I found David's website while researching about Glioblastoma Multiforme (GBM), the most aggressive type of brain tumor. I found his website to be very inspiring. My uncle died of GBM twenty years ago this coming holiday season. David is an 11 year survivor this year! You can visit David's website at www.davidmbailey.com.

How did you find out you had cancer?

I started getting these really bad headaches. One morning, I fell over and felt nauseous. My wife called 911 and I remember getting in the ambulance thinking it was silly. I had a small seizure in the ambulance and when we got to the ER, I had a major grand-mal seizure. They did a quick cat-scan and saw a large mass in my head so they put me on a helicopter and flew me to a bigger hospital where they operated the next morning to remove the baseball size tumor in my brain. The pathology came back with the bad news -- grade 4 glioblasoma multiform (GBM) Prognosis, 6 months to live.

What types of cancer treatments were recommended?

I originally saw a general oncologist who had one clinical trial to offer but it was a randomized study, meaning a computer would pick if I got the treatment. I thought that was stupid. Then he gave me the best advice possible -- he told me to see a NEURO oncologist -- someone who specialized in heads.

Katie is a member of the Young Survival Coalition. She agreed to do an interview about her breast cancer journey. She blogs here, when I just checked her blog she had a funny post to share about how her cleaning lady likes to party.

"i left an ativan on the bookcase last week.
she put it in the candy bowl."

How did you find out you had breast cancer?
In November 2006, I had an excisional biopsy to remove what I had been told was a fibroadenoma. A few days after the surgery I went back to the surgeon to have some stitches removed. At the time I was so convinced it was benign that I didn't think to be nervous about getting the results of the pathology report. When my surgeon told me it was cancer, I didn't get upset. I just really had no idea what "cancer" meant, as it was nothing I had ever thought about happening to me. I spent the rest of the day in shock - I didn't even cry. Incidentally, it was the same day as my nine-year anniversary with my husband. We ate a very expensive dinner in complete silence.

How do you title this?

That is how Sasha titled her post on May 9, 2006. She was diagnosed with breast cancer on May 4th. Sasha lives in Alaska and blogs Sasha's Window. She is an amazing girl and I'm really glad that I've gotten to know her. Maybe I'll visit her someday! To find out updates about Sasha visit her webpage.

Here is Sasha's first post telling about her diagnoses of breast cancer:

How do you title this?

Those of us diagnosed with cancer are not the only survivors of our diseases. Our families and friends and caregivers and even employers and co-workers survive right along with us. Sure, the facets of our survivorship vary tremendously -- but we all survive the wrath of cancer in our own unique ways.

My two little boys have spent the past two years surviving breast cancer -- my breast cancer. And while they still don't fully comprehend the magnitude of such a disease, they do understand cancer is a sickness. They understand it took my hair, made me feel sick, left me with scars, and they religiously comment on every pink ribbon they see. They call the ribbons cancer.

I am often asked how my children handled my diagnosis, my treatment, my emotions. They handled it all well, I think, and as time passes, they do better and better. In fact, cancer seems to have vanished into thin air for Joey, who will turn six on Wednesday, and Danny, who is three and a half years old. I know this because of their answers to a few questions I asked them last night, on the eve of 2007.

What was the best thing you did this year?

Joey: Swimming in the pool.
Danny: Being at school.

What was the worst thing that happened this year?

Joey: Getting that boo-boo on my foot, when it scraped on the driveway.
Danny: The cheetah that was chasing me.

What could you have done better this year?

Joey: Learning to ride my bike without training wheels.
Danny: Watching Ice Age.

What would you like to work on during this new year?

Joey: Building a better stick house.
Danny: Drinking milk.

What was the scariest thing that happened this year?

Joey: When I thought there were monsters in my room.
Danny: When there was a cheetah in my room.

What was the funniest thing that happened to you this year?

Joey: When Jack (uncle) and Bud (grandpa) tickled me.
Danny: When the cheetah was chasing me.

When I say the word Daddy, what do you think about?

Joey: Someone who makes me laugh.
Danny: no reply -- he was distracted by the movie Ice Age.

When I say the word Mommy, what do you think about?

Joey: I don't know.
Danny: no reply -- still distracted by the movie Ice Age.

What do you wish for 2007?

Joey: I wish I could fly.
Danny: I wish I could slide on a sleigh.

