"This is shocking. Having cancer should not cost you your home," states Macmillan Cancer Support's General Manager for Wales, Cath Lindley. For six percent of cancer patients, loss of home follows a diagnosis of cancer. In number, six percent represents approximately 15,000 people. For those who are self-employed, 11 percent lose their home. Another 18 percent face devastating financial hardship and desperately struggle to make the rent or mortgage payment.

What's going on? Cancer treatment can be debilitating and require the patient to take time off from work. Some cancer patients lose their job. Factor in increased medical costs including prescription drugs, special diets and transportation costs and it becomes a recipe for financial disaster, and ultimately, homelessness.

UK's Macmillan Cancer Support has launched Hitting Home, and in partnership with Shelter, a national housing charity program, to offer help to cancer patients who are in a financial bind as a result of a cancer diagnosis and treatment.

The Hitting Home program offers these tips for cancer patients facing financial difficulties:

• Talk to your mortgage lender and explain -- you may be able to switch to an interest only mortgage, defer payments or take a mortgage break. Or talk to your landlord and explain your situation.
• Check your insurance policies. You may find your rent or mortgage is covered.
• You might be entitled to claim benefits such as disability living allowance, income support, or housing tax benefit.

The tips are useful for anyone, regardless of the country in which they live. However, if you live in the UK, visit Macmillan Cancer Support for contact numbers and direct assistance.

I spend 10.5 hours every weekday on my own with some combination of my two little boys. My day starts each morning and extends through meals and playtime and laughs and tears and fights and struggles and snuggles -- but never a nap -- and even a part-time preschool job where one or two boys always tag along. Sometimes I try to write during the day while my boys are happy and occupied. Typically, I don't accomplish much. Interruptions are endless -- as they should be for a mostly stay-at-home mom who chooses to devote her daytime hours to raising children.

And so I go it alone until dinner time when my husband returns from work and selflessly takes over and sets me free. He cooks, serves, and cleans up dinner. He plays and entertains and wrestles and heads up bath and book time. And then he transports each boy on his back to their respective beds.

During my moments of freedom each evening, I lose myself in my thoughts -- and I begin to write. I love my mommy job -- and wouldn't trade it for any other full-time job -- but I also love being alone. And I love writing.

Helen Keller said, "I must have something besides husband and children, something I can devote myself to! I want to go on living even after my death! And therefore, I am grateful to God for giving me this gift, this possibility of developing myself, and of writing, of expressing all that is within me."

Writing -- mostly about cancer -- helps me develop my surviving self. It helps me express all that is within me. And maybe it's fitting that I don't get too much time to dwell on the disease that consumed me for two years. If I had to choose between two busy boys and a life busy with cancer, I'd take two boys in an instant. At the end of the day, a little bit of writing about a little of cancer suits me just fine.

It's day 15 in this Breast Cancer Awareness Month and the survivors spotlighted on this site are stacking up. Yet we've only just scratched the surface of breast cancer survivor stories. And by the end of October, we will have only featured a very small sample of survivors everywhere. There are countless others with their own powerful stories. It's sad there are so many stories shaped by breast cancer. It's empowering too -- because breast cancer survivors are a passionate bunch. They are passionate in their fights, passionate in their beliefs, passionate in their willingness to help others.

A passionate bunch of survivors can be found here on The Cancer Blog. They are all women, of various ages, with various backgrounds, defined by different experiences. They are also quite the same -- for they have all been touched by breast cancer. And their words of wisdom are strikingly similar, despite the contrast in characteristics that define these women and their very individual battles with breast cancer.

Here are seven survivor similarities worth spotlighting.

In July 2005, Amy Wilson was diagnosed with breast cancer. In the months that followed, Amy endured a lumpectomy, a mastectomy, reconstruction, and chemotherapy. In January 2006, Amy's treatment ended. And she set off on a journey of survivorship.

In August 2006, Amy found out her cancer had spread to her brain and lungs. Her doctors gave her two to 12 months to live. On Thursday, October 5, 2006, Amy died. She was 35 years old.

