Yesterday afternoon, a Canadian hockey team with a roster of seven and eight-year-old boys sported pink socks, pink jerseys, and pink hockey sticks in an effort to raise money for Breast Cancer Action of Ottawa -- a group dedicated to raising awareness and providing support for those affected by breast cancer.

The color pink was a non-issue for the little boys asked to do their best to help others.

"I'm excited about playing in pink," said one eight-year-old decked out in the breast cancer color to support his aunt, who is currently battling the disease.

One hockey mom says it was surprisingly easy to convince the boys to wear pink uniforms.

"They told me that real men wear pink," she said.

And so pink is what they wore on this special day -- it was Hockey Day in Canada, when Canada's national game is celebrated throughout the country -- and raise funds is what they did. In fact, the team was overwhelmed by the amount of donations received and the special items given for use in a silent auction. A jersey signed by Dany Heatley of the Ottawa Senators, a jersey signed by Wayne Gretzky, and two tickets to a Senators hockey game top the list of generous offerings.

These little boys reached their goal -- they raised awareness, and they raised money. Yes, indeed, real men do wear pink.

Just before my radiation therapy began, my oncologist ran through a long list of potential side effects I might experience from the treatment. The only two significant short-term possibilities were fatigue and burned, blistered skin -- I went on to encounter them both -- but there were other more long-term effects my doctor told me might one day creep up on me.

She told me the range of motion in my arm might be compromised -- it was -- and that lymphedema or swelling could occur -- not yet -- and that I could feel numbness and tingling in my arm -- I do -- and that I should forever take precautions on the left side of my body. No needle sticks, no blood pressure cuffs, no excessive lifting -- all because of radiation and the missing lymph nodes that further complicate matters.

My doctor also told me that while radiation would target one intended area -- my left breast, just where my cancer was found -- other areas would suffer some degree of exposure. My heart, my lung, and my ribs all bordered the location of my tumor and despite measures to protect these areas, they would be zapped, at least minimally.

This all seemed a bit overwhelming 18 months ago when it came barreling at me. But something fortunate happened with the passage of time -- I began to forget about most of this. And while this a blessing really -- to not be burdened by the what ifs -- I realized yesterday when my three-year-old son kicked me with all the force he could muster right in my ribcage that I really must remember the side effects of radiation -- because they could serve to haunt me at any moment.

I remember clearly now my oncologist telling me that my ribcage could be damaged by radiation in such a way that an injury to the area could easily result in broken ribs. But I don't think about this regularly. And I wasn't thinking of it when I snuggled up to my 35-pound baby boy, knowing full well he could strike at any time. But not until he struck did I recall one of the downsides of radiation.

I feel happy and healthy and strong. Like cancer never landed in my lap and threw me for a loop. But somewhere in the back of my chemo brain -- an entirely different side effect story -- I must remember the dangers of the treatments that are keeping me alive. Because the last thing I want is another complication from cancer. I just want smooth sailing -- and smooth snuggling.

This is my port. It looks to me like a bottle cap sewn under the skin on my chest. My son Joey -- he is five years old --  calls it my stone and his brother Danny -- he just turned three -- at one time thought everyone must have this same boo-boo. He would look for it, feel for it, hunt for it. But mine is the only port he could actually locate and now that he's getting older, he is not so concerned with it anymore.

My concern about the port is that everyone who needs chemotherapy should have one. It's the alternative to receiving IV sticks in the arms and hands and except for one quick stick that can sting -- I use a 5% lidocaine numbing cream prior to my infusion and with this miracle lotion, I don't feel a thing -- it is quick and painless. My port is a one-stop shop. Once accessed, blood can be drawn, drugs and fluids can be infused, shots can be injected, and at the end of treatment, an injection of blood thinner keeps the line clear and clean. The line attached to the port underneath my skin travels into large veins in a direct and efficient manner. While hospitalized for chemo-induced fever and low blood counts, I received antibiotics and a blood transfusion through this method. There was one stick when I was admitted and for my five-day stay, I never had to be poked again.

My port, called Infuse-a-Port®, was implanted during a minor outpatient surgery with use of a local anesthesia and it was ready for use immediately after the procedure.

My port has been used for 16 months now and will no longer be necessary at the end of July -- this is when the last drops of Herceptin will sail through my veins. Then I get to decide whether to keep my port or have it removed. It can stay for many years as long as it is flushed once each month. The superstitious part of me thinks I should keep it for future use -- if necessary -- and the rational part of me thinks I need to get rid of this bottle cap because I may never need it again. Regardless, I love my port. It has eased the discomfort of chemotherapy and for that, I am grateful.

A new, and potentially effective drug, to help cigarette smokers quit smoking has been fast tracked for approval by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration. Chantix, varenicline tartrate, works in ways that previous smoking cessation drugs did not, and might lead to a higher success rate where the other drugs have failed.

Chantix acts at the areas of the brain affected by nicotine and helps those who smoke cigarettes to quit smoking in two ways: by providing some nicotine effects to ease the withdrawal symptoms and by blocking the effects of nicotine from cigarettes if they start smoking again.

"Cigarette smoking is a very difficult habit to break due in large part to nicotine dependence or addiction," said Dr. Steven Galson, Director of FDA's Center for Drug Evaluation and Research. "Chantix therapy has proven to be effective in smokers motivated to quit and will provide another tool for physicians to use for the millions of smokers who want to quit."

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, an estimated 44.5 million adults in the United States smoke cigarettes and more than 8.6 million of them have at least one serious illness caused by smoking. Chantix should be available later this year. I think the operative word here is motivated to quit smoking. Addiction is a complex physical, mental, emotional and spiritual problem. A magic pill to make the addiction go away would be nice. I am not so sure I believe in that kind of magic -- although I am relatively certain it will help some smokers quit smoking.

UPDATE: Chantix: quit smoking drug now available in US pharmacies.