As I worked my way to the check-out cubicle at my oncology office yesterday, I carried with me the small stack of paperwork my doctor had handed me. There was a sheet denoting all my charges -- of course. There were orders for a mammogram and MRI. There was a summary of sorts about my visit. I handed each of these papers to the woman eagerly awaiting receipt of my money -- but before I let them leave my hands, I noticed a check mark on one of the papers. It was located right next to words: No cancer present, in remission. There were other words -- like cancer recurrence -- where my check mark could have landed. But it didn't. I ended up just where I want it be, just where I want it to stay.

A simple check mark brightened my day. It's not that I thought my cancer had returned. It's just that my every-three-month check-ups open the door for this possibility. I go to these appointments for a reason -- to identify cancer's current role in my life -- and so there's always a chance something will be discovered. But not today.

No cancer present, in remission. These are five of the most beautiful words ever written about me.

I just finished reading the words of Mark Raymond Clements -- and the words of his wife, Marianne, written when Mark was too ill to comment. I am overcome and overwhelmed with emotion because each string of sentences filling the pages of the Clements family homepage has touched me, inspired me, and saddened me all at the same time.

Clements was diagnosed in October 2005 with cholangiocarcinoma, a rare cancer of the bile duct normally found in people in their 70s.

"There is no known cure," writes Clements. "It does not respond well to chemotherapy. It is fast moving."

And fast moving it was. Surgery -- rarely a good option for this cancer -- was attempted but without success.

"After they opened him up, they discovered that the cancer had just spread too far," Marianne writes. "They closed him back up."

Chemotherapy came next and while there were some hopeful moments -- "overall distribution of the disease has decreased" -- the overwhelming course of Clement's disease continued on a fast track. And by June 2006, Clements realized, "the cruel reality of CANCER hits like a brick wall," when a CT scan revealed the presence of as many as 20 new tumors in his liver.

The Clements family never abandoned hope and were steadfast in their faith as cancer continued to dominate their lives. In October -- one year after diagnosis -- when Marianne believed doctors were sending a let's make you as comfortable as we can message, the family began pursuing alternative methods. But by December, when it had become clear treatment of any kind would no longer help, Mark Clements was welcomed by the loving arms of hospice -- where he remained until he passed away on January, 19, 2007. He was 40 years old.

On the very day of her husband's death, Marianne writes, "I know I am not alone in feeling complete anguish at this time. I know it will lessen over time. I know I will not understand 'why' until I'm with him again, but what I do know is that Mark loved me. He loved his children. He loved his family and friends. He will be waiting for me with our loving Father in Heaven. And we will be together again. Our Father in Heaven is aware of our pain and will comfort us still as he has through this past year."

And these are just some of the words that have has touched me, inspired me, and saddened me all at the same time.

It's an unsettling journey -- the pursuit of the five-year cancer survival mark. Some say each year of cancer survival makes the future more of a sure thing. And so surviving five years -- the traditional landmark of real remission -- is a big accomplishment. But then there's the perspective of numbers that for me say I have a 93 percent chance of surviving breast cancer for five years. After that, though, there's no telling what will happen. So I am eagerly awaiting the moment when I cross the five-year finish line as I anxiously realize this very same moment may also signal a more dismal outlook.

The paradox hit me straight in the face yesterday as I was waiting for my radiation oncologist to give me another six-month all clear announcement. I was reading the January/February 2007 issue of Coping magazine while I waited. And as I flipped through the pages, I landed right at these words:

Studies show that half of all breast cancer recurrences occur after completion of five years of standard tamoxifen therapy. Additionally, a third of women with estrogen receptor-positive early breast cancer experience a recurrence, and more of half of these recurrences occur more than five years after surgery.

Now this doesn't apply directly to me. My breast cancer was estrogen receptor-negative which makes me a non-candidate for tamoxifen. And this is what scares me. My tumor was aggressive and while my treatment was also aggressive, I don't get the extra five-year protection from hormone therapy. If women taking this drug can have recurrences after completing the therapy, I wonder what's in store for me having not had it.

Maybe I'm making comparisons that don't amount to any real conclusions. Perhaps my type of disease allows for a more secure future. Or perhaps it places me on shaky ground. I don't know for sure. And I don't think I'll dive any deeper into research than I already have. Instead, I will live for today -- while enjoying the announcement my oncologist shared with me yesterday. All clear!

An ABC news team in Australia abandoned its Brisbane radio studio yesterday after an investigation revealed there is something about the workplace causing breast cancer.

It's not clear what the cause may be, but the five-month-long investigation concluded a breast cancer cluster is related to the office environment.

Twelve women who worked at the Brisbane Toowong office had been diagnosed with breast cancer over the past 11 years. Eight of these women worked in the newsroom. Most had been there for more than five years.

ABC managing editor Mark Scott would not move his staff earlier this year when 100 staff members walked off the job in July, demanding relocation. He said it would take evidence -- not just suspicion -- of a breast cancer cluster for him to agree to relocation. Now he has evidence.

The investigation report shows women who worked at this office reported breast cancer at a rate 11 times higher than the general working community.

In addition to the relocation, all female staff at Toowong office were offered free mammograms and free counseling services during the investigation. Yesterday, Scott extended the offer to women at other ABC sites in Australia.

Out of Las Vegas, urban fashion designer and Cock Blocker Clothing founder Mark James has started a company with major attitude. As the company states on its website, it offers an artistic sense of humor to an otherwise vicious and often times malicious environment of everyday life issues of politics, art, sex, relationships, love, race, religion, business, and war.

Cock Blocker Clothing is popular with celebrities, who have autographed many Cock Blocker Clothing apparel items for an auction to benefit the 3-Day walk for breast cancer charity.

Supporting breast cancer research is personal for James, whose mother is currently battling her own diagnosis of breast cancer. He wants to help other women who are going through the same struggles as his mother in contributing to something that can make a positive difference.

Cock Blocker Clothing might not be for everyone. If you enjoy a wicked sense of humor and off-the-grid attitude, then you might appreciate the business passion of a man who once worked -- or as he says slaved -- for seven years in the corporate world of entertainment in Los Angeles for Warner Bros. & Fox Studios and then escaped.

If you would like to be a sponsor, make donations or take part in auction bidding, check in at the Cock Blocker Clothing website where auction, fundraiser time, date, and venue information will be posted June 25. You can view photos of the autographed-by-celebrities Cock Blocker Clothing items at that time.

Three days ago, I went all Erin Brockovich about the news that wasn't being reported in the news reports about the Nevada Cancer Institute opening offices in Elko and Fallon. As initially reported by the local Nevada television and print media, this was an effort to help provide outreach, education and support to the projected 11,000 Nevadans who will be diagnosed with cancer this year. At that time, not one of the news reports mentioned anything about the water supply, or the fact that Fallon is classified as a cancer cluster town, or why the offices were being opened. Days later, you can go here, and here, and even here, to be told that University of Arizona scientists think they may have a found the reason for the unusually high number of childhood cancer cases in Sierra Vista and Fallon, Nevada.