The build-up to 2006 was a bit uncertain for me. At the end of 2004, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and set my sights on short-term survival, moment by moment, day by day. I wasn't sure 2005 -- in its entirety -- was a guarantee so I tried not to look too far ahead. I focused on the completion of each of the year's cancer steps -- surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, the beginning of a year-long Herceptin therapy, and so much more -- and somehow, I survived the whole ordeal. And the whole year.

I made it through 2005, and I have almost made it through 2006 -- a year marked by a cancer slow-down, a more normal existence. Moment by moment, day by day, the burden of cancer loosened it's grip on me. And as I begin to reflect on the year that has all but passed before my eyes, I realize it turned out just fine. Here are seven reasons why.

• On May 19, 2006, my very first post published on The Cancer Blog. What a thrill it was -- and still is -- to find myself engaged in a useful pursuit as a result of my own cancer experience.
  

• On June 28, 2006, the last drops of Herceptin made their way through my body, marking the conclusion of 17 doses of this hopefully life-saving potion.

• On September 15, 2006, my port came out, signaling my acceptance of a life without drug treatment, my faith that I will never again need a foreign object sewn under my skin.

• On December 6, 2006, 18 months of counseling came to a close. Armed with skills to cope with all sorts of emotional issues, I am marching forward, free of the disabling anxiety and free-flowing tears that first landed me in the counseling chair.

• For much of 2006, I have been a student of fitness training, pushing myself physically in search of better health. It's not always easy, I'm not always motivated, and I am known to whine a bit -- but still, I am happier just knowing I am working toward sustained health.
  

• Throughout the entire year, I have walked away from every medical check-up and follow-up with a clean bill of health. I hear the longer someone survives cancer, the less likely the disease is to return. Happily, I have two years of survival under my belt.

• Ever since my diagnosis, I have been reaching for others with journeys similar to mine. First, I reached for support and guidance and reassurance. Then, I reached to offer my own version of support and guidance and reassurance. The year 2006 has been full of rich connections, found only because of cancer. Reaching makes me feel good.

Yes, the year 2006 turned out just fine.

There are many proud sponsors of the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation Race for the Cure -- American Airlines, Yoplait, Ford, Kelloggs, New Balance, Ultra Quilted Northern, Remax, Sun Chips, and Zeta Tau Alpha Fraternity. And new this year is Coldwater Creek -- a company that specializes in women's apparel, jewelry, accessories, and gifts. Tucked away in Sandpoint, Idaho, Coldwater Creek offers merchandise through a number of retail stores across the country, through direct-mail catalogs, and through their website too. And now they offer something more -- the IN PINK Collection. Ten percent of each purchase from this collection of clothing and accessories goes directly to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. And for each visor purchase, 100 percent of the profits are donated.

At Coldwater Creek, more and more women are being touched by breast cancer -- employees, co-workers, family members, friends, and customers. Breast cancer is a widespread disease that needs widespread support. So those at Coldwater Creek are reaching out and joining the ranks of supporters. And they are giving back to the many women who have supported them over the years. One small step by one company can make a world of difference.

My friend called me last night as she was having a miscarriage. She had been to the doctor, heard no heartbeat, and learned via ultrasound that her baby had stopped thriving weeks ago. Her doctors told her what to expect -- bleeding and cramping and contractions and possibly a D & C -- and she was experiencing some of these inevitable symptoms as we spoke on the phone. My friend called me because the same thing happened to me six years ago -- and when she remembered this, she dialed the phone from a state thousands of miles away. And despite our distance, our connection was close enough for comfort.

I will share anything and everything about my own experience with breast cancer -- how I found it, how it was removed, how it was treated, how I fared through the whole ordeal, how I'm surviving now. I figure that if I spread the word about what happened to me, that others will become more aware and some -- especially those with a new diagnosis -- will benefit from whatever wisdom I have to impart. So I am an open book. I talk about breast cancer, answer questions about breast cancer, and probably insert my opinion about the topic to some who don't really care. But I will continue talking and sharing -- and writing -- because the alternative would be a disservice to the few I may be able to help.

So a card stuck in the middle of a magazine caught my eye the other day. The slogan on it reads, Tell Someone and the illustrations on this card -- that functions as a postcard -- show women reaching out to other women. There are women talking on the phone and a woman tapping another on the shoulder. The message they appear to be spreading is highlighted in the text below the graphic representation of this campaign to raise awareness of cervical cancer. The message is about HPV -- human papillomavirus -- and about how millions of women already have it and how some don't even know they have it. I learned from reading this card that for some, HPV will clear on its own. But for some, cervical cancer may develop. This is why Pap tests are critical. And so what all women should be telling other women is this -- ask your doctor about the importance of Pap tests. And be active in your own health. And follow all recommendations for detecting health concerns early. I learned from reading this card that I should tell someone about this. And so now I have.

There is something about reading stories about other cancer survivors that helps me in moments of despair. Sometimes I look to the blogs that I read regularly -- blogs that capture the essence of realities that are not my own -- and I feel somehow comforted. I gain perspective and can remove myself a bit from my own turmoil. I gather strength and hope from others who struggle like me. I absorb the words written in these journals and see the photos of real people with real struggles and the big picture becomes clear to me -- breast cancer is widespread and far-reaching. And because of this, I have a lot of company of my path of uncertainty. This is what soothes me.

Books help me too -- the kind of books with little snippets of advice and wisdom from other survivors. Like Hope Lives! The After Breast Cancer Treatment Survival Handbook. My favorite chapter is about recurrence. There are passages from women who have had breast cancer two and three times and these strong women remind me that I if necessary, I can fight again and again and again. This book is humbling, sobering, and powerful. The voices that inhabit the pages put a bounce in my step and peace in my head. Hope does in fact live.