One man. One cancer diagnosis. One feature-length film. About how 17,000 men gain membership every month in a group this one man calls, The Men's Club.

The man is Rocky Galgano. He is 58 years old. He is a retired police officer. And he happens to be a member of the very club he features in his film -- a club full of men living with prostate cancer.

Galgano created his documentary as a companion to all the densely-written books and resources he found filled to the brim with medical jargon about a disease that will strike 218,890 and kill 27,050 men this year alone.

Men are reluctant to talk about prostate cancer or get tested for the disease, says Galgano. And yet this form of cancer can be cured if caught early. So Galgano stepped to the plate and started talking. He talks about his personal experience, and he talks about different types of treatment. He has nine different doctors talk. He has cancer survivors talk. And he says he wants as many people as possible to see this film.

Galgano is working on distribution and says he's close to a deal with Amazon.com. He also plans to market the not-yet-rated film to urologists across the country, and he will soon sell his masterpiece -- a trailer can be seen here -- on his website for $19.95.

This e-mail just arrived in my inbox. It's one of those chain things -- you know, the read this and forward it to 11 people or all your plumbing will blow up messages. And while I don't tend to pass on to friends and family these types of scare tactics, I realize that the words that follow are definitely worth a read.

So I've extracted all warning and threats from the message I received, and I've pared it down to a very funny piece of prose I believe will strike a chord with women everywhere who know how very important -- and how very painful and humiliating -- the dreaded mammogram can be.

And so here it is, in all it's glory. Read it, absorb it, love it, and pass it on. Or don't pass it on. I'll be OK with your decision either way. Promise.

Go Get Your Mammies Grammed

For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze or bruise them.
And give them monthly tests.
So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And I always wore my bra.
After 30 years of astute care,
My gyno, Dr Pruitt,
Said I should get a Mammogram
"OK," I said, "let's do it."
"Stand up here real close" she said,
(She got my boob in line),
"And tell me when it hurts," she said,
"Ah yes! Right there, that's fine."
She stepped upon a pedal,
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate came slamming down,
My hooters in a vise!
My skin was stretched and mangled,
From underneath my chin.
My poor boob was being squashed,
To Swedish Pancake thin.
Excruciating pain I felt,
Within it's viselike grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenseless tit!
"Take a deep breath," she said to me,
Who does she think she's kidding?!?
My chest is mashed in her machine,
And woozy I am getting.
"There, that's good," I heard her say,
(The room was slowly swaying.)
"Now, let's have a go at the other one."
Have mercy, I was praying.
It squeezed me from both up and down,
It squeezed me from both sides.
I'll bet SHE'S never had this done,
To HER tender little hide.
Next time that they make me do this,
I will request a blindfold.
I have no wish to see again,
My knockers getting steam rolled.
If I had no problem when I came in,
I surely have one now.
If there had been a cyst in there,
It would have gone "ker-pow!"
This machine was created by a man,
Of this, I have no doubt.
I'd like to stick his balls in there,
And, see how THEY come out!

Author Unknown

A new PSA density test may help identify men at high risk of developing prostate cancer.

The test, used after a biopsy finds no signs of life-threatening prostate cancer, can compare the size of a man's prostate to his levels of a cancer-related protein called prostate-specific antigen (PSA).

Even though both men with high and low PSA densities can have clean biopsies, studies show it's men with very high PSA densities who are at greatest risk of developing prostate cancer. This and the fact that biopsies can miss between 20 and 33 percent of tumors makes this new test a potential breakthrough for the prevention and detection of prostate cancer.

Angelina Jolie, who told CNN host Larry King on December 18 that her 56-year-old mother was battling ovarian cancer, is now confirming that her mother passed away on Saturday afternoon.

According to a new release, Angelina Jolie and brother James Haven were with their mom, actress Marcheline Bertrand, when she died this weekend at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. It is reported that Jolie's boyfriend, Brad Pitt, was at the hospital with Jolie and her brother.

Bertrand, divorced from Jolie's Oscar-winning actor father Jon Voight and primary caretaker of her children, had small roles in the movies Lookin' to Get Out in 1982 and The Man Who Loved Women in 1983.

