David L. Katz, MD, responds to a reader in the September 2007 issue of The Oprah Magazine about the merits of eating soy in relation to preventing cancer. His response causes me to pause even more about jumping on any diet bandwagon.

Katz says we should eat soy foods -- just not too much because the evidence linking soy to breast cancer, for example, is mixed.

In comparing soy-eating Japanese women with American women who eat very little soy, researchers find lower rates of breast cancer in the Japanese women. But in a test tube, soy's plant estrogens can speed cancer cell growth. Maybe soy behaves differently in the body than it does in a tube. Or maybe soy has both negative and positive effects on breast cancer. Perhaps it's not soy at all. It could be that the populations eating soy are benefiting from not eating something else, like meat -- the saturated fat found in red meat has been linked to higher cancer rates. Replacing steak with something else may be the protective key.

As time flies by, more and more progress is made in the fight against cancer. Over the years, new and better screening methods have emerged, cutting-edge technologies have surfaced, successful treatments have saved lives that may have otherwise been lost, and awareness has been raised about all sorts of cancer-related issues. It's amazing really, because in so many areas, we are not making progress.

According to research published in the March/April 2007 issue of WebMD: the Magazine, the per capita consumption of corn sweeteners in 2004 was 78.1 pounds in the United States -- up from 35.3 pounds in 1980. In 2005, the per capita consumption of candy by Americans was 25.7 pounds. We are pumping our bodies full of junk -- our rates of obesity in this country prove it.

When I think about our trend of over-eating and over-indulging, I gain a better appreciation of how far we've come medically. Not only have researchers, scientists, and medical experts made strides in the prevention and treatment of disease, they've done it against the odds. Just think how much more progress we'd make if we all did a little better at living healthy lives. Why not start now?

Did you know the number one symptom of lung cancer is a persistent cough? Other symptoms include bouts of wheezing, shortness of breath, trouble swallowing, blood-streaked sputum, and a hoarse voice.

Did you know 28 percent of all cancer deaths are due to lung cancer and that it's the number one killer among both men and women?

Did you know that Hookahs -- used to inhale tobacco through a water pipe -- let in the same cancer-causing substances as cigarettes and are just as harmful as smoking, despite the fact that many people believe they are safer?

Now you know.

Source: WebMD: the Magazine, March/April 2007

She's the guru on breast cancer, the woman who writes the continually updated breast cancer bible. She's Dr. Susan Love, author of Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book, and in the May/June 2007 issue of MAMM magazine, she shares some of her latest thoughts.

On milk ducts

Dr. Love says all breast cancer begins in the milk ducts. If we want to get rid of breast cancer, she says, we need to understand where it starts. Until recently, we weren't able to do that. Now, doctors can numb the nipple, thread a catheter into a milk duct and sample the fluid, cells, carcinogens, and hormones. By looking at the location where cancer develops, there's the potential to find out how it started and how to prevent it. In March, Dr. Love's Research Foundation sponsored a conference on this topic.

On MRI

Dr. Love is not a big fan of MRI. It's overly sensitive and finds everything -- most of which is not cancer, she says. MRI leads women on wild goose chases so Dr. Love likes to reserve this test for women at high-risk.

I've been thinking a lot about this quote, offered by Robert A. Emmons, Ph.D and author of Thanks! How the New Science of Gratitude Can Make You Happier:

"individuals who approach life with an attitude that all of life is a gift will be more likely to find the good in bad life circumstances. They are more likely to move forward following a catastrophe. In fact, they may be more likely to label such an event a gift."

Ever since I read these words in the August 2007 issue of The Oprah Magazine, I've been contemplating the value of finding something good in every bad life scenario. It's what I've done with cancer. I've convinced myself my disease was merely a bump in the road. Only a bump, though. I choose to focus on the joy, not the despair, that came with my cancer encounter.

This is exactly what I tried to convey in this post. And this one too.

Advertising executive and author Lois Wyse died Friday at her Manhattan home of stomach cancer. She was 80.

Perhaps best known for her famous slogan, With a name like Smucker's, it has to be good, Wyse -- who founded Wyse Advertising with her first husband Marc and went on to win the J.M. Smucker Company account -- was also the brains behind this name: Bed, Bath & Beyond. The small retail chain began as Bed and Bath. Wyse thought it would fare better with a more complete name.

Wyse was a powerful woman in business. Her company was chosen to create the first television advertising campaign for New Woman magazine. She was was the first woman on the board of the Consolidated Natural Gas Company and the Higbee Company, and she was a founding member of both the Committee of 200, a group of women with executive jobs, and of Catalyst, a women's research organization.

When I describe the cancerous lump I found in my breast almost three Novembers ago, I explain that it felt like a hard, frozen green pea. The port used for chemotherapy infusions and sewn under the skin near my collarbone? It looked like a bottle cap popping up for all to see. My kids called it a stone. I had to numb my skin prior to treatments -- the needle inserted into the center of the port was just too big and painful. I slathered on my numbing lotion prior to each dose of drugs. Imagine the size of a quarter. I used twice this much. I was wimpy.

There's something about visual descriptions that help us remember some of the more important things in life. Here's a good one:

According to Jeffrey Dover, MD and associate clinical professor of dermatology at Yale School of Medicine, we must not skimp when we apply sunscreen. How do we know if we are cutting ourselves short? We should be using a shot-glass full of sun protection to cover our bodies. Anything less is not enough.

