I'm sad, worried, and frustrated because of what happened to me at the beach this past weekend. I got burned. Really burned.

I thought I did everything right. I applied sunscreen, even had my husband coat my back, shoulders, and hard-to-reach spots with the powerful lotion intended to block the sun's most damaging rays. I sat underneath an umbrella while watching my boys, their own pale bodies slathered in a baby sunblock potion, as they jumped, ran, and bounced in the waves. I reapplied my sunscreen after a short stint in the pool and a stroll on the sand left my skin feeling tender. Still, I sizzled. My back is red, the skin underneath my suit straps white as can be in contrast to the bright color it borders, My chest is red and sore and itchy with bumps.

I feel sick, like I've exponentially upped my risk for skin cancer. As a cancer survivor, I feel particularly vulnerable. I not only fear a return of breast cancer, you see. I fear other cancers too. My ultra white skin already puts me at risk for sun damage. My past forays into sunbathing don't help. What happened this weekend, I'm afraid, makes things worse.

I took my boys yesterday for a tour of the University of Florida's Department of Entomology and Nematology. Translation for these little boys -- ages five and three -- involves one simple word. Bugs. They love bugs, hunt for bugs, capture bugs, and reluctantly set them free because I coax them into allowing these itty bitty creatures to continue living with their "mommies and daddies." I have a soft spot for all living beings -- bugs included.

We learned some crazy facts about bugs yesterday -- insects is the proper term really. We learned there is one cockroach that can live for seven days without its head. We learned there are two types of Madagascar cockroaches living in a lab in the very same building we visited that if set free, would reproduce so quickly they would become a major pest problem in the state of Florida. And we learned that of all animals on this planet, most are insects. But not only did we learn some crazy facts, we -- well, Joey -- shared a crazy fact too.

Joey is five years old. He is the boy who remembers much of my breast cancer journey. He is the one who helped shave my head, the one who thought a banana would make my sick tummy feel better. He's the one who would blurt out to people we never knew very well, "My mommy is bald," the one who asked me just last night if the metal thing -- my port -- was still in my chest. When I told him it's gone, he jumped up and announced, "Yeah, it's gone!" Cancer is one of many vocabulary words housed in Joey's brain. And sometimes the word comes up unexpectedly, in strange contexts, in surprising ways. Like today.

Our bug tour guide told us that in Africa, mosquitoes transmit diseases that kill millions of people. But those with sickle cell anemia are immune to the deadly diseases due to their compromised red blood cells that somehow fend off disease. This fact prompted Joey to share with the guide, "Did you know when people have cancer, there are bugs that can kill the cancer?" Our guide listened to this crazy fact and said in a kid-friendly way, "No, I did not know that. Who told you that?" Joey told her, "I don't remember but someone told me."

I am not sure what prompted Joey to make this announcement. Perhaps he was trying to one-up the tour guide, to sound like an expert on one of his favorite subjects. Perhaps his imagination was in overdrive and he blurted out the best story he could offer. Perhaps he jumbled up a story he had heard on the topic of cancer. And perhaps he is just simply hopeful that one day, bugs will help cure cancer. And wouldn't that be nice -- a simple mosquito comes along, pierces the skin, and poof, cancer is gone.

My cancer journey would not be nearly as interesting, as enlightening, as tender if Joey was not along with me for the ride. He keeps me busy and keeps my spirits up. He keeps me grounded and keeps life simple. Best of all -- he keeps me laughing.

KrisTv has published a feature story on Vicki Barrilleaux, a colon cancer survivor, who has started a colon cancer awareness and screening group in Corpus Christi Texas, and who claims Katie Couric saved her life.

"Everything I knew prior to my diagnosis was what I had heard from her because of her husband," Barrilleaux said. "I was lucky, I did have some symptoms. Usually, the number one symptom of colon cancer is no symptoms, but I did have some bleeding. I was more aware because I had listened to her. It can be embarrassing, and I don't know if it's something I would have talked to my doctor about if I hadn't had that concern."