A private funeral is planned -- and the family asks that donations be made to the Women's Cancer Research Institute at Cedars-Sinai.

Jack Osbourne, son of rock legend Ozzy and colon cancer survivor Sharon Osbourne, recently stated that he blames his alcohol and drug addiction on his father. During his mother Sharon's diagnosis and treatment for colon cancer, the young Jack used alcohol and the powerfully addictive prescription painkiller OxyContin as a way to cope.

Jack is quoted as saying, "My problems peaked when mom was sick and dad was dealing with his problems the same way as I was, by drinking, so I had no one to turn to. I was just hanging out with my crowd drinking and doing drugs." Jack ended up in an addiction rehab clinic to get clean and sober.

This is no way excuses the badly-decided choices that Jack made when he turned to alcohol and drugs as a way to cope with his feelings, but there is a sharp focus and more than a bit of snarkiness to the news reports concerning Jack's blaming comment that misses a great opportunity in regard to discussing the impact a parent's cancer diagnosis has on children.

As the American Cancer Society (ACS) states, "Families face many complex issues when one of their members has cancer. There will probably be a time during a family's experience with cancer when psychosocial support services will be helpful in meeting the emotional needs of the family. There are teams of experts, each with a different focus, who offer support and are trained in how cancer affects a family." ACS offers a terrific resource for the family with the online publication of Helping Children When A Family Member Has Cancer.

The Family Doctor states, "Every person has a different way of handling news that a loved one has cancer. Many people react with shock, disbelief and even anger when they're first given the news." The Family Doctor's Cancer: Helping Your Family Help You offers advice on different questions a parent might have, such as:

• How will my family react to the news that I have cancer?
• Should I tell my children that I have cancer?
• How do I tell my children that I have cancer?
• How can I help my children cope with their feelings?
  

In 2002, when I drove home after being told I had cancer, I wondered and worried about how I was going to tell my children, how I could avoid the unavoidable shattering of innocence in their world, how to protect them from their own fear and pain? I sat outside in the car, trying to stare through the walls of our home, knowing that in the next five minutes I would be changing our lives forever with the news of my cancer diagnosis. I wanted to freeze time, to save the innocence, to keep the awful news from being true.

In the ACS online resource for families, it states, "Parents can have a powerful effect on how their children react to a crisis in the family. In the beginning this responsibility can feel like a huge weight, but it is possible for family members to learn how to deal with and even grow through the experience of having cancer in the family."

Support services can include individual counseling, family counseling, and support groups. If you do not know where to start, ask your physician or call the local hospital or local ACS office. Someone will be able to help you help your children, and all family members, navigate through the crisis of cancer, so that everyone becomes a survivor of cancer in the best way possible.

In an analysis of animal research used to understand and treat human diseases, the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine researchers found that using animals, such as mice, had limited value. Only half of the research done using animals translated into the same outcome for humans.

In a BBC News report over the controversy that rages regarding the wisdom of using animals in research, Professor Ian Roberts is quoted as saying, "The debate over this issue is really quite hysterical. At the moment, there is too much emotion and not much science. Anti-vivisectionists say animal testing is of no use at all, and those who do them say we would have no safe and effective treatments if we didn't." Lead researcher Roberts believes animal studies should be used, but not in all cases of research.

The value of animal research was catapulted to front page news headlines earlier this year when six men experienced tragic life-threatening side-effects as they participated in a human clinical trial of the drug TGN1412, which had previously been shown safe and effective during animal studies.

Last March, six healthy young men volunteered at Northwick Park Hospital in London as participants in a clinical trial for a drug called TGN1412, designed to treat leukemia, autoimmune and inflammatory diseases. According to the men, they were told by doctors there would be no serious short-term or long-term side effects. They were each paid £2,000. Within hours, the worst that could happen did, and the men were plunged into a nightmare beyond anything they could have imagined.

