Cancer is named from the place it originates. This makes a difference on what type of treatments will be effective. Being diagnosed with cancer of the unknown primary (CUP) means that cancer has been found in the body but the place of origin is unknown.

If later, the place of origin is found then the type of cancer diagnosis changes from an unknown primary to the specific organ or body area that the disease first began.

Some cases of cancer of the unknown primary are unfortunately never found. Physicians will then decide on the best course of treatment based on two factors: The way the cells look under the microscope and which organs are currently involved.

Statistics and Prognosis:

The exact number of cases of this disease is not known. It may be about 2% to 5% of all cancers in the United States. It is found more often among men than among women. The average age of people with this cancer is about 60 years.

This is a very dangerous cancer. Only half of patients will live 9 to 12 months after their cancer is found. There are several reasons why this cancer is so serious. First, most of these are fast-spreading cancers. Second, because the exact type is not known, it is harder for doctors to know what treatment is best. Also, the cancer is often widespread, making it harder to cure.

In recent years, microscopic and other diagnostic techniques have improved dramatically. For this reason, doctors can now determine the primary site in about four out of five cases.

October 30, 2006 marked the launch of our series Cancer by the Numbers. Our intention was to give individual attention to each and every cancer, to raise awareness of the multitude of cancerous diseases that seem to consume our population, to answer questions and pose questions, and to initiate discussion among readers. I think we are accomplishing what we set out to do. Still, we have a lot of ground to cover. Since that October day last year, we have featured 13 different cancers. That's a lot. And not a lot, when you consider how many different strains of one disease really exist.

I am writing today to reaffirm our commitment to Cancer by the Numbers. These posts will appear at least twice per month -- so be on the lookout. Until the next one appears, though, take a look back at what we have to offer in one of our most comprehensive and researched Cancer Blog series. Here they are:

Cancer by the Numbers: Basal Cell Carcinoma
Cancer by the Numbers: Osteosarcoma
Cancer by the Numbers: Hodgkin's Disease
Cancer by the Numbers: Gallbladder Cancer
Cancer by the Numbers: Glioblastoma Multiforme
Cancer by the Numbers: Melanoma
Cancer by the Numbers: Mantle Cell Lymphoma
Cancer by the Numbers: Liver Cancer
Cancer by the Numbers: Rhabdomyosarcoma
Cancer by the Numbers: Cervical Cancer
Cancer by the Numbers: Pancreatic Cancer
Cancer by the Numbers: Lung Cancer
Cancer by the Numbers: Testicular Cancer

If there's a cancer you'd like to see covered sooner rather than later, please leave us a comment and let us know.

My sister has skin cancer -- the basal cell variety. She has two spots, both on her chest, each one scheduled to be surgically removed in a few weeks. If it were me with this new diagnosis, I'm sure I'd be freaking out, maybe because I've already had breast cancer and tend to panic about any cancer or maybe just because I'm a worrier by nature. But my sister is taking her cancer news in stride, and I am too -- because now that I've done a little research, it seems this type of cancer is pretty easy to beat.

Here's a little refresher lesson on the skin: The skin is the largest organ in the body, and is made of three layers -- the epidermis (top layer), dermis (middle layer), and subcutis (deepest layer). For the purpose of this post, let's focus on the epidermis.

The epidermis has three layers -- an upper, middle, and a bottom layer. This bottom layer is comprised of basal cells. This is where basal cell cancer begins.

Overview of osteosarcoma:

There are about 900 new cases of osteosarcoma diagnosed in the US each year. About 400 occur in children and adolescents younger than 20 years of age.

Osteosarcoma forms in the bones. It is most commonly diagnosed in those who are 15 to 25 years of age. It is also the most common type of bone cancer, and the sixth most common type of cancer in children.

Other types of cancer can eventually metastasize to the bone, however this disease originates in the bone and can spread elsewhere to other parts of the body.

Many cases of osteosarcoma, around 80 percent, begin in or around the knee area.

What are the risks of osteosarcoma?

The disease is most seen in boys and can arise from unpredictable errors in the DNA of growing bone cells during times of intense bone growth. Currently, there is no effective way to prevent this type of cancer but with proper treatment most kids diagnosed with osteosarcoma do recover.

I'm writing today to share with you a victory -- a diet and exercise victory. Let me begin with a little background.

