic process to allow a breast tumor to develop blood vessels, let tumor cells enter the vessel walls and lungs, and permit them to pass out of the lung vessels and resume growth. New analysis shows that blocking these genes significantly reduces the tangle of blood vessels, making it harder for cancer cells to escape.

Researchers, who say the four genes are among 18 they associate with breast cancer metastasis, report that one implication of this study is clear: combined use of drug therapy may be more effective at inhibiting the activity of multiple gene targets.

Today I offer you not so much a Thought for the Day but a Question for the Day. Before I ask my pressing question, though, I want you to consider this story.

Diagnosed with a rare malignant melanoma on her retina in 2001, Ann Guthrie, a South Carolina wife and mother of two grown sons, endured radiation and chemotherapy. The treatments shrunk Guthrie's tumor, but another mass appeared two years later, forcing the removal of her right eye.

At about the same time Guthrie lost her eye, cancer was discovered in her lungs. It was inoperable. Then cancer landed in her brain. And now, without any approved treatment avenues, Guthrie is out of options.

Like many people with terminal illnesses, this woman is willing to try just about anything -- a clinical trial, experimental drugs, risky treatments -- to extend her life. If she's going to die anyway, why not? She just might live longer. And if she doesn't, she could at least help advance science by offering herself up as a sort of guinea pig.

While the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has proposed changes that would make it easier for patients to access options like these, it's just not that simple right now.

There are ethical issues -- like weighing the needs of people who think anything is better than death against the need of society to prove drugs and treatments work safely. The only way to ensure a sort of balance is through clinical trials -- and letting anyone participate in clinical trials, for example, would make the results harder to interpret.

And there are medical and legal risks. What if terminally ill patients end up in worse shape after a treatment with an experimental drug, for example? What if the FDA or a physician is considered responsible for adverse drug reactions?

Denying terminal patients their last bits of hope is difficult. "It's a hard discussion to have with a patient and his family," says one doctor. "There's a lot of tears. We all would love to be able to get them access to some form of therapy."

And now for my question:

What do you think about terminally ill cancer patients and their access to anything that might extend -- or save -- their lives?

Secondhand smoke rears its ugly head once again -- this time in the form of study results revealing high levels of secondhand smoke in the workplace can double the risk of lung cancer for non-smokers.

Researchers at the University of Illinois at Chicago looked at results from 22 studies conducted in the United States, Canada, Europe, India, Japan, and China. What they found -- and published in the American Journal of Public Health -- is a lung cancer risk 50 percent higher than normal for non-smokers exposed to smoke on the job for more than 30 years. They also found risk increases with level of exposure.

"We believe that our study provides the strongest evidence to date that smoking in the workplace does present a substantial risk to workers -- and particularly to workers who are working in highly exposed areas such as bar workers or restaurant workers," lead researcher Leslie Stayner said.

Previous evidence for increased lung cancer risk caused by secondhand smoke comes from studies of non-smokers married to smokers.

Secondhand smoke -- also known as passive smoke and environmental tobacco smoke -- is smoke from a cigarette, pipe, or cigar as well as smoke exhaled from the lungs of smokers and inhaled by non-smokers. It can cause cancer, respiratory problems, and asthma in non-smokers and is leading to increased efforts by communities to ban or limit smoking in the workplace.

This week in France, bans begin in offices, stores, schools, and hospitals. Come January 2008, cafes and restaurants must also comply with bans. For now, smoking in these areas is permitted in hermetically sealed rooms without any services.

Radioactive cancer patients attending this weekend's Super Bowl in Miami could be in for an alarming experience when they pass through radiation detectors designed to signal the presence of dirty bombs. Such cancer patients -- who have received treatment using radioisotopes and still may have tiny amounts of radioactive material in their bodies -- may want to come armed with letters from their doctors explaining their precarious set of circumstances.

The use of radioisotopes in medicine is growing -- and so is the use of radiation detectors in our security-conscious nation, which means patients are triggering alarms when they are not even aware they are being scanned, doctors and security officials say.

Nearly 60,000 people a day in the United States undergo treatment or tests that leave traces of radioactive material in their bodies, according to the Society of Nuclear Medicine. These traces are not enough to hurt anyone, but they are enough to trigger radiation alarms for up to three months.

Radioisotopes are commonly used to diagnose and treat certain cancers and thyroid disorders, to analyze heart function, and to scan bones and lungs. And many doctors already know to equip their patients with travel cards because of the problems they can encounter in public places.