The headaches began, followed by convulsions, bloating, organ failure and comas. The men came to be known as the Elephant Men because of the swollen faces and chests they suffered. One of the men suffered gangrene -- all his toes and three of his fingers were amputated. He also suffered heart failure, kidney failure, pneumonia, septicaemia and liver failure. Recently, another participant was told he might be developing cancer as a result of the drug trial. All have been told to expect early death.

Do you feel that animal research used to test drugs and medical procedures meant to treat human ailments and diseases, are credible enough to continue, or do you believe that research using animals should be abandoned?

He an unlikely breast cancer survivor -- because he is a man. But still he developed the disease that roughly 1,700 men will contract this year. And while that statistics pertaining to women and men with breast cancer differ -- women are 100 times more likely to get the disease -- the biology of the disease is exactly the same. Under the microscope, breast cancer is breast cancer. It does not behave any differently in female and male bodies. And detection, treatment, and survival rates are nearly identical for both sexes.

Bob Riter, 49, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1996. Now in remission, he works as the associate director of the Ithaca Breast Cancer Alliance in New York where he speaks out and educates the public about this widespread disease. He believes his personal story, with its different twist, prompts people to really listen.

Riter's audiences learn that breast cancer in men usually presents itself as a lump in the chest, dimpling of the skin, or changes in the nipple. Doctors can perform breast exams, mammography, and biopsy to investigate the possibility of the cancer that typically strikes men between the ages of 60 and 70. Treatment includes mastectomy to remove the tumor and surrounding lymph nodes, chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapy.

It was the presence of blood coming from his nipple that sent Riter to his doctor -- and then to a surgeon who declared a diagnosis of breast cancer. Riter is somewhat of an exception because he reported to his doctor immediately. Most men do not. Many do not even realize they are at risk of breast cancer so they ignore symptoms. They also may go underground with their suspicions of breast cancer because of embarrassment. Both can lead to diagnoses of more advanced diseases.

Riter is doing his part to enlighten both men and women that men are not immune to breast cancer, that they should be active in monitoring their breast health. "I really like to go to national breast cancer meetings," he says, "because a lot of people know that men get breast cancer in theory, but until you have a face to associate with it, it's fairly abstract. And so I'm sort of that face."

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.

Our days start early now that Joey is in kindergarten and school begins promptly at 7:45 AM. His daddy gets him out of bed at 6:30 AM so he can have some time to wake to the world before shuffling out the door, and we've happily found that Mister Rogers' Neighborhood comes on at just this time. The same Mister Rogers that first appeared on television in Canada in 1963 and then in the United States in 1967 -- with a gentle man, Mister Rogers himself, spreading his calm but uplifting messages to children and nurturing personalities of kids everywhere.

The last original episode of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood was aired in 2001. And in 2003, Fred McFeeley Rogers died at the age of 74 after a brief bout with stomach cancer. But his legacy lives on as his show -- the longest-running PBS program ever -- still graces the television screen. I remember watching this show with my grandmother when I was a little girl. And now I get to watch it with my little boy -- who can also visit Mister Rogers on the PBS website.

Today, Joey and I started our day with a cheery little song, sung by the man who hated television and joined it only to bring about change -- to use this fabulous instrument to guide children in a positive direction. And here is what he sang this morning -- the song that is still playing in my head as I take on the day ahead of me.

It's such a good feeling to know you're alive.
It's such a happy feeling: You're growing inside.
And when you wake up ready to say,
"I think I'll make a snappy new day."
It's such a good feeling, a very good feeling,
The feeling you know that we're friends.

I hope it's a good day in your neighborhood.

Roy Thayers has experienced death up close, as he was caregiver for his first wife as she battled cancer -- he knows what it is like to watch someone fight for their life -- and he was there when she lost her life to cancer.

Thayers, who at the age of 77 lives alone, was recently told by his doctors that he was at risk for a fatal heart attack and might lose his life if he didn't undergo heart surgery to unblock the heart valves immediately.

The problem of avoiding death and living longer became a matter of time and money. When the NHS put Thayers on a nine-month waiting list for heart surgery, he worried he might not have that long to wait -- considering the urgency with which the doctors had impressed upon him concerning the imminent threat of a fatal heart attack without surgery. He was told he could have the surgery immediately if he paid for it himself.