I've always been in the normal weight range for my height. I am about 5'7" and prior to each of my two pregnancies, I weighed 142. For me, that translates into size eight clothing, size six for some oddly made-garments. I've always been generally happy with my weight, and I've never obsessed about the numbers on the scale. Yet there's been one area that's bothered me ever since my first baby was born -- my tummy. Now I like to use the excuse that my babies were big -- 10 pounds, nine ounces and 10 pounds, two ounces -- but clinging to this explanation did nothing to remove the loose skin from my middle. And for years, I guess I wasn't ready to work at whittling it away.

Enter cancer. Research shows many breast cancer patients gain weight during treatment -- sometimes up to 30 pounds. And while I never did gain this much, my weight has increased over the past almost three years. Perhaps it was hormones, the chemotherapy drugs, the anti-depressant I just stopped taking. Regardless, I didn't like the extra weight. So I tried to do something about it -- and about that pesky tummy too. And herein lies the victory.

We're still basking in the hot sun, bronzing our bodies in tanning beds, and playing outdoors without slathering on the sunscreen. What will it take, I wonder, for our society to catch on, to take real steps toward preventing skin cancer?

It seems education isn't enough. Most of us know by now all it takes is one bad sunburn to increase our risk of skin cancer, yet we continue to collect burn after burn after burn. Perhaps like all habit-forming behaviors -- think smoking -- it takes something tragic in our lives to inspire change. When someone we know gets lung cancer after a lifetime of smoking or someone we know develops melanoma after years of sunbathing, maybe we get the hint. Maybe

Now, I know you don't personally know this young woman -- she calls herself Miss Melanoma -- but I suggest you read her story. And I recommend you take what happened to her -- she lost part of her foot to melanoma and is currently battling a spread of the disease -- and allow it to really sink in, allow it to motivate you to take cover from the sun, before something like this happens to you. Because it can.

I'm sharing seven bits of wisdom this Sunday that are not my own. I am borrowing them from Pat McRee who has collected all sorts of survivor stories, affirmations, quotations, poetry, lyrics, and resources, has wrapped them with a bunch of hope and humor, and has packaged them in a box she calls Support to Go, The Unbook for the Journey through Breast Cancer.

McRee's colorful, lively box contains 80 cards. And on each card is some type of tip, idea, recipe, myth, truth, and essay that makes the breast cancer road easier to travel.

Live it. Learn it. Pass it on. That's what McRee says -- and exactly what she did when she stacked her deck of cards with such meaningful and magical material.

There is no way I could easily choose seven cards from my own box of support -- there's just too much good stuff, and it all deserves equal attention. So I drew seven random cards from the pile that sits before me, and this is what I got.

Queasy Made Easy
This card lists menu items targeted for the chemo tummy. A registered oncology nurse for 20 years, Betty Dozier shares what she has learned about what to eat -- clear, cool drinks, fruit juice, plain baked potatoes, Cold canned or fresh fruit, saltines, rice, toast, clear broths, sherbet, Popsicles -- and what not to eat -- gravy, sauces, potato chips, sour cream, heavy creamed soups.

Safety in Numbers
McRee doesn't put much stock in statistics and numbers generated by calculators that have nothing to do with real people. But she does believe in numbers when it comes to survival. On this card, she lists the names of genuine survivors with real numbers. She lists Shirley Weinman, a 20-year-survivor, Janice Johnston, an eight-year survivor, Linda Beebe, a 15-year survivor -- and so on.

No Smile Left Behind
McRee offers a prescription for play, an invitation to smile and laugh and rejoice in the face of cancer. "Cut eye holes in a paper bag and wear it to treatment," she says. "Tell 'em you just couldn't face another day." Another idea -- "Pass the word that everyone who enters the waiting room will get a Standing Ovation. They all deserve 'em just for showing up."

Fuzzy Logic
Check out this oh-so-true poem:

Too gray, too wavy, too doggone thick,
Smack in the front ... a big 'ol cowlick!
Split-ends and frizzies whenever it rained,
Now it's hard to believe I ever complained;
So, Lord, let's grow something! I'll nevermore whine ...
Gray, thick and wavy will suit me just fine.

Postcards
McRee provides a few postcards intended for mailing to surviving friends. One says, I hear you're patched, retreaded and approved for the road. Another says, U are not alone.

