This week was my turn to cover our Survivor Spotlight feature. I perhaps naively thought that I would have no trouble finding a survivor to talk to because there are so many survivors out there and it seemed that most of them were more than happy to tell their story in the hopes of helping others. But many of the women did not feel comfortable talking about it -- mainly because they didn't want to dredge up the past, to think about a time in their life that was difficult and trying, especially with a stranger. Their hesitance is understandable, but also came as a surprise to me because I assumed that most people who had bravely stared death in the face and won would make it their mission to inspire others.

Gilda's Club Delaware Valley and the YSC Community Volunteer Group (CVG) of Greater Philadelphia proudly present a lecture: "Talking to Kids About Cancer."

When: Tuesday, June 26th from 6:30-8:00 p.m.
Where: Gilda's Club Delaware Valley, 200 Kirk Road, Warminster, PA 18974

Children may be quiet, children may be outspoken, but all children have questions. We want to give them the best answers we can. Learn how to talk to kids about cancer, how to address the easy questions and the tough ones. Light refreshments will be provided.

Please RSVP to Cathy at 215-441-3290 ext. 115. For more information and driving directions, visit the Gilda's Club Delaware Valley website.

Today, I've been asked twice to offer more specifics about the information contained in posts. I thought I'd communicate my thoughts on this matter publicly so you all may benefit.

First, let me share that blogging is like talking to a friend -- Hey, did you hear about that new study about the breast cancer vaccine?, I might say to my neighbor before I explain the overall gist of the news I happened upon. The purpose of blogging is to communicate a few details and to spark interest, not to capture every speck of information on the topic. Digging up the nitty gritty is for you, the reader.

Your quest for more knowledge takes just one click. Once you read a post, look to the bottom left and you will see a blue link titled Read. Click here and you'll land at the news source related to the post. If you don't find what you're looking for here, just type some key words into Google and search for more. If bloggers happen to find news but there is no internet link -- this happens with magazines and other print publications -- the source will be noted at the end of the post.

If a post contains personal perspective, like this one, you won't find a Read link -- that's because the source is in the blogger's head. You are welcome to leave a comment requesting more information about these posts.

Now this whole lesson on the Read link does not mean you cannot ask questions of bloggers -- please do -- but if you desire the quickest route to post details, this link is your best bet.

I hope this is clear. And I hope you find exactly what you seek in this world where cancer is one hot topic.

Support group facilitator and social worker Susan Abrams gives you the inside scoop on support groups and what to expect if you join.

Support groups may not be for everyone but each year thousands of women diagnosed with breast cancer join a support groups to help them cope with the disease. Some are informal gatherings and some are facilitated by a trained professional.

Years ago no one discussed breast cancer and women felt isolated. They had to deal with breast cancer completely on their own. These days women have many outlets for talking about their breast cancer, some women however still remain isolated and would benefit from joining a support group.

Some support groups might be larger and have a guest speaker on occasion to discuss specific topics. Some women like to use a support group for a year or longer after their cancer diagnosis. Usually at this time the patient doesn't want to discuss their breast cancer with friends and family, who may have had enough of the subject. They feel comfortable discussing their fears and concerns with other survivors.

Some benefits of joining a support group:

• help in coping with the disease.
• hear new information to discuss with your physician.
• hear of new treatments or clinical trials.
• reduce stress.
• receive understanding.
• emotional support.

Why you might not want to join a support group:

• you feel that you would benefit more from one on one therapy.
• you find others stories make you more anxiety-provoking than helpful.
• you are too fragile to see someone in worse shape.
• you might begin to doubt your own decisions when listening to others.
• someone in the group could die which could bring on anxiety and fear.

The best way to find a support group is through your physician. Hospital-based support groups are usually very good. Trust your instincts when looking for a group, if you don't feel comfortable with one, try and find one that feels more fitting.

I went out to lunch with my husband and kids yesterday. Sitting right behind us in the restaurant was a woman wearing a white hat, worn to mask an obvious bald head. My two little boys kept watching this woman, my littlest turning in his seat to get the best possible view. These boys, ages five and three, were not looking at this woman because a bald head is an odd sight in a public venue. They were looking because, to them, a bald head is familiar. And I think they were sizing up this woman, recalling what I once cleverly hid -- my own bald head.

We all noticed the woman in her white hat. But we handled our observations differently. My husband chose to focus on the task at hand -- eating. My boys chose to stare. I chose to contemplate.

I contemplated talking to this woman. I always have this urge -- to talk with others I suspect are fighting cancer -- and I always wonder if it's appropriate to approach strangers to discuss such a personal topic. Do I have a free pass to enter another's cancer world because I myself have membership in the same world? Perhaps. Perhaps not. So when faced with a possible cancer survivor -- marked mostly by a bald head -- I usually hesitate, contemplate, and then do nothing other than quietly consider what life might be like for the person who faces me.