I just read this in the latest issue of The Oprah Magazine (July 2007):

"I have come to believe . . . that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal, and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood." - Audre Lorde

If I could have said this beautiful sentiment on my own, I would have. But I didn't, so I'll borrow it and profess that this is exactly how I feel.

I've said it before. Every time I go running I feel like I'm crushing cancer with each and every step I pound onto the pavement. It's exhilarating, knowing I'm doing something good for my body and my soul, knowing every day I run is one more day I've survived a nasty disease. Apparently, others agree.

Think about this:

A new Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure magazine advertisement features a close-up shot of the bottom of a running shoe. Woven into the tread on the bottom of the shoe are these words:

Every step resounds with the satisfying crunch of breast cancer being stomped into oblivion.

This is exactly how I feel.

If eating junk food and watching television lead to obesity, a sedentary lifestyle, and a road marked by diminished health and increased illness, then kids living in Britain are about to get a whole lot healthier.

Think about this:

According to the March 19, 2007 issue of TIME magazine, British broadcasting regulator Ofcom will phase out all commercials on children's programming that promote junk food containing high fat, sugar, and salt.

The ban will begin at the end of the year.

This week, CBS News, the Washington Post, NY Times and USA Today shed a glaring light on people living with cancer. And Newsweek put the Livestrong wristband on its cover.

Pick up the April 9, 2007 issue of Newsweek to read the story How I live with Cancer.

Jonathan took the call on his cell phone at the Starbucks in New York's Penn Station...It was from a doctor I barely knew telling me that a CT scan-ordered after three weeks of worsening stomach pain-showed a large mass in my abdomen, with what she said was "considerable lymph node involvement." I rubbed my eyes and sensed the truth instantly: cancer, and not one that had been detected early. I was 46 years old and had not spent a night in the hospital since I was born. Nonsmoker. No junk food beyond the occasional barbecue potato chips. Jogged a couple of times a week. I was not remotely ready for this.

Later on in the article Johnathan tells his readers:

I have cancer, it's going to be bad, but I'll live until I'm 90. Probably not, but I turn 50 this year and, full of hope, recall that great line from "The Shawshank Redemption": "You can get busy living, or get busy dying." For me, it's no contest.

Time to test your smarts -- about sleep, sun, food, and alcohol.

Just read the following questions, pick an option and then scroll down to determine if you really know what's best for your health.

• Is it healthier to sleep an extra hour or force yourself out of bed in the morning to exercise?

• Is it healthier to spend 15 minutes in the sun without sunscreen or two hours in the sun wearing SPF 30?

• Is it better to have a second glass of wine at dinner or a sinful dessert?

If you are trying to ward off cancer by making a change in your smoking habits, cutting back isn't enough. Cutting out cigarettes altogether is the only way to really protect your health.

Think about this tidbit I found in the March 2007 issue of Woman's Day Magazine.

A 20-year-study of more than 50,000 people in Norway recently revealed that patients who smoked fewer cigarettes -- even those who cut back by half -- were just as likely as heavy smokers to suffer from early death due to cardiovascular disease, cancer, and other tobacco-related problems.

I'm in another hospital lobby -- this time waiting while my three-year-old son has surgery to repair a hernia.

So I'm back to reading a magazine. This time I brought my own not-so-outdated publication -- The Oprah Magazine, April 2007. And as I sit here flipping and turning the pages, there is so much I want to tell you.

I'll be back with more. But for now, think about this:

"...see how the flesh grows back
across a wound, with a great vehemence,
more strong
than the simple, untested surface before.
There's a name for it on horses,
when it comes back darker and raised: proud flesh.
as all flesh
is proud of its wounds, wears them
as honors given out after battle,
small triumphs pinned to the chest."

Jane Hirshfield, From What Binds Us

I have a few small triumphs pinned to my chest -- they show in the form of surgery scars and radiation tattoos and puckered skin where a port once lived. Proud flesh. Stronger than the once untested surface. My honors for having survived a battle.

She doesn't have breast cancer. But she did have both breasts removed and reconstructed in January to ensure as much as she can that she will never develop the disease that has struck both her mother and father.

It's the dad connection that puts René Syler, former anchorwoman for The Early Show, at such risk for breast cancer. That and the dozens of microcalcifications -- these can indicate cancer -- that repeatedly revealed themselves on mammograms and the diagnosis of atypical ductal hyperplasia that increases the risk of cancer. And while cancer was never diagnosed for this woman who was sure the disease would one day catch up with her, Syler is no stranger to the world of biopsies. And her breasts -- misshapen, shriveled, collapsed, and scarred from so many surgical procedures -- were proof of her frequent rides on the breast cancer merry-go-round.

Now Syler's breasts are gone. And she is breathing a great big sigh of relief. She calls her new "girls" incredible. And she calls her new mood "good."

"I see now that the specter of breast cancer has been permeating my life," says Syler whose story appears in the April 2007 issue of The Oprah Magazine and whose book Good-Enough Mother will be published in April.

"I couldn't really live because I was always playing defense -- watching and waiting, wondering if this would be the year I'd be diagnosed."