I like to find meaning in ordinary life events. Like my dreams, for example. The other day, I had a dream about a friend from high school. In my dream, this friend was a doctor at my local hospital, where all my cancer poking and prodding takes place. It makes sense this guy was a doctor -- last I heard from him, he was in medical school. Where he practices medicine, I had no idea. But maybe my dream was a clue. Maybe it was sign this old pal is right here in Gainesville, Florida.

Nope. I did a Google search and he's in Ohio -- right where we graduated from high school and he attended medical school. Not so much meaning in that dream. That's OK. I'm on to my next life interpretation now.

Ever since I was diagnosed with breast cancer my brother-in-law has been wearing a pink bracelet -- the one that says: Share Beauty. Spread Hope. For almost three whole years, the same rubbery band has been hanging from his wrist. Everyone in my family started out with one of these trinkets of support. And every one of us has since abandoned our pink fashion statement -- everyone except for Jack. He has stood firm in his support. I'm not sure he ever took that thing off. What a guy.

Tomorrow, the second issue of Beyond: Live & Thrive After Breast Cancer hits newsstands. And I, for one, can't wait to pick up a copy of the Spring/Summer edition of this positively powerful publication.

If you read the first issue -- the Fall/Winter magazine released in October -- you know what this glossy book has to offer. There are personal stories and interviews, shared wisdom and sound advice. There are exercise tips and health tips and survival tips. There are stories about chemo brain and fertility and relationships. There is information about breast cancer research and resources and products that are tried and true.

I want to tell you so much more -- but really, I want you find out for yourself just how moving and soothing this magazine can be.

So plan to get your copy -- tomorrow -- and tell all your friends to do the same. If you need a gift for a loved one newly diagnosed or someone who has long survived this disease, try this on for size. Buy a few copies and donate them to your favorite doctors' offices -- a fresh magazine can do wonders for any waiting room. Share one with a neighbor, a relative, a new acquaintance.

Do what you can, will you -- to both reap the benefits of this solid source of inspiration and help sustain the life of this magazine? Because magazines are only as strong as the readers who embrace them. And trust me, this is one catch we cannot afford to lose.

Peter Augustini's wife Jodi is fighting Stage IV breast cancer. They have three children, Charles, 10, Caroline, 7 and Max, 2.

Augustini is organizing a fundraiser to benefit the research Dana Farber Cancer Institute is using to help his wife fight breast cancer. He wanted to help Jodi and others fighting her type of aggressive breast cancer, referred to as Her-2 positive breast cancer.

Augustini decided to take on a holiday, Valentines day, that some people seem to think is a commercially contrived holiday. Augustini says "This is the chance to do something meaningful".

You can purchase a three inch wooden heart for your Valentine via the Share your Heart Fundraiser. The proceeds will benefit a fund specifically set up to fund research into a cure for Her-2 neu form of breast cancer. The research involves work on a drug called herceptin, which is attracted to specific proteins found only in cancer cells in the body.

The hearts are $5 each. You can also purchase a package of 10 for $20 and a package of 25 for $40. The hearts come unpainted and ready to decorate.

Share Your Heart Valentines are available for order vial the Dale, Wheelock and Memorial School Web sites, www.medfield.net or by e-mail to paugustini@cera.com.

I'm sending off my wig to a new friend tomorrow. It's all wrapped and boxed and packaged and ready to travel from Gainesville, Florida to the east coast of the sunshine state where it will land in the hands of a young women newly diagnosed with breast cancer.

This new friend found me here -- on The Cancer Blog -- and we have been corresponding back and forth via e-mail about all sorts of cancer topics -- like surgery and pathology and chemotherapy and most recently, wigs. She asked me just the other day what type of wig I wore after I lost my hair to chemotherapy. I told her I didn't like full wigs, that they felt too unnatural, that I feared my little boys would rip them off my head in the middle of the grocery store. I told her I opted for underhair -- a hairfall of sorts made of plain, white, soft cotton on the top with hair hanging only from the sides and back. It is worn with hats, to cover the cotton part, and it feels quite secure -- although it did sail off my head at the beach one day, compliments of a strong breeze.

