When I told my husband that the use of cannabis is being linked to a five percent increase in lung cancer risk -- that's 15 new cases each year in New Zealand where a study was just conducted -- he seemed to think this risk is comparable to his dying from a grasshopper landing in his eye.

A scientist John is not, but his thoughts on the matter seem to parallel international thinking on the drug which goes something like this: the risk marijuana use has on cancer incidence is so very low it's hardly worthy of much worry.

A California study of more than 1600 people last year found no link between cancer and smoking the drug, despite researchers' prediction they would find some kind of connection.

New Zealand researchers have found a connection, though, and however small it may seem, they say it's significant.

They found the risk of developing lung cancer increased by about eight percent each year for people whose cumulative exposure equated to smoking one joint per day -- about the same as the increase for someone who smokes one pack of cigarettes per day. They also found the younger someone starting smoking cannabis, the greater the risk and that contributing risk factors include smokers' deeper inhalation and the tendency to hold smoke in their lungs.

Cannabis, the most commonly used recreational drug in the world with 161 million users, has been thought to have a protective effect against cancer due to its chemical THC, which appears to kill aging cells and keep them from becoming cancerous. This study may prove otherwise.

The Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation recently revamped it's entire campaign landscape. There's been a name change -- Susan G. Komen for the Cure -- and an infusion of more than $1 million into advertising, and a logo redesign, and a whole slew of new slogans intended for magazines and websites and billboards and t-shirts.

These changes mark the 25-year anniversary of one woman's gift to her sister, Susan G. Komen, who lost her battle with breast cancer at the age of 36. This gift -- the now powerful Susan G. Komen for the Cure -- is most known for its Komen Race for the Cure, a nationwide fundraising and awareness campaign featuring races attended by more than one million participants.

Soon, this group may be known for even more.

Sister Nancy G. Brinker, a breast cancer survivor herself, says, "It's high time we took ownership of the strides we've made and declare our uncompromising commitment."

Brinker's declarations are flying. Some people think they are offensive. Others disagree. I won't share my opinion on this Thought for the Day just yet -- because I don't want to sway any opinions. But I'd love to hear your take on this Komen approach to stamping out breast cancer.

Think about this:

Some print and poster ads will feature a woman wearing a tank-style undershirt that says, "When we get our hands on breast cancer, we're going to punch it, strangle it, kick it, spit on it, choke it and pummel it until it's good and dead. Not just horror movie dead but really, truly dead. And then we're going to tie a pink ribbon on it."

Another ad states, "We only focus on one thing. Or, depending on how you look at it, two."

Another states, "If you're going to stare at my breasts, ... you could at least donate a dollar to save them."

Six-year-old Joey told his doctor the other day about my cancer. The topic came up because Joey wore a pink tie-dye t-shirt in anticipation of a gymnastics meet we would attend later that day. The meet was dedicated to breast cancer awareness, and fans were encouraged to pack the place pink. Joey was ready.

Joey told the doctor all about his shirt. And all about me.

"My mom had cancer," he said. "But she survived."

He talked about everything I had to endure, about his surprise that I had to go through so much. He spoke lovingly, his doctor told me. She said he seemed proud.

Joey's doctor told me his eyes were full of emotion when he spoke about me and my cancer. She said he wasn't on the verge of tears, but he was surely passionate about his mom's victory over a disease he just barely comprehends.

And I am proud of Joey. I am proud of his loyalty, his support, his ability to express his emotions, his unwavering enthusiasm for all things pink.

Yes, I survived. Joey did too. And we are both tickled pink.

I told my six-year-old son today that on Friday, we will attend a University of Florida gymnastics meet. Not such a big deal in and of itself but the fact that the entire meet is dedicated to the battle against breast cancer is what makes my announcement to Joey so important. You see, Joey has been my faithful companion ever since I was diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago. He has been my link to all things simple. He has been my rock, my inspiration, my motivation to fight for my life.

I told Joey this sports event is a celebration of people with breast cancer, like me. And I told him everyone must wear pink, a color he knows well when it's twisted in ribbon formation. I eagerly awaited Joey's reaction to the whole pink thing, not because he has an aversion to pink but because his absolute favorite color is orange and he tends to choose this fabric selection whenever possible. But without hesitation, Joey was completely accepting of making a pink fashion statement.

I told Joey we would make shirts so we could be as pink as possible on Friday. So we bought white t-shirts and two shades of pink dye, and we will soon tie-dye our shirts for the festive occasion where both University of Florida and University of Kentucky gymnasts will wear pink leotards -- in different shades -- and where the fans will make donations to the local American Cancer Society.

Joey asked me while we shopped for our t-shirt supplies if lots of people have cancer.

"Yes," I told him, recalling a fact I had just learned -- 8.9 million Americans alive today have a history of cancer. "Lots of people have cancer."

I am not sure what this means to Joey. But I suspect his comprehension of the disease is limited to pink ribbons, bald heads, and periodic celebrations. If only cancer were that simple.

Cancer is not simple. But Joey helps me face each day with simplicity. And I can't wait to simply make a few t-shirts with him and then pack the place pink in honor of all the women who every day face the complexities of a fierce opponent.

Glamour's October magazine features stories about breast cancer survivors. Cancer Vixen Marisa Acocella Marchetto, cartoonist for Glamour and The New Yorker and author of Cancer Vixen: A True Story, is profiled. And another survivor -- young mom Kelly Corrigan who authors her online journal Circus of Cancer -- is highlighted. And Allison Briggs, diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 26, shares her photo journal with readers who learn from all three survivors that more and more, women are sharing their cancer journeys in very public ways.

Allison -- Alli -- could not sleep the night she was diagnosed with breast cancer so she sent her boyfriend to the store for medication to calm her upset stomach. While he was gone, she noticed a camera sitting on the bedside table. She had an overwhelming urge to start snapping photos. So she took some self-portraits, had her boyfriend take some more when he returned home, and decided that night she would document her journey through photographs. She wanted to remember this phase of her life -- even though she had no idea how it would turn out.

Life is turning out just fine for Alli, who has rallied a support team called The Rack Pack, a group of women who aim to make a difference -- all because of the inspiration and strength they receive from their friend Alli. They are participating in the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer 3-Day, 60-mile walk in San Diego November 10-12. They sell Rack Pack t-shirts. They offer e-mail notification of exclusive Rack Pack events. They share updates about Alli. They never stop trying to make a difference -- for Alli and for women everywhere fighting breast cancer.

Michael Fumento is an author, journalist, and attorney specializing in science and health issues. And he has a lot to say about the Surgeon General's recent announcement that the second-hand smoke debate is over -- that second-hand smoke does in fact kill. Fumento believes that the debate is over means if you have your doubts, then keep them to yourself -- that the topic is not up for discussion any longer. But Fumento states that we should definitely have doubts -- about the effects of second-hand smoke and about what the Surgeon General has to say about it.