Just recently, European researchers announced that MRI scans offer a new way to detect breast cancer in its earliest form. They can even prevent cancer among high-risk women.

Better than standard mammograms, MRI can detect a nonmalignant tumor called ductal carcinoma in-situ, or DCIS. Once found, the lesion can be surgically removed before it becomes cancerous.

Think about this: It is believed that almost all breast cancer starts out as DCIS. And this: if MRI were the gold standard breast cancer screening tool, we might be able to prevent a lot more breast cancer cases than we do now. It seems researchers agree.

Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) showed in a study presented at the 2007 annual meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology to be better at detecting ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) than mammograms. MRI's were also shown to be very good at detecting high grade DCIS.

Women are recommended by the American Cancer Society to get an annual mammogram after the age of 40, do clinical breast exams starting in your 20's and if you are in a high risk group to receive annual screening with a breast MRI.

In a study among almost 6,000 women who were screened with both MRI and mammography, MRI detected 92 percent of DCIS cases where mammography only detected 56 percent of cases diagnosed.

UK researchers have developed a 3D laboratory model of human breast cancer, specifically ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS). The model, complete with normal cells and tumor cells, should help experts understand how the disease develops in its early stages, and it could replace the need for experiments in animals.

About one in five breast cancers in the UK start out as DCIS. Researchers wanted to learn more about how the early cancerous changes in cells develop into larger tumors, and they chose to fashion a 3D test tube model because it is more complex than a layer of cells in a Petri dish.

Once this experiment is proved successful, it could reduce and perhaps replace animal studies.

"With breast cancer, there is an urgent need to move away from animal research models because their similarity to human cancer can be so poor," says one expert who explains this model could help revolutionize breast cancer research -- because unreliable research costs time, money, and lives, both animal and human lives.

Battling cancer can at times feel like slowly paddling upstream against currents that are both forceful and unforgiving. Sometimes reprieve comes only when we find others in the same boat, others submerged in their own rough waters, others who truly know what it's like to navigate a dreadful disease.

I am lucky -- in an odd sort of cancer way -- because I had breast cancer. Many women have breast cancer. And while this really is a horrible fact, it makes for a great sea of support. At times when I felt I was drowning in cancer, I reached for my lifeguards -- the women who paddled before me, the women paddling alongside me -- and they coached me, guided me, saved me from one the worst side effects of cancer. Isolation.

I have rarely felt isolated in my cancer journey and as a result, I have not thought much about this lonely cancer consequence. But I am thinking about it now -- thanks to a reader who has courageously shared her story with me, in hopes of locating someone in her same boat, in hopes of creating connections with other survivors who share the challenges of her disease.

Tanya has anal cancer. She was diagnosed one year ago -- during a routine colonoscopy -- with squamous cell carcinoma in-situ in her anal canal, on the wall between the anus and vagina. Previous abdominal discomfort, much like dull menstrual pain, preceded Tanya's screening but she was sure it was due to menopause. She was 53 at the time.

But it wasn't menopause. It was cancer. And it was devastating for Tanya who was spared radical surgery in exchange for a combination of radiation and a chemotherapy called the Nigro Protocol. First came a mitomycin push followed by four to five days of 5-Fluorouracil. Radiation came next -- for six weeks -- and then Tanya endured another round of the same chemotherapy regimen.

"The treatment was brutal," Tanya says. "By the end of the sixth week, I was in a lot of pain, especially since the affected area had a lot of traffic and could not exactly be decommissioned and allowed to heal."

Although she was told by her oncologist she tolerated her treatment well, Tanya says it was pure hell.

Tanya's treatment ended in March and an August biopsy revealed she is doing just fine. Her cancer appears to be gone. What is not gone, however, is the discomfort that still plagues her -- both physically and emotionally. And while the physical scars are simply terrible -- she feels pain during urination and bowel movements and is currently unable to have intercourse with her knight-in-shining-armor husband -- the emotional isolation is overwhelming distressing.

"I have not shared this experience with too many people since I feel awkward discussing that part of my anatomy and because the condition is so uncommon," Tanya says. "I would, however, be most grateful to discuss any or all of this with someone who has been through the same experience."

If you have been in Tanya's same cancer boat, have paddled similar waters, or know someone with whom she might connect, please consider contacting this brave survivor at sultana@cyberight.net.