Liver cancer experts attribute the rise in HCC, a highly aggressive cancer sometimes called hepatoma, to an increase decades ago in chronic infection with hepititis C & B and also chronic alcohol consumption. Worldwide liver cancer affects 700,000 people with 18,000 Americans diagnosed in 2006 and over 19,000 estimated to be diagnosed in 2007. The increase of this disease in the United States has doubled in one decade and over 16,000 people are estimated to die from the disease this year.

The rise in the United States is expected to increase. There are now 1.4 million people in the United States infected with HBV and 4 million are infected with HCV. Growing evidence suggests two other diseases now increasingly common in the United States to have significant risk factors for primary liver cancer. Diabetes and obesity.

HCC typically does not have any symptoms until its later stages which makes it difficult to diagnose. Traditional chemo does not treat the disease with much success and liver transplants or resection surgeries are needed. One reason why donors are very important in fighting this disease. When signs and symptoms do arise they might include weight loss, fatigue, pain in the upper right abdomen that may extend to the back and shoulder, feeling full after small meals, accumulation of fluid in the abdomen, nausea, loss of appetite, and jaundice.

Caregivers are affected by cancer in their own unique and special ways. And those of us who have never been cancer caregivers and those of us who are patients receiving the care will never really know how it feels to walk in caregiver shoes -- until we do it ourselves.

Dr. Mitchell Luftig has done it himself. And after traveling a dark and unwanted journey of caring for his wife with breast cancer, he realized that he had learned a thing or two -- and he learned that he could share a thing or two. So he wrote a book, Be a Hero To The Woman You Love When She Gets Sick, and he speaks openly about his role as caregiver -- and his role at the time as father of twin high school daughters and husband of 20 years and clinical psychologist too. The whole ordeal turned his world upside down and he hopes that his story helps others -- primarily men -- who find themselves in a lonely place with the daunting job of caring for the people they love. As a psychologist, Luftig has good insight. And he wishes to help minimize the psychological barriers that prevent men from effectively caring for loved ones during times of serious illness.

Luftig shares in his book his realization that while he cannot repair and fix all hard times, he does have some important tools. And his power tools are love, support, and understanding. He has learned to sew joy out of rough cloth. He understands that he cannot shelter his family members from bad times, but he can shoulder their burden. And he now appreciates that all things are not so bad when measured against the yardstick of a life-threatening disease like cancer. Luftig's whole collection of wisdom and lessons and advice fill his book -- and bits and pieces also appear in periodic articles in Coping magazine. It's worth the read -- and the journey starts here.

I sometimes complain about the lack of warmth I've encountered from medical professionals throughout my journey with breast cancer. There have been glimpses of compassion. And there are a few who stand out as truly caring and concerned. But there seems to be a general lack of sensitivity. Maybe it's a side effect of the job -- distance -- that I should have been prepared for. But instead I was shocked by how I often felt forgotten, like a number, just one of many in my same boat. And this makes me sad -- for me and for all the others who sail rough waters in search of health. I have waited in lobbies for hours -- four hours one time -- and I've been encouraged to toughen up. I've rarely felt comforted -- except by a few who have hugged me or placed a hand on my shoulder. That's all it takes. A simple gesture or kind word.

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.