Here's an opportunity for you to share your personal breast cancer experiences, and help further research too.

Molly, a college student at BYU, has launched a national research project aimed at examining the relationship between couple leisure satisfaction and marital satisfaction of couples in which one spouse has breast cancer. Molly and her study partner Dr. Ramon Zabriskie hope to identify new avenues for cost effective intervention targeted at improving the quality of life for adult cancer patients and their spouses.

Both the cancer patient and spouse/partner will be asked to complete a short online questionnaire. No identifying information is required, and all responses will be kept confidential.

I think it's safe to say that a large amount of women in this world lack self confidence. Tack on a few incisions and scars, some lop-sided or altogether missing breasts, a handful of scattered blue tattoos, a head full of newly sprouting hair, swelling arms, drug-damaged fingernails and toenails, damaged veins, alien-like ports protruding from underneath skin, unpredictable hot flashes, and a foggy brain and it's clear that women surviving breast cancer may have a few of their own issues concerning self confidence. It doesn't take science to prove this reality -- although there are studies out there that do confirm and validate that breast cancer survivors struggle with positive self images.

Results of a study released Wednesday reveal that the vast majority of breast cancer patients in Taiwan lose self confidence after having their breasts removed. The study shows that 90 percent of participants feel they have lost their beauty and femininity following a mastectomy. Women worry about their partner's perception of them after such radical appearance changes. They doubt their roles in their workplace and families. They are even afraid of having sex with their partners. And if the patients' relationship with their spouses are not good in the first place, breast removal surgery will lead to divorce about 10 percent of the time.

There is no doubt that female roles vary from country to country -- and what studies show in Taiwan may not be completely applicable to women in the United States. But there is one universal truth that knows no boundaries -- all women recovering from the ravages of breast cancer will encounter struggles. Because breast cancer does not discriminate when it comes to compromising the self esteem of its targets.

Every time I hear about someone who has died from cancer, it knocks me down a notch. It makes me sad for the person, for the family, for the friends, for me -- because I know I am not guaranteed survival from cancer and while I mostly live each day as if I am immune to this tragic outcome, the knowledge that people do really die from this disease that I am trying to beat is overwhelmingly sobering. And what shakes me most is the fact that these people who die from cancer must have had the same outlook as me at some point in their journey -- the outlook of promise and hope and continued survival. And then something happens that jolts this hope from their grasp. It could happen to me -- and my family and my friends. And that scares me.

Sometime last year, my husband told me about a woman in one of his graduate classes whose husband was fighting melanoma that had spread to his brain. He was in year number eight of constant treatment -- both traditional and alternative -- and with each day, his hope for survival was fading. His wife and my husband talked at times about his journey -- and they talked about my journey with breast cancer. And after the class ended, both spouses periodically checked on each other. Today, my husband asked this woman in an e-mail about her husband. She replied and shared that he died last October. She wrote that he could not fight any longer -- that the last chemotherapy he tried to endure was too hard on him. He died with dignity. And she is proud of him. And I can't stop crying.

My tears will dry. And sadness will drift from my every thought. And I will return to my usual enthusiastic approach to surviving my own dreaded disease. But in the back of my mind, where I have saved every sad story about cancer and death, my sorrow will linger. And I suppose it should. So I can keep my sights on the possibility that surrounds me -- death -- and so I can continue living with every fiber of my being. Because living is not a guarantee. Ever.