Hair Tomorrow
McRee offers a souvenir keeper for a lock of pre-chemo hair. Why not save it, says McRee, who shares that what grows back might be as different as your new life will be.

Buttoned-Up
Make your own buttons -- and wear them proudly. This card gives button wording ideas -- like Symmetry is so yesterday, Cancer: Been There, Beat That, and Stamp Out False Hopelessness.

Seven down -- 73 to go. I can't wait to read more.

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.

The American Cancer Society has happily announced that cancer deaths have declined for the second straight year. This is big news -- mostly because our population is growing and aging and it's entirely possible this could have led to an increase in cancer deaths. Not only is this not true, but the drop in deaths for this second year is eight times greater than the drop during the first year. Amazing.

It's hard to imagine in light of this great news that there are still less hopeful statistics out there on the cancer front. But there are so many dimensions to this disease -- prevention, detection, diagnosis, treatment, survival -- that the numbers can vary tremendously depending on perspective.

From the perspective of diagnosis, one in two men and one in three women in America today will develop cancer during their lifetimes. These staggering statistics, based on data collected during 2001 through 2003, are detailed in a pivotal paper appearing in The Oncologist -- a monthly peer-reviewed journal for doctors devoted to cancer patient care.

Dr. Matthew Hayat and colleagues, who worked on this paper for the National Cancer Institute, reveal other worrisome numbers and facts.

It seems the number of new cancer patients is expected to more than double from the current 1.36 million in 2000 to almost 3 million in 2050. Five-year survival for all cancer stages combined ranges from as low as 16 percent for lung cancer patients to 100 percent for prostate cancer patients. And black Americans are reported to have the highest cancer incidence and mortality rates for men and women for all cancers combined.

So while less people are dying from cancer, diagnosis of the disease seems to be on the rise. Not exactly a perfect scenario -- but if science and research can keep up, perhaps those diagnosed with cancer will need to prepare not for death, but for the management of a chronic condition.

Cervical cancer was once the most common cancer in women. But between 1955 and 1992, the number of cervical cancer deaths dropped by 74 percent -- thanks to increased use of the Pap test, a screening tool that can find changes in the cervix before cancer develops and can also detect cancer in its most curable stage. The Pap test is still widely used. And the cervical cancer death rate continues to drop four percent every year.

In 2006, about 9,700 new cases of invasive cervical cancer will be diagnosed in the United States. About 3,700 women will die from the disease. Non-invasive cervical cancer is believed to be four times more common than the invasive form of the disease. Nearly all of these cases can be cured.

Cervical cancer typically occurs in women between the ages of 35 and 55 and rarely in women under the age of 20. It affects mostly Hispanic women, and African-American women develop the disease 50 percent more often than non-Hispanic white women. Women most as risk for cervical cancer are smokers, those with HIV or chlamydia infections, those with diets low in fruit and vegetable consumption, those who between 1940 and 1971 took the hormonal drug DES, and those who have taken oral contraceptives for extended periods of time. Women who have had multiple pregnancies, have a family history of the disease, and have a low socio-economic status are also at risk. Those most at risk, however, are women with human papilloma virus.

Human papilloma virus (HPV) is the most common risk factor for cervical cancer, and some experts believe a woman must have HPV to contract cervical cancer. There are 100 different types of HPV, 13 of which are likely to cause cervical cancer through sexual contact. There are usually no symptoms of HPV, but possible signs of cervical cancer can include vaginal bleeding, unusual discharge, pelvic pain, and pain during sexual intercourse.

There are two ways to stop cervical cancer. First, women can protect themselves against HPV. Protection comes in the form of delaying sexual activity, limiting the amount of sexual partners and their partners, using condoms (thought to be 70 percent effective) and receiving the cervical cancer vaccine, recommended for use in females ages 11-26. The vaccine is most effective for women who have never been sexually active. Second, women can receive regular Pap tests in order to catch pre-cancers. Pap tests are recommended for women three years after their first sexual encounter and before the age of 21 -- and then every year after that.

An abnormal Pap test typically prompts a colposcopy -- a technique that uses a scope to examine the cervix. Diagnosis usually stems from a combination of other scoping methods, pelvic exams, imaging tests, and biopsies used to confirm the presence of cancer and to stage the disease. Stages range from 0-4.