Amy became my friend shortly after her original diagnosis and eight months after my own breast cancer diagnosis. A mutual friend brought us together and for a little more than one year, we shared a rich connection, cemented in shared struggles and victories. Through phone conversations and e-mail exchanges and cards and gifts sent through the mail, Amy and I shared a special friendship. But I never looked Amy in the eye, never offered her a hug, never met her husband and children. I knew her only from a distance. Still, our partnership was powerful. It was comforting. And sadly, it is over.

Our same mutual friend called me Friday morning to tell me Amy had passed away -- a mere 15 months after her battle began, three months shy of the end-of-treatment anniversary she happily anticipated, five years from the age of 40 -- the age she had determined would mark her first true survivor milestone.

I miss Amy. I miss the pieces of hope that vanished with her death. I miss that I never met her, never hugged her, never said goodbye.

Amy, whose journey was chronicled in her local Ohio newspaper, is survived by her husband, her two children -- Luke, age five and Ella, age two -- and among others, her mother, who is currently fighting her own breast cancer battle.

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.

I read something yesterday written by a reporter who is fed up with the treatment of celebrities in the media. She is tired of the spectacular headlines about babies born to celebrities and adoptions by celebrities and every-day struggles of celebrities that blur the fact that these same things happen to real people -- non-celebrities -- and are rarely covered in the news. Sure, some of the celebrity coverage may lead to awareness. The fact that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are talking of adopting another child may encourage others in the world to reach out to homeless children. But where is the news about hoards of women who gather and walk in search of a cure for breast cancer? And why was the coming-out announcement by former In Sync band member Lance Bass the top news story on CNN the other day? Because people pay attention to announcements like these -- and however disturbing it may be -- is causes a stir. And perhaps, like this reporter says, others will gain some strength from Bass and will tackle their own sexual orientation more openly.

A news story caught my attention the other night. Not because of the news -- initially -- but because of the names that were thrown around. Names like Kelly Ripa and Lindsey Lohan and Molly Shannon -- names that were not all that important in the scheme of the story I would eventually hear. But they hooked me. And then I learned about a great event that took place last Saturday in an effort to raise funds for ovarian cancer.

Super Saturday is a day-long summer fundraising event for the entire family -- created by Donna Karan and sponsored by In Style magazine. The day features a designer garage sale with more than 200 designers, a raffle, a carnival for kids, food and refreshments, and goodie bags. All proceeds -- from ticket sales and the garage sale and raffles -- go to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. Last year's event raised $2 million. And this year, the tally for the ninth annual event that took place in the Hamptons, is yet to be reported. What was reported is that the event was a success -- and celebrities were in attendance. And that made me pay attention.

My brother-in-law came up to me tonight with his iPod and handed me his headsets. A cue to put them on, I guessed -- and so I did. A song played and right away I liked what I heard. It was the exact type of music I like -- with a grungy, rock kind of sound. I figured Jack knows what I like and was sharing a new song with me. Which he was -- but there was something more to it. It wasn't just a good song -- it was a good song about cancer, with a message of hope and strength and living through the struggles of a life that has been shaken. Written by Scott Leger of the Austin-based band wideawake, Maybe Tonight, Maybe Tomorrow is dedicated to the millions of people affected by cancer -- those who have lost, those who have survived, those who fight and volunteer and support and research and raise awareness and give and inspire. And for those without cancer too really. For anyone who is faced with forces that threaten the most precious of assets -- time.

I found Sark long ago -- about 10 years ago when I was working with college students on a campus in Virginia. Part of my job was supervising Resident Assistants -- students who live and work on the residence hall floors and are responsible for building community among residents -- advising them and counseling them and mentoring them and stepping in when conflict and trouble arises. It's a tough job -- being a peer and being in charge at the same time -- and Resident Assistants receive intensive training on how to best manage a floor of students possibly living away from home for the first time. I got to train these student leaders at times -- and Sark's books helped me motivate, inspire, and get to know these individuals. And over the years, as I assumed other jobs and roles and purposes, I found that Sark was still a great companion for me. And now I realize that what Sark has to offer really applies to anyone looking for a little inspiration, a little direction, a little creativity, a little delight.