Nearly 20 million nuclear medical procedures were performed in the United States in 2005 -- up 15 percent from 2001. Clearly, the number of people who could be mistaken for terrorists is quite large. So if you are one of these people -- with the power to create a buzz in a public setting -- get your papers in order so you can quickly confirm your identity as nothing more than a cancer patient.

Little Layla Schilling is just two-and-a-half years old -- and for more than one year of her short life, she has been fighting a rare liver cancer that spread to her lungs. But a series of medical interventions has worked miracles -- and Layla now gets to leave the hospital and head for home, where a belated Christmas gift from Santa awaits her -- a trampoline.

When Layla's cancer was first discovered, doctors at Royal Children's Hospital in Australia immediately removed 80 percent of her liver to stop the tumor growth. Several months later, cancerous spots appeared again in her liver -- and in her lungs too.

Five months of intensive chemotherapy did its job -- and Layla's mom, Sara Wright, says her daughter is now doing well.

"The chemotherapy has successfully shrunk the tumors in her lung and what was left was removed by surgery," she said. "The tumor in her liver is under control, but the only way to be sure it doesn't come back is to have a transplant."

While a transplant is in Layla's future, she is focused right now on the moment. As every child should be.

Journalist, commentator, and cancer patient Leroy Sievers -- the guy we've written about before, the guy who has covered many wars and witnessed countless deaths, the guy who is now observing his own death as cancer in his lungs and spine chip away at his life -- has realized that getting good news takes some getting used to.

Sievers got some good news recently. He learned that the new combination of chemotherapy drugs he's been receiving has shrunk the tumors in his lungs. And scans show the tumor on his spine is healing. It's taken him days to truly understand this concept -- this concept of hope that has miraculously delivered him more time. He didn't expect it.

Sievers fully expected that he would soon be dead. That's why he's been savoring the cold, crisp fall days -- because he was not certain he would ever see such a season. He was sure he would never host another Halloween party either -- a party he canceled this year due to his health. But now, as he takes in this new sensation of hope, he considers the possibility he may be around for another party. And he thinks he'll dress up as a tumor. Halloween is one time when good taste is never important, he says.

Sievers, who offers a weekly personal health update for NPR, available in print or in podcast format on his blog, plans to keep living in the moment. He doesn't want to overdo this hope thing. So right now, he is simply enjoying the colorful leaves -- and the season he calls one of his favorites.

In July 2005, Amy Wilson was diagnosed with breast cancer. In the months that followed, Amy endured a lumpectomy, a mastectomy, reconstruction, and chemotherapy. In January 2006, Amy's treatment ended. And she set off on a journey of survivorship.

In August 2006, Amy found out her cancer had spread to her brain and lungs. Her doctors gave her two to 12 months to live. On Thursday, October 5, 2006, Amy died. She was 35 years old.

Amy became my friend shortly after her original diagnosis and eight months after my own breast cancer diagnosis. A mutual friend brought us together and for a little more than one year, we shared a rich connection, cemented in shared struggles and victories. Through phone conversations and e-mail exchanges and cards and gifts sent through the mail, Amy and I shared a special friendship. But I never looked Amy in the eye, never offered her a hug, never met her husband and children. I knew her only from a distance. Still, our partnership was powerful. It was comforting. And sadly, it is over.

Our same mutual friend called me Friday morning to tell me Amy had passed away -- a mere 15 months after her battle began, three months shy of the end-of-treatment anniversary she happily anticipated, five years from the age of 40 -- the age she had determined would mark her first true survivor milestone.

I miss Amy. I miss the pieces of hope that vanished with her death. I miss that I never met her, never hugged her, never said goodbye.

Amy, whose journey was chronicled in her local Ohio newspaper, is survived by her husband, her two children -- Luke, age five and Ella, age two -- and among others, her mother, who is currently fighting her own breast cancer battle.

Somehow, Amy -- my friend whose cancer has spread to her brain and lungs just five months after her initial treatment for breast cancer -- ended up comforting me today when we spoke about her shocking news. Somehow, Amy is the strong one -- convinced that she will live long after the year she was given to survive this cancer metastasis while I feel somewhat defeated. Somehow, Amy is approaching this ordeal with spunk and grace -- while I feel a bit deflated. Somehow, Amy is teaching me that attitude is everything. That there is still hope. That she can outlive the statistics and numbers that predict she will not fare well. Somehow, Amy is strengthening me through her difficult moments. Somehow, she is worrying about me -- the one not experiencing the blow of a cancer recurrence.