When you are in a chat room, belong to an email discussion list, or for that matter, read a blog, you cannot be certain all of the time the other person is who they are representing themselves to be, and on some occasions, they are frauds with evil intent.

When it comes to blogs in the cancer community, given time in reading the blog, I have found most people are who they say they are -- but when it comes to chat rooms, there is a higher probability that the identity of the participant could be different than the person is in real life.

In Leeds Today, a news story has been published exposing a pervert who pretended to be a boy named Ricky with cancer, for the purposes of luring a teenage girl into a sexual encounter. Ricky was really a 45-year-old married man named Glen Marwood. But the 17-year-old girl believed his chat room story and began to offer emotional support and encouragement as Ricky went through cancer treatment. She became attached to Ricky and felt the relationship was developing romantically. Which is what Marwood was hoping and had planned.

What is fundamentally missing in a human being that could stoop so pathetically low as to tell people his child has cancer and then later tell them his child died from cancer -- when none of it is true? I know, innocent until proven guilty but the way things are stacking up in this story, it does appear Michael Ruffalo told a new employer his 3-year-old son had cancer, spent months reporting on his child's failing health and then topped it off by announcing the death of his son.

Ruffalo got caught in the lie when the Atlanta-based software firm Lancope Inc., tried to send flowers to the funeral. The fake funeral. "When you hear of somebody's child being ill and ultimately the child dying, you feel for that person," said Lancope's chief financial officer, David Cocchiara, whose company put Ruffalo on paid leave within weeks of hiring him because of his son's cancer diagnosis.

To absolutely make matters worse, if that is possible, Ruffalo has done this before with a previous employer. EncryptX Corp., an e-mail security company, said that shortly after hiring Ruffalo they got an e-mail about his son. "We tried to send flowers to the funeral home and they said we never heard of him." EncryptX wrote off the $21,464 dollars they paid him as a bad experience.

Lancope Inc. is suing Ruffalo.

In a 45-day bike tour, and over halfway through, six international college students have been cycling across America to raise money for cancer research and blogging the daily journey at Cross Country for Cancer. There are three reasons I have been following the blog posts: one, these young men are spectacular for the undertaking of raising money for cancer research by pedaling coast-to-coast; two, some of the posts and photos with captions are Monty Python-esque hilarious (which I compared them to in the first post I blogged about them); and three, it has been interesting to see this country at pavement level through the eyes of a group not normally residents.

They have blogged gorgeous scenery seen and generous people met. They have also discovered where the Grinch works his summer job. In case you don't know, because I didn't, the Grinch is running the tram somewhere near Cotopaxi, Colorado.

The story I am about to tell you is horrific and gathered from various news accounts of the event that have been published over the months since it happened.

Last March, six healthy young men volunteered at Northwick Park Hospital, in London as participants in a clinical trial for a drug called TGN1412, designed to treat leukemia, autoimmune and inflammatory diseases. According to the men, they were told by doctors there would be no serious short-term or long-term side effects. They were each paid £2,000. Within hours, the worst that could happen did, and the men were plunged into a nightmare beyond anything they could have imagined.

A nurse discovered lung cancer patient George McGarry, 72, had set himself on fire because, while he was smoking in his hospital bed, he set fire to the oxygen being piped through tubes in his nose. He died of a heart attack four days later as a result of his injuries. As I read this story, I thought the name of the hospital sounded familiar. It is. I remember it from the post I did recently about John Heron, diagnosed with kidney cancer, who went in for surgery to have his diseased kidney removed, only the surgeon removed the healthy kidney by mistake.

I am certain there are hundreds of hospital horror stories that could be told, and perhaps Ayr Hospital has made the news only because of the bizarre and unbelievable circumstances of late where patients are harmed in the most inefficient ways, but really -- there are some stories that leave you with such a sense of stunned disbelief you are left wondering if the world tilted just a bit more while you were sleeping, rotating ever closer into a dimension of precarious insanity. And what was a lung cancer patient doing smoking in his hospital bed? Yes, I know, it's the bad stuff that makes the news, but these stories are unusually disturbing, don't you think?