And that's a wrap. Not one mention of cancer. Not one response concerning endless medical appointments, my drastically different hair, or the port -- they called it a stone -- that was removed from my body in September.

There truly are more important things in life than cancer for two little boys whose memories of a horrible disease will hopefully fade with each passing year -- until not even a pink ribbon catches their attention.

Happy 2007, Joey and Danny. May all your wishes come true!

Jennifer is a young breast cancer survivor that was also faced with the diagnoses of leukemia after her breast cancer journey. Jennifer is surviving and living life to the fullest. She knows how precious life is and she wanted to share her story with us.

How did you find out you had breast cancer?

I found my lump myself when I scratched an itch on the outer part of my left breast. Within the next two weeks I had a mammogram, ultrasound and needle core biopsy. On May 16, 2002, I was diagnosed with stage 2b breast cancer. It was an aggressive tumor; it was not detected on a routine mammogram four months earlier. If it was not for the urgency of the radiologist, who is a breast cancer survivor herself, my cancer could have been diagnosed at a later stage, and I might not be here today.

Just two months after her mother lost her battle with gall bladder cancer, Liane was diagnosed with breast cancer. It all happened earlier this year -- and while Liane is still mourning the loss of her mother, she is also still managing the madness of her own disease. Liane is surviving with courage, with determination, with the same powerful spirit that powered her mother's fight.

Liane lives in a small city -- population 43,000 -- in northern Alberta Canada. She has been happily married for 18 years and has two daughters, ages 13 and 15, and a golden retriever named Sunny. Liane loves to garden, cook, read, and spend time with family. She normally works full-time in a real estate and property management office but has been blessed with six months off for treatment. Liane is already -- without a doubt -- a survivor.

There is a lot of breast cancer awareness out there. Some believe it's too much. Some say it's overboard. Some wish breast cancer could share some of the spotlight with all the other cancers -- those struggling for a little more funding, a little more research, a little more air time. Is it possible there could be more awareness for the disease that corners the market on all things pink? Yes. It's possible. And it's necessary too.

As long as women are dying of breast cancer -- in 2006, breast cancer will kill about 40,000 women in the United States -- there is cause for more awareness. And each October -- Breast Cancer Awareness Month -- breast cancer information bombards us all. Annoying as it may seem, the reminders that flow from breast cancer campaigns are truly critical. Reminders about self exams and mammograms and early detection and risk factors and new developments can save lives. They do save lives. And while we should all hope other cancers -- that are just as serious, just as widespread, just as life-threatening -- one day receive the attention they deserve, we should still not pass on opportunities to hop on the breast cancer bandwagon. There is still a lot of road to cover, a lot of progress to be made.

Hopefully, breast cancer awareness stays on the radar. Hopefully, reminders continue to keep charging at us. Day after day. October after October. Until breast cancer is a thing of the past.

Cynthia Yousefi is a wife and mother of three living in Granada Hills, CA. She is 42 years old and works as an analyst for a Federal agency. She and her family enjoy trips to Harrah's Rincon Casino in San Diego -- and while the destination is a favorite, the sights along the way also bring them pleasure. Cynthia enjoys museums and amusement parks and swimming and evening walks. She enjoys a lot these days because she feels she's been given a second chance at life -- now that she is surviving breast cancer.

Deb is a special friend of mine, or as Deb would say we are bosom buddies. We first met online on the Young Survival Coalition (YSC) message boards and then face to face at the YSC conference. We were diagnosed with breast cancer within days of one another. Deb has two sons, Max who is six and Ben who is eight. She is working towards her Masters in public health and is heavily involved with breast cancer advocacy and support programs.

Jennifer is a breast cancer survivor that blogs Jennlovey. Jennifer is thirty seven years old and she has three sisters. She is also an identical twin. She works at an insurance agency and is very active in her church. Jennifer is married to the man of her dreams, Scott and they have three great children, Sara, Chloe and Delaney. Jennifer is very active in anything that promotes breast cancer awareness.

Kim Taylor is a 45-year-old single mother who lives in Suwannee County, Florida and is proud to have successfully raised one daughter -- a graduate of the University of Florida. Kim enjoys outdoor activities like camping as well as sewing, crafting, and carpentry projects. She is most at peace spending time with her family, working as a youth volunteer -- and raising awareness for breast cancer. It's a interest she acquired just two years ago, compliments of a personal encounter with the disease that has taught her to let the little things go, to appreciate every sunrise, to make every moment matter.