I told my new friend that I was completely happy with my choice. I told her the underhair is made of human hair and that customers get to choose the color, texture, length, and size. The wig can be washed, dried, curled, styled, and cut. It looks so real that some people didn't even know chemotherapy took my hair. It was the perfect disguise for me.

I led my new friend in the direction of this wig -- www.hiphat.com -- where she could order her very own handmade underhair. I told her to ask her doctor for a prescription for a cranial prothesis and to see if her insurance company would reimburse her some of the cost of this fairly expensive wig option. And then I realized it would be silly for her to do all this work and spend so much money when my wig is tucked away in my closet, sitting pretty on a nice styrofoam head, doing nothing more than collecting dust.

I don't need my wig anymore. But my new friend does. So tomorrow, it begins traveling her way. And she can keep it for as long as she needs it, for as long as I don't need it. Which I hope is forever.

I love it when seven of something lands before me, offering me potential material for the Sunday Seven series. In fact, it just happened. And I can't wait to start writing about the Seven Levels of Healing common to cancer patients and those who love them.

I have a new book. It's called The Journey Through Cancer: Healing and Transforming the Whole Person by Jeremy Geffen, MD.

Dr. Geffen knows cancer. He lost his father just three months after a stomach cancer diagnosis. He became an oncologist. He founded a cancer research center. He travels and speaks and writes about health and wellness. And inside the pages of his newly revised and updated paperback, he details the Seven Levels of Healing -- a blend of conventional and complementary principles-- and the true stories of cancer patients who have directly experienced them.

It occurred to me while first flipping through this book that I might read it in its entirety and then write a review of the material. Then I determined it would take much too long for this approach. With two small children, a few jobs, an exercise routine I must revisit, and all the other bits and pieces of life that keep me occupied, this would be quite an undertaking -- the actual reading, the remembering, the writing. Somehow, this would be too much to manage. But small steps. I think I can handle small steps. So this is how it's going to work.

I will present to you in this post the Seven Levels of Healing. I don't know much about them yet -- although by title alone, I am sure I have lived most of them in my own cancer journey. So I will simply lay the groundwork. And then I will start reading. And as I read, I will write. This will be my own one-woman book club -- with an open invitation for new members. Read my posts and reflect on them. Agree. Disagree. Leave comments. Buy your own book. Read with me. Apply what you learn to your own life. Share what you learn with others. The possibilities are endless as I journey my way through this new book in search of peace, clarity, and comfort -- all of which flow from these seven levels.

Level One: Education & Information
Level Two: Connection with Others
Level Three: The Body as Garden
Level Four: Emotional Healing
Level Five: The Nature of Mind
Level Six: Life Assessment
Level Seven: The Nature of Spirit

And so that's what I have to offer for now. I'm sorry to keep you hanging. But rest assured, I am hanging right along with you, eager to find a moment to dive into this book. To sink my teeth into the words, sentences, paragraphs, chapters. To relay it all to you. I can't wait -- to really understand the Seven Levels of Healing.

Stay tuned for:
The Journey Through Cancer: Introduction

Faced with a cancer diagnosis, or any challenging life event, you want to talk to someone who has already experienced what you are about to experience. You want to find stories about other people who have overcome adversity, preferably told by the people who went through it first-hand. You want to know what to expect.

Last year, when Katherine Brown's mother-in-law Ruth was diagnosed with Lymphoma, she went on an internet search to find people Ruth could talk to, who knew what it was like to be diagnosed with cancer, be inspired by the personal stories of triumph over the trials and tribulations of a cancer diagnosis and cancer treatment and cancer survivorship.

After an extensive internet search for the kind of community Ruth could connect with, Brown came up empty-handed. As need is the mother of all invention, Brown decided to create what she was looking for and could not find.

