Back in the news: the link between hormone replacement therapy (HRT) and breast cancer. This time, the connection is seemingly more conclusive than before, when some argued that many factors influence the risk of breast cancer, that HRT could not do the job all on its own.

Now, two separate studies offer up powerful evidence that HRT is linked to tumor growth. Case in point: when use of the therapy drops, so do incidences of breast cancer.

New figures in the New England Journal of Medicine suggest there have been 16,000 fewer cases of breast cancer nationwide since mid-2002, when women stopped taking their hormone pills following the federal Women's Health Initiative announcement connecting the therapy with increased risk of breast cancer, stroke, and heart attack.

Many did not want to believe HRT was to blame for so many breast cancer diagnoses. And maybe it's not the actual cause of the disease, but the fuel for tumors trying to grow.

These new findings do not appear to be a statistical fluke, says one doctor. Numbers have been computed and re-computed, and the message is clear: HRT is strongly implicated as the guilty party. There is just no other culprit, says a statistician at the National Cancer Institute.

Wyeth, maker of Premarin and Prempro -- two forms of hormone therapy -- continues to caution women against drawing any conclusions about HRT and breast cancer. There still may be broader explanation for the decline in cases, say their spokespeople.

There is a downside to cancer. There's the distressing diagnosis, the shocking realization that something evil is invading cells and tissues and organs. There's surgery and treatment and loss of hair, loss of blood counts, loss of energy, loss of wellness, loss of future plans and intentions. There's the fear of recurrence and the fear of death and the fear of surviving. Cancer is dark and dismal and daunting. There is no room for argument. There is a downside to cancer.

But there is an upside to cancer too. Really, there is. And a growing body of research suggests cancer changes many people's lives -- like mine -- for the better.

"Cancer gives some survivors a renewed sense of confidence and greater appreciation for their own endurance," says one professor of medicine and public health. "The adversity of treatment may give people the sense that 'I've come through this and I'm stronger.' " Yes!

This same professor says cancer also leads survivors to question their priorities -- and to better manage them. Yes!

She also says survivors tend to find the coping strategies they develop during therapy can help them handle other life problems. Yes!

Many cancer survivors and their families turn to helping others dealing with the disease. It's part of the healing process to give back. And it feels good. Yes!

Cancer almost always is a blessing. This may not be apparent while in the trenches of a cancer fight. But when the smoke clears and the dust settles, blessings emerge. Really, they do.

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.

Ryder Cup golfer Darren Clarke lost his wife Heather to breast cancer last month. Clarke has not played competitively since July 21 when he took time off from golfing to care for his wife. Since her passing, Clarke has been thinking and regrouping and mourning the loss of his 39-year-old wife and mother of their two young sons. Now, he is ready to re-enter the world of golf. He is ready, he says, for the upcoming Ryder Cup.

Clarke says his game is good and while his decision to return to his sport was tough, he is returning only because he knows he can fully contribute. And he knows his wife would have wanted him to play so he made himself available for selection. Clarke could not have qualified automatically due to the time he took off to care for Heather but he was eligible to be selected -- and he was. Clarke is grateful and prepared for the challenge. "I am stronger altogether," he says. "I've had to face up a lot of tough things. I hope I've come through it a better person."

The most recent season of MTV's Real World/Road Rules Challenge reality show has just ended. Customary after each season finale is a reunion show -- where a sampling of contestants recap their experiences, answer questions, confirm or dispel show rumors, and update viewers on the status of their post-television lives. The winners -- a twosome who took home $250,000 -- sit front and center at the reunion and get to bask in the glory of the physical and mental prowess that allowed them to win the big bucks. Two contestants clearly won -- they have the money to prove it. But another contestant -- who didn't take home a dime -- is the true winner in my book.

Diem Brown, 25, was cast on the MTV challenge show before she knew she had ovarian cancer. But prior to the start of the show, Brown did know of her diagnosis -- and she still decided after just a few treatments to head for Australia where she competed in physical stunts and tough competitions. The producers never knew of Brown's illness and she confided in only two castmates while she battled through fatigue and nausea to complete her own personal survival mission. She succeeded -- and she returned home victorious in her own right. And she has no regrets.

On the reunion show, Brown said the show made her more fierce, that she came out of the experience a stronger person, that she tried her hardest, put everything on the line, and didn't feel sorry for herself. And it put her mindset in a great place prior to returning home for continued treatment.

And now Brown is home. She is receiving treatment. And she is managing her foundation -- Live for the Challenge -- a wedding-type registry
where patients can register for wigs, prescriptions, anything critical to the management of their illness.

Ovarian cancer affects one in 50 women, mostly in a silent fashion -- with no overt symptoms until it's often too late. And there is currently no accurate screening for this life-threatening disease that can have tragic outcomes.

Brown seems to be managing just fine with the cancer she calls "the disease that whispers." She is strong, spunky, enthusiastic and positive about life, about her future. She is clearly a winner.

In the moment of despair, the cliche time heals all wounds may seem anything but comforting. But that's because it's true. It takes time to heal and we are not in the right frame of mind just as something unfortunate has happened to accept -- or believe -- this advice that might come flowing from a well-wisher's lips. It's popular wisdom. It's commonly offered as comfort. It's easy to spit out. And while our wounds do not exactly fade with the passage of time, we are able to put a more positive spin on them. But it's tough to appreciate this until the unfortunate moment is long gone.

According to a recent study -- summarized in the September 2006 Ladies Home Journal magazine -- memories of distressing events, like the death of a loved one, don't go away but they do gradually get colored by more hopeful emotions. As time passes, we tend to remember strongly emotional experiences as positive even if they were once harrowing. "People are resilient," says one researcher. "We come to terms with our experiences in as positive a way as we can." So we may eventually see the death of a friend as something that made us stronger, something that reminds us to treasure our friendships. Our ability to find such meaning in the saddest of times helps transform it into a valuable experience -- and not just a sad one.

And this is exactly how I feel about having had cancer. No one could have convinced me at the time of my diagnosis that time would heal my wounds. I wasn't even sure how much time I had left on this planet. I was panic-stricken and frightened and tended to defeat conventional wisdom. But now that two years worth of time has passed me by and I am pretty certain I will continue surviving for a long time, I realize time is responsible for my positive outlook. Time did not completely heal my wounds -- I still have days when my wounds are raw -- but it surely bandaged them. And so I do believe time heals all wounds -- in a way -- and I am thankful for each moment of time I have to marvel at this truth.

If I could go back in time, I would not repeat my journey with breast cancer. I would choose a different path -- one free of disease and treatment and the fear that comes with it all. I would choose the route where my children would never hear me say, "mommy has cancer." The route where there would be less worry about dying, less worry about how my kids would do without me, less worry about how all my loose ends would be tied up without me here to tie them. I would choose another direction in a heartbeat. But there are some things I do treasure about my trip down breast cancer lane -- some things I do not wish to give back, even if given the chance to choose a different path. They are the hidden treasures I discovered along the way, in the midst of a harrowing, sometimes horrendous battle. There are many treasures that have come my way -- and I'm sure there are more to come. Here are seven of my valuable finds.