Somehow, Amy -- with more on her plate than any one person should have to manage -- has already established that she is a fighter. That she will fight for her life. That she will survive. Somehow, she makes me feel better.

Thank You For Smoking is a satirical movie featuring a cast of tobacco industry characters including a mass murderer, pimp, profiteer, and bloodsucker. The Ulster Foundation, UCF, a cancer charity, would like everyone to go see this movie when it comes to town.

According to Ulster Cancer Foundation's Gerry McElwee, ''For over 30 years UCF has been lobbying for stronger tobacco control measures and informing people about the dangers of smoking. This film shows, in a very clever way, how the tobacco industry deals in ill health and death and is expertly skilled in spin and double talk.

The film works so well because it uses dark comedy to highlight the reality of the tobacco industry – the importance of making money. I think it's fair to say that few smokers realize the multi-billion dollar industry their habit is feeding. I wish Thank You for Smoking had been made years ago because it highlights the lengths that tobacco companies will go to, to promote their products.''

I must confess I haven't seen the movie starring Sam Elliott, Katie Holmes, Rob Lowe, William H. Macy and Robert Duvall yet, but I did find Thank You For Smoking director Jason Reitman's blog, the Thank You For Smoking website with movie trailer, and the Thank You For Smoking blogroll & spin contests.

There is no major test or screening tool or exam that reveals the definite presence of cancer in the body. There are mammograms that can detect suspicious masses in the breast and there is a blood test that might raise concerns about the health of ovaries and there are various x-rays and scans that allow doctors to peek into the intricacies of the human body -- and some tests, like the mammogram clearly do save lives -- but some tests that seem harmless can damage the psyche while accomplishing little else.

I asked my oncologist how he would know if my breast cancer returns. He said I will receive regular mammograms and ultrasounds of my breasts. And he will perform in-office exams every few months. He will complete a breast exam and will feel my neck for enlarged lymph nodes. He will listen to my lungs and feel my stomach. But largely, he will rely on me to report symptoms and signs and complaints -- because these are the true indicators that something is amiss.

I imagined myself getting a whole host of tests on my whole body to rule out that cancer is invading every part of me. But this won't happen without reason -- because some tools, like imaging tests, may detect noncancerous abnormalities and false positives that lead to unnecessary psychological stress and tests -- and sometimes even surgery. So if I develop a persistent cough that can't be controlled, perhaps my oncologist will order a chest x-ray. If headaches begin to plague me and relief is not in sight, then perhaps a scan of my head will be in order. But as long as I feel well, the assumption is that I am well. It's better for my soul this way -- to live life without the constant worry that cancer will return. And it's a whole lot more cost effective too.

From the beginning, I was a fan of the music of Jamaican singer, guitarist, songwriter and activist Bob Marley. Once while playing a game of Trivial Pursuit with a group of brainiacs -- that I was sure I was going to lose -- I won because of Bob Marley. So, it was a sad day when the news came that Marley, only 36, had died of cancer. In 1977, Marley found a wound on his right toe. He thought it was a sports injury, but it was melanoma under the toe nail. He refused to have his toe amputated because of his Rastafarian beliefs that the body must be whole. In time, the cancer spread to Marley's brain, lungs, liver, and stomach. Marley finally did seek medical help, and went to Munich in order to receive treatment from cancer specialist Josef Issels, but the cancer had already progressed to the terminal stage. Marley lost his life to cancer in May 1981. He died without a will.

Recently, and over twenty years after Marley's death, Marley's bass player Aston Barrett, attempted to sue Island Records and the Marley family for 60 million pounds stating he did not receive royalties and songwriting credits. Last Monday the suit was dismissed. But not before Barrett had a chance to malign the late Marley as nothing more than someone good at playing sports -- not the music that gained him worldwide popularity.

"We always felt this would be the outcome, and it was hard to listen to Aston Barrett reduce his friend Bob to someone who was more interested in playing football than making music," the family said in a statement. Now, Barrett will be liable for court costs and forced to sell two properties in Jamaica as a result of the ruling. Greed will get you, one way or the other. I was happy to hear the ruling went the way it did.