The Cancer Buddy Network is a result of Brown's vision. At the Cancer Buddy Network, you create an account; tell your story; be a buddy. Newly-diagnosed cancer patients, family members and friends, and cancer survivors are welcome. It is the blend of cancer patients, cancer survivors and the loved ones touched by cancer that brings real life hope and inspiration in cancer community support. The Cancer Buddy Network is a recent web destination and it looks very well done. Stop by and give it a look, add your voice to hope.

I ran on my treadmill today while listening to a song by the band Green Day. I have always liked the song -- Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life) -- but I like it more at this moment in my life than ever before because it speaks about looking back on the past in light of unexpected journeys -- and because my unexpected journey with breast cancer makes me look at everything differently. And when I look back at my life one day, I want to say that I had the time of my life. And that's why I like this song. And that's why I share it here today. Because I hope that in the end, we all can look back with the crystal clear knowledge that we had the time of our lives.

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it's worth it was worth all the while

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.

I recently learned that the CBS website features a whole section of public service announcements about various topics -- such as child abduction, depression, HIV/AIDS, menopause, osteoporosis, and heart disease. But what first caught my eye when I was visiting this site was the topic of breast cancer -- because this is the disease I am fighting. And then I spotted a section about colorectal cancer. I was intrigued about a television network's commitment to public health issues. So I kept reading and learned a thing or two about the CBS Cares initiative -- that is also delivered through television spots.

I learned that hundreds of hours have been spent researching each featured subject. And I learned that experts in each field have been consulted and interviewed for accurate and up-to-date information. I found that the basics of each topic are included on the website as well as detailed information that viewers might not otherwise know. For breast cancer, readers can learn about breast cancer in general, about early detection, and about risk factors. And there are video clips of celebrity spokespeople -- like Marg Helgenberger and Melina Kanakaredes -- who share their voices on the topic. For colorectal cancer, readers can gain insight into the prevalence of the disease by region. They can learn about polyps, about warning signs, about treatment options, and about survival rates. And celebrities Stockard Channing and Charles S. Dutton voice their messages about this disease. Doctor interviews and information from the American Cancer Society are sprinkled into the content of these very thorough, informative, and enlightening pages.

Dr. Jay Winsten, Associate Dean and Director of the Frank Stanton Center at the Harvard School of Public Health says, "It is truly unprecedented for a television network to create a website that draws so extensively and effectively on the expertise of numerous world-leaders in pubic health research." And now, CBS has set the precedent.

Eric and Sharon Langshur launched CarePages after their newborn son, Matthew, was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect. As a way to keep friends and family informed, they created a website that included updates, a message board and a photo gallery. The webpage worked so well for them that they started a business offering free webpages to caregivers to help them provide information to family and friends -- and to nurture an online community for caregivers. According to the Langshur couple, CarePages is touching the lives of more than one million families across the globe.

Getting started is easy. Sign up for your free webpage and in minutes you are ready to share information and become part of the CarePages community. Your webpage is as private or as public as you choose. As a CarePages member, you can create a virtual meeting place on the web, share news and photos, thoughts and feelings, and receive emotional support.

These days, there is no need to be alone as you and your loved one face the challenges and struggles of a cancer diagnosis and cancer treatment.

Apple CEO Steve Jobs delivered a commencement speech at Stanford University on June 12, 2005. It was about following curiosity and intuition, about looking back and connecting the dots in life, about beginnings and endings, about death. Jobs, a survivor of pancreatic cancer, knows a thing or two about facing death. And the words he chose to relate his life-threatening experience to a crowd full of hopeful graduates are powerful and inspiring. I could paraphrase his message -- but surely something would be lost in my translation. So here is a bit of what he said -- word for word.

I've been keeping a journal ever since I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. I first wrote by hand in a pink fabric-covered book, sprinkled with multi-colored polka dots. It looked feminine -- which is why I bought it -- and it's vibrance made me feel inspired, motivated, eager to write down the dreaded details of the beginning of my journey. Then I stopped writing in this book and began typing my words in an on-line journal -- a blog. My husband designed the presentation of it, with a pink banner that serves as the backdrop for the title -- my Breast Cancer blog. My first entry was completed on December 21, 2004 and I am still chronicling my journey here. I am also writing for this site -- the Cancer Blog -- and I write whenever and wherever else I can record my words. I do it because it helps me process information in a quiet, calming, introspective way. It soothes me, helps me work through panic and anxiety, helps me heal, and helps me chart my progress. When I look back at what I've written, I realize how far I've come -- or haven't come -- and it helps me move forward. I recommend journaling for everyone, and I recommend these seven simple suggestions for getting started.