For non-invasive cervical cancer, surgery -- ranging from removal of the cancerous tissue to hysterectomy -- may be the only treatment necessary. For invasive forms of the cancer, surgery is often followed by radiation and chemotherapy. Women interested in preserving their fertility should discuss options with their physicians.

The state of cervical cancer has come a long way over the years. And this year, two critical developments emerged. In June 2006, the FDA approved the first drug for late-stage cervical cancer. The drug, Hycamtin, is recommended for use in combination with chemotherapy. Also is June, the cervical cancer vaccine, Gardasil, was released. Both developments are monumental -- and both will undoubtedly help decrease the already-dropping cervical cancer death rate.

For more information about cervical cancer, visit the following sites:

American Cancer Society
Mayo Clinic
Medline Plus
National Women's Health Information Center

My mom's best friend died from pancreatic cancer just three months after her diagnosis with the disease. One of my co-workers lost her mother to the same disease just weeks after diagnosis. Another co-worker's husband lost his battle with pancreatic cancer after a 15-month all-out fight. And a family friend has somehow been surviving this deadly disease for years now. He's the exception, defying the odds rarely in favor of long-term survival.

About 33,730 people will be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2006. Many of them -- 32,300 -- will die from the disease that is rarely caught early. Pancreatic cancer is the fifth leading cause of cancer death in the United States.

In 2006, 174,470 people will be diagnosed with lung cancer in the United States. About 92,700 men and 81,770 women will develop the disease -- the leading cause of cancer death among both men and women.

An estimated 162,460 men and women will die of lung cancer this year, accounting for 28 percent of all cancer deaths and taking more lives than colon, breast, and prostate cancers combined. While most people diagnosed with lung cancer will die within the first two years of diagnosis -- this has not changed in 10 years -- some people are cured. There are currently about 333,000 long-term survivors.

Testicular cancer, cancer in one or both of the testicles, usually occurs in young men and will strike about 8,250 of these men this year. About 370 men will die.

A man's lifetime risk of developing this cancer -- that typically shows up in only one testicle -- is 1 in 300, securing it as one of the less common cancers in the United States. The chances of dying from testicular cancer are 1 in 5,000, making it one of the most curable forms of cancer. Yet it is still the most common form of cancer in men ages 15-34. It is also a cancer commonly characterized by denial and embarrassment. As a result, it is one of the least mentioned cancers.

All cancers are not treated equally. Some attract a frenzy of attention -- breast cancer -- and some receive not much attention at all -- gallbladder cancer. Some are vigorously researched and studied. Others sit by idly, rarely the subject of investigation. Some are feverishly funded. Some never prosper by way of financial support. Yet they all share something very important in common. They are all cancer.

All cancers are marked by an uncontrollable division and spread of abnormal cells. And they are all capable of delivering shock and despair and even death to any one of us. And that makes each one -- brain cancer, cervical cancer, colon cancer, eye cancer, liver cancer, prostate cancer, stomach cancer, you name it -- worthy of equal attention.

And so I bring to you Cancer by the Numbers, a series of posts that will feature the basics about all sorts of cancer, beginning with the numbers -- the statistics -- to help define the prevalence of each cancer, followed by important facts about screening, diagnosis, treatment, survival, and more. I will cover the well-known cancers, the sort-of-known cancers, the barely-known cancers. And while I can only offer what I can track down on each form of cancer, I intend to dish out every piece of data I can dig up -- so we all can become a little more informed, a little more prepared should we have to personally do battle with any one of the 100 possible cancers out there.

The American Cancer Society reports that 1,399,790 new cancer cases will be diagnosed in 2006. This estimate does not include most carcinoma in situ (noninvasive cancer) cases and also does take into account the estimated one million cases of basal and squamous cell skin cancers that will be diagnosed this year. Of these predicted cases, about 564,830 will result in death -- that's more than 1,500 people each day. Cancer is the second most common cause of death in the United States, exceeded only by heart disease, and accounts for one of every four deaths.

These numbers are staggering. But without further explanation, they are broad and all-encompassing and don't say much about how all the individual diseases add up. That's what I plan to do -- break it all down, cancer by cancer, until the numbers make sense. And the cancers do too.

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.