Maybe I lack courage and should find a way to connect with these strangers. It may do us all a bit of good. Maybe courage has nothing to do with it. Maybe I refrain from conversation out of respect for each person's privacy. I am not convinced either way.

For now, I think I'll stick with what works, what feels safe -- observation and contemplation. And maybe next time I'm in a restaurant and notice someone strikingly familiar, I'll take a stab at my husband's approach -- just simply eating.

I never predicted counseling would be part of my treatment for cancer. I am well-acquainted with the practice of talk therapy -- I have a graduate degree in counselor education and spent seven years counseling college students with presenting issues such as roommate conflicts, alcohol use and abuse, sexual assault, and depression -- but I never envisioned myself on the receiving end of such a relationship, never imagined I would be the one prescribed an anti-depressant and referred for cognitive-behavioral therapy.

Yet I have spent the past two years talking candidly -- and at times weeping uncontrollably -- with a talented young woman who has given me the tools to cope with life in the aftermath of a cancer diagnosis. And on Tuesday, the culmination of these two years will result in one final session. Together, my counselor and I will recount what has happened to me, how I have handled it, how I will proceed for the rest of my life.

At the end of my one-hour session on Tuesday, I will be set free. I will walk the white, sterile halls of a hospital basement, travel in an elevator up one flight, and exit a building I never knew could become so familiar. I will allow the outdoors to greet me, and for the very first time since cancer invaded my life, I will accept the challenge of living forward -- without the therapy that helped save my life.

On Tuesday, my case will be closed. On Tuesday, a new version of my life begins.

Ann Richards was the Governor of Texas from 1991 to 1995. She was only the second woman to hold that post. In March of his year she said she was being treated for esophageal cancer. She passed away at the age of 73.

Ann Richards seemed like a spunky lady. When she was nearing sixty she rode a Harley-Davidson motorcycle because she said "I thought I needed to do something kind of jazzy." Ann didn't start her political career until she was in her 40's. She won a seat on the Travis County commission in Austin in 1976.

The 1988 Democratic National Convention is when Ann burst onto the scene. At the keynote address she famously described the syntax-challenged Republican presidential nominee, George H.W. Bush, this way: "Poor George. He can't help it. He was born with a silver foot in his mouth."

She eventually was defeated for the re-election of Governor by Bush's son, and future president, George W. Bush. That was the last time she ran for office. She then worked as consultant and commentator and she served on corporate boards.

One quote she liked that she said summed up the aspiration of women in politics: "Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels."

When I first started going to counseling, I was told I would need eight to 10 sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy to help me deal with my anxiety, my panic, my fear of breast cancer recurrence. My first session was in May 2005 -- and I am still going. Those initial sessions are possibly all I really needed -- and perhaps I could have stopped the therapy long ago. But stopping never came up and no one told me I had to call it quits so I kept on marching into territory I had never before traveled. I have a degree in counseling -- but I'd never been counseled. I know how to listen to others and share empathy and ask open-ended questions -- but I'd never been the one talking and sharing and venting and crying and answering questions. Until last May -- when I discovered the appeal and the comfort of the counseling chair.

I marched into one of my sessions yesterday and plopped into a brown faux leather recliner. I talked about my recent graduation from Herceptin therapy and about how I might manage in life now that treatment is over. I talked about my jobs -- as a writer and a preschool teacher -- and how they fit into my world. I talked about the level of stress in my days and about how my once constant fear that cancer was trailing me has largely diminished. I talked about how breast cancer is no longer my constant companion -- about how it is now just an acquaintance. And I talked about how counseling was once so necessary and about how it is now just a luxury that helps me maintain peace as I live forward.

I am not sure when I will stop going to counseling. But I'm not completely sure of much anymore. And I've learned from counseling to not really question the future -- to just live in the moment and to give thought primarily to the here and now. And right here, right now, I'm sticking with my sessions, my one hour every month, my comforting counseling chair.

Cell phone users in the United States have increased from 34 million a decade ago to more than 203 million this year. The cell phone is the invention people hate the most but can't live without even beating out the television. The old American Express saying, "Don't leave home without it" takes on a new meaning with the amount of use cell phones have in our world. Over the years concerns have escalated about if cell phones can cause brain cancer. 20/20 even did a show on that same subject back in 1999.

Although cell phone manufactures claim the phones are safe and will not cause brain cancer, it is a known fact that electromagnetic waves can penetrate the brain while holding the phone to your head. Thus the major increase in sales for cell phone head sets.