When I first started going to counseling, I was told I would need eight to 10 sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy to help me deal with my anxiety, my panic, my fear of breast cancer recurrence. My first session was in May 2005 -- and I am still going. Those initial sessions are possibly all I really needed -- and perhaps I could have stopped the therapy long ago. But stopping never came up and no one told me I had to call it quits so I kept on marching into territory I had never before traveled. I have a degree in counseling -- but I'd never been counseled. I know how to listen to others and share empathy and ask open-ended questions -- but I'd never been the one talking and sharing and venting and crying and answering questions. Until last May -- when I discovered the appeal and the comfort of the counseling chair.

I marched into one of my sessions yesterday and plopped into a brown faux leather recliner. I talked about my recent graduation from Herceptin therapy and about how I might manage in life now that treatment is over. I talked about my jobs -- as a writer and a preschool teacher -- and how they fit into my world. I talked about the level of stress in my days and about how my once constant fear that cancer was trailing me has largely diminished. I talked about how breast cancer is no longer my constant companion -- about how it is now just an acquaintance. And I talked about how counseling was once so necessary and about how it is now just a luxury that helps me maintain peace as I live forward.

I am not sure when I will stop going to counseling. But I'm not completely sure of much anymore. And I've learned from counseling to not really question the future -- to just live in the moment and to give thought primarily to the here and now. And right here, right now, I'm sticking with my sessions, my one hour every month, my comforting counseling chair.

Most of us know her as Elyse Keaton on the long-time ago sitcom Family Ties. Many also know her from the variety of characters she has portrayed on television specials and movies. And Meredith Baxter is also known for her support of breast cancer research -- something not so apparent or obvious but just as significant in the scope of her life in the spotlight. Like many issues she speaks out on -- women's rights, gun control, state legislative matters -- breast cancer is an issue about which she is passionate. She has appeared at Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walks and presented gifts to the cause of breast cancer research and has starred in the 1994 television movie My Breast -- about a woman who successfully battles breast cancer. And she also has her own Meredith Baxter Foundation for Breast Cancer Research which began when she donated $10,000 to the University of Minnesota Cancer Center where her foundation was started. Much of the funding for this foundation comes from Baxter herself via the profits she makes from her own skin care products that are available in gift stores around the country. She says that life has been so kind to her that she was looking for a way to share her good fortune. So she took her concern about breast cancer prevention into the business arena. And just as she soared to success as one of the best-known TV moms, Meredith Baxter is soaring to new heights -- where she hopes to help prevent and one day cure breast cancer.

I always notice women wearing ball caps. I wore them almost every day while I received chemotherapy last year. I used them to cover my bald head -- along with wigs made for ball caps -- because I never could muster up the courage to show the world what was happening to me. So I look at others who wear these hats and wonder if they wear them for the same reason I did. Most times, I can tell they are worn for nothing more than fashion or for a means to disguise a bad hair day -- but there are times when I spot a ball cap that covers the battle scars of a war with cancer. And this makes me sad. And proud. And connected to these women who share an experience with me -- even though we never meet or speak or realize the bond we share. It's like watching another mom with a brand new baby in a stroller -- and knowing how it feels to be that mom with a new life at her fingertips and all the joy and potential (and lack of sleep and worry and tantrums) that lie ahead. It's a silent sisterhood -- being a mom in the world with other moms and being a cancer survivor in the world with other cancer survivors.

I never thought ball caps would be so important in my life. I observe them and analyze them and remember how they cushioned the blow I took when my blond hair left me for good.

My blond, straight hair never came back. Dark, curly hair took its place -- and it now sits underneath a ball cap because I'm having a bad hair day.