When I sit still in the middle of the day, I fall asleep. I'm not sure if it's a side effect of cancer or of life in general, but as a result, I keep myself moving at all times.

I'm always doing something -- writing, emptying the dishwasher, packing a school lunch, reorganizing cabinets and closets and drawers. There's always something to fiddle with, something to keep my body from crashing into a deep sleep.

My little boys have been playing with Lego all afternoon. For hours they have been content and happy and full of imagination. They've built flying boats and castles and pirate contraptions. My wish: to just sit and watch them, to absorb their words, their sound effects, their interactions.

I tried to just sit and watch, tried to hone my quiet observation skills. And then I fell sleep.

It's a dozing-off kind of sleep that creeps up on me and for brief moments, I am lost to the world, sometimes even dreaming for short periods of time. So I find I am more alert and productive in the study of my children when my mind is busy with some sort of task. It's not my ideal scenario. But I figure it's better to be awake and bonding with my boys -- even if it means I'm multitasking -- than sleeping through their special moments.

My boys are still building -- they are making flags for their ships -- and I'm awake. And writing and preparing dinner too.

The Lung Cancer Alliance -- the only national non-profit organization dedicated entirely to lung cancer patient support and advocacy -- asked pulmonary clinical nurse specialist Donna Wilson to help educate the lung cancer community about healthy breathing. Wilson agreed and her breathing tips, available on podcast, are intended to relieve shortness of breath related to pain or activity. Her three breathing techniques -- detailed here -- are simple, easy-to-understand, and truly relaxing.

Before beginning this series of breathing exercises, stop whatever you are doing and sit down or lean against a wall.

• Place chin to your chest to relax your neck muscles. Breathe 10 short bursts of air in and out of your lips. As you expel air, neck and chest muscles should relax.
• Place chin to your chest. Breathe three times in through your nose and out through your mouth.
• Place chin to your chest. Close your mouth, and breathe four times in and out only through your nose.
  

After completing these exercises, lift your head, breathe normally, and let your shoulders relax. In a few minutes, your entire body should start to relax -- and shortness of breath will resolve.

I don't have lung cancer -- but I do have moments of anxiety and panic. So I plan to save these tips. And I plan to use them. And I plan to share them. Because we all can benefit from a dose of relaxation.

The tunnel was long. And dark. And winding. And foggy. And ominous. It seemed to last forever -- at the time -- and at moments, time seemed to stand still. I was not sure if I'd ever pass through it and be okay -- if I'd ever see the light at the end. But I did. I tunneled through it all -- somehow -- and I came out feeling more alive than ever before. Now, some time after my escape from the fog, I am already taking for granted the fact that I am breathing, that I am healthy, that I am living. And when my fitness trainer noticed yesterday that I do not get dizzy and lightheaded anymore during my workouts -- when I once had to sit down, breathe, collect my whereabouts -- I realized that some of my progress since exiting my breast cancer tunnel is already lost on me. And I don't want to lose sight of where I was and how far I've come. I want to remember it and measure it and never forget how alive I am at this very moment. So I have started to really think about how things have changed since I felt stuck in time, in a dark place. I am thinking about my times in a hospital bed when I was barely able to stand up, barely able to walk a few steps without feeling like I would collapse. Now I can hop out of bed at a moment's notice, half asleep in response to a demanding child screaming from his bed. I am thinking about my once challenging pre-cancer exercise routine and how a time came when my legs felt so heavy I could not even contemplate walking down my street. Yesterday, I completed an hour of weight training. Today I ran for 20 minutes. Tomorrow, I go back for more weight training. And I remember feeling incoherent, unable to conjure of meaningful thoughts or sentences. And now, despite some potential chemo brain forgetfulness, I am back on track.

I have only just touched the surface. There is so much more to reflect on. So I plan to think more about my travels so I can better appreciate how I arrived at the exact place where I am right now -- where it's light and clear, where time passes at normal speed, where I feel lucky to be alive.