I'm not sure where I was headed professionally before cancer. I knew I was happy as a stay-at-home mom, and I didn't give much thought to what might come next. I was pretty certain I would not do what I did before kids -- college administration and counseling -- and that's as far as I'd gotten in my decision-making process.

It seems cancer would have further confused my future intentions. But it didn't. Instead, it led me in a direction I may have otherwise never discovered. First, it guided me to a part-time position at my kids' preschool. Just after surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation and in the midst of Herceptin breast cancer treatment, I felt a strong urge to reenter the world of the living. One day as I was dropping off my oldest child at his Pre-K class, I noticed an advertisement on the doors of the school. I inquired within -- and got a job working two afternoons per week.

The job was a blessing. I got to see my kids while I worked, interact with loving adults and children, and distract myself from the darkness of cancer.

I spend 10.5 hours every weekday on my own with some combination of my two little boys. My day starts each morning and extends through meals and playtime and laughs and tears and fights and struggles and snuggles -- but never a nap -- and even a part-time preschool job where one or two boys always tag along. Sometimes I try to write during the day while my boys are happy and occupied. Typically, I don't accomplish much. Interruptions are endless -- as they should be for a mostly stay-at-home mom who chooses to devote her daytime hours to raising children.

And so I go it alone until dinner time when my husband returns from work and selflessly takes over and sets me free. He cooks, serves, and cleans up dinner. He plays and entertains and wrestles and heads up bath and book time. And then he transports each boy on his back to their respective beds.

During my moments of freedom each evening, I lose myself in my thoughts -- and I begin to write. I love my mommy job -- and wouldn't trade it for any other full-time job -- but I also love being alone. And I love writing.

Helen Keller said, "I must have something besides husband and children, something I can devote myself to! I want to go on living even after my death! And therefore, I am grateful to God for giving me this gift, this possibility of developing myself, and of writing, of expressing all that is within me."

Writing -- mostly about cancer -- helps me develop my surviving self. It helps me express all that is within me. And maybe it's fitting that I don't get too much time to dwell on the disease that consumed me for two years. If I had to choose between two busy boys and a life busy with cancer, I'd take two boys in an instant. At the end of the day, a little bit of writing about a little of cancer suits me just fine.

Beginning today, these words will be broadcast on various local Gainesville radio stations. These words are about breast cancer, about raising money for this serious disease, about Making Strides Against Breast Cancer, about the American Cancer Society. These words are about me. These are my words.

I'm Jacki. I'm someone you know. I'm a mother of two young sons, a wife, a sister, an aunt, a daughter, a friend. I am a freelance writer and a preschool teacher. I like to exercise and scrapbook and watch my little boys enjoy life's simple pleasures. I like pedicures, massages and candles. I'm 36 years old. I'm someone you know -- but I'm not alone.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer almost two years ago. And the American Cancer Society was instrumental in my recovery. I was comforted by their cancer programs and events, soothed by volunteers who called me at home to lend an ear, and educated by American Cancer Society literature and resources.

Join me for our Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk on Saturday, October 14th, at the North East Park in Gainesville at 7:30 a.m. to help fund breast cancer research. Visit www.cancer.org or call 1-800-ACS-2345 to learn how you can become involved. Because someone you know has breast cancer. I'm someone you know -- I'm a breast cancer survivor -- and with the American Cancer Society, I'm not alone.