One fact is for sure about cell phones and that is the correlation between using cell phones while you drive causing more automobile accidents with injury and death. The statistic has increased so much that it is now being watched more closely than drivers under the influence of alcohol or drugs and some states are now making it illegal to drive and talk on a phone at the same time while holding it in your hand. Some studies are now showing that it doesn't matter if you hold it or talk while using head phones, the concentration levels of drivers are still more impaired than those drivers that drive while under the influence.

So you make the decision with your own common sense whether to use a headset or not while talking on your cell phone and whether or not  to avoid talking on the phone while driving. Of course some states will give you a ticket if you make the wrong decision on the last choice.

My friend called me last night as she was having a miscarriage. She had been to the doctor, heard no heartbeat, and learned via ultrasound that her baby had stopped thriving weeks ago. Her doctors told her what to expect -- bleeding and cramping and contractions and possibly a D & C -- and she was experiencing some of these inevitable symptoms as we spoke on the phone. My friend called me because the same thing happened to me six years ago -- and when she remembered this, she dialed the phone from a state thousands of miles away. And despite our distance, our connection was close enough for comfort.

I will share anything and everything about my own experience with breast cancer -- how I found it, how it was removed, how it was treated, how I fared through the whole ordeal, how I'm surviving now. I figure that if I spread the word about what happened to me, that others will become more aware and some -- especially those with a new diagnosis -- will benefit from whatever wisdom I have to impart. So I am an open book. I talk about breast cancer, answer questions about breast cancer, and probably insert my opinion about the topic to some who don't really care. But I will continue talking and sharing -- and writing -- because the alternative would be a disservice to the few I may be able to help.

So a card stuck in the middle of a magazine caught my eye the other day. The slogan on it reads, Tell Someone and the illustrations on this card -- that functions as a postcard -- show women reaching out to other women. There are women talking on the phone and a woman tapping another on the shoulder. The message they appear to be spreading is highlighted in the text below the graphic representation of this campaign to raise awareness of cervical cancer. The message is about HPV -- human papillomavirus -- and about how millions of women already have it and how some don't even know they have it. I learned from reading this card that for some, HPV will clear on its own. But for some, cervical cancer may develop. This is why Pap tests are critical. And so what all women should be telling other women is this -- ask your doctor about the importance of Pap tests. And be active in your own health. And follow all recommendations for detecting health concerns early. I learned from reading this card that I should tell someone about this. And so now I have.

Hearing the words "You have cancer" is a traumatic experience for most adults. Having to tell your loved ones and friends that you have cancer is just as hard. Being a parent and having to tell your young child that you have cancer is one of the toughest conversations many adults face. The American Cancer Society reports that one in seven women in the U.S. will develop breast cancer during their lifetime, and roughly a quarter of them will do so while they still have children living at home. That is just one statistic of one form of cancer and there are more to consider. 

So what do you tell your young child and how much detail should you get into? Most children have seen commercials, heard conversations, experienced some form of educational material on the subject already. Should you tell the truth, hide some facts, or try to avoid letting them know all together?

Wendy Schlessel Harpham, MD wrote a book called When a Parent Has Cancer: A Guide to Caring for Your Children. In this book she states that one of the biggest mistake parents make is trying to hide the truth from their children. "Even small children will figure out that something is wrong, even if you don't tell them," she says. "Kids are observant and smart, and if you give them too little information they will try to figure it out on their own. If you don't tell them, you lose control and you are less able to guide the child through the changes in their world in healthy and hopeful ways."

Telling the truth, giving them understanding and the support they need, and educating them about your cancer may be the toughest conversations you will ever have in your life, but it will help you and your child in gaining the confidence to cope with the challenges that you both will face.

The Secret Language of Girlfriends: Talking Loudly, Laughing Wildly, and Making the Most of Our Most Important Friendships, written by the queen of comfort Karen Neuburger, is a book sharing the funny, enlightening, uplifting and sometimes sad stories of women and how no matter what happens in the life of a woman -- she can always count on her girlfriends to be there. Neuburger chronicles the stages of a woman's life -- from child rearing and workplace bonding to menopause and beyond. The book contains party ideas, recipes, crafts and craft disasters, and the ceremonies women use to cement and celebrate their friendships. The last chapter is devoted to daughters and how mothers pass the secret language of girlfriends to the next generation --  a group of girlfriends who totally have your back but always put you out in front.

A portion of book profits go to The Breast Cancer Research Foundation, in honor of girlfriends everywhere. While it is a last-minute gift idea for Mother's Day, it is an excellent gift idea for mom any day of the week. Right after you give your mother a copy of this book, tell her about The Secret Language of Girlfriends website, where she can find the Broad Squad, book clubs, newsletter, and other fun.