Cancer made me tired. It's a common side effect of the disease and its accompanying treatments, and it's been known to linger long after therapy stops. In order to combat my own drowsiness, I get plenty of sleep at night, I exercise just about every day -- physical activity, even when you feel too pooped to lift a finger, can increase energy levels -- and I try to eat only the healthiest foods, nothing that might make me feel sluggish. I'll take a stab at anything that might give me a boost. Maybe even lemonade, if I can find one low in sugar.

Research indicates that the taste of lemons can fight fatigue by stimulating a nerve in the nose, which then sets off "wake-up" sensors in the brain. So next time you need some extra pep in the morning or a lift during the afternoon, think about about sipping on some lemonade. And then let us know if it works.

Source: Family Circle, July 2007

I like to exercise. I like the challenge, the sweat, the mental release, the physical results, the time to myself. I like everything about it -- practically.

What I don't like about exercise is the pressure to accomplish the feat over and over again for the rest of my life. For years, the pressure I put on myself was palpable. I thought about exercise all the time. I stressed about what to do and when to do it. I fought to convince my kids to climb into a double stroller long after they were too big to sit comfortably in the wobbly contraption and when I found time to exercise all by myself, I struggled with an overwhelming desire to spend quality time with my little boys. I felt rushed to complete my workouts -- because my kids were waiting, dinner was waiting, work was waiting.

I was faithful about exercising -- even through treatment for cancer -- because of my self-induced pressure and despite the stress and worry it caused me. And then something happened.

It was probably a combination of cancer and my relentless push for physical fitness that caused my body to crash. I became tired and exhausted and could barely lift my legs to walk up the neighborhood hills I typically conquered with ease. My oncologist told me to stop, to give my body a break, to let go of my high expectations. He advised me to exercise two to three times per week -- and that's it.

It took some time but I have finally embraced this approach. I have abandoned schedules and routines and plans and I now exercise when I can, when it fits into my day, when I really want to do it. My fitness trainer friend Fitz, a new blogger on That's Fit, wrote in one of her first posts that we should all stop trying to get fit -- and we should just do it. "Don't wake up tomorrow with the idea of trying to go for a jog," she says." "Get up and go for a jog! Put it in your planner and make it happen."

Fitz might not like my approach, but I have stopped putting exercise on my planner. For me, this works. It takes away the pressure, the stress, the worry. It gives me peace to confront each day free of exercise anxiety. It makes me happy to tackle exercise on my own terms, without some preconceived notion of what I should be doing.

I should share something else about myself. I am a perfectionist. I want everything to be just right. As child, I tore up drawings that may have had one stray mark. I wouldn't leave my house for school until my ponytails were flawless. My house is clean and neat, my toenails are pedicured and painted, my hair is styled just so. Perfectionism, sometimes just a step away from obsession, can be an unhealthy practice. And for me, exercise was becoming an emotionally unhealthy endeavor.

I am confident my perfectionist tendencies will keep me in the exercise loop for all of time. Just knowing I need exercise will propel me to conform. But I must say that I am so relieved to have let go of some of my exercise burden.

I like exercise. I really like it. And today, when I ran three miles -- because I had the time and felt up for the task -- it was refreshing, empowering, cleansing. I think it's the lack of pressure that allowed me to lose myself in the moment today. For me, letting go of exercise has lightened the load.

A friend of mine with breast cancer just sent out an update e-mail to friends and family. She began her message with an apology for her recent lack of communication. But she assured us all that she's been out of the loop not because she's felt sick or tired. It's because she's been too busy with normal life. And that's a good thing, she says.

This friend wasn't so sure how she would fare -- both physically and emotionally -- when she was first diagnosed with cancer. But she seems to have done a champion's job of rolling with the punches. Sure, she's had ups and downs. But she is overwhelmingly positive and hopeful. And jumping off my computer screen as I read her e-mail were at least seven bits of hope that tell me she is doing just fine despite all that is unbelievably hard about breast cancer.

My friend just had her first infusion of Taxol. A breeze, she calls it. One. So easy on her body -- two -- that she headed right out and took her daughter communion dress shopping. Her little love looked beautiful, she wrote. Like a mini-bride. The mother of the mini-bride then -- three -- turned a sad moment into a comforting one when her daughter asked, "Mommy, who do you think will bring me wedding dress shopping?"

I am in a slump. I feel tired and slow and unmotivated. And ever since October 14 -- when I ran in the 5K Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event -- I can't seem to find the inspiration to exercise. I am making myself do it -- here and there -- but my usual drive and push and spunk are missing. Typically, I crave exercise and feel lethargic if I don't accomplish some sort of daily physical challenge. But for the past week or so, I have no craving, no desire to walk or run or lift weights, no appetite for my usual fitness routine. I am just plain tired.

Fatigue is a common side effect of cancer treatment -- even years after treatment ends, according to some experts. So perhaps my drop in energy and enthusiasm is due to the cumulative effect of my own treatment for breast cancer that just ended in June. My treatment spanned almost two years. Maybe it's no surprise my body is lagging behind my expectations for physical health.

Experts also say exercise helps combat fatigue. I believe this -- it's why I usually like exercise. It boosts my adrenaline, perks me up, makes me feel alive. If only I could get back into the swing of things, these feelings might come flooding back. But right now, I am not even thinking about how to find my old groove. I am just too tired.

Just two months after her mother lost her battle with gall bladder cancer, Liane was diagnosed with breast cancer. It all happened earlier this year -- and while Liane is still mourning the loss of her mother, she is also still managing the madness of her own disease. Liane is surviving with courage, with determination, with the same powerful spirit that powered her mother's fight.

Liane lives in a small city -- population 43,000 -- in northern Alberta Canada. She has been happily married for 18 years and has two daughters, ages 13 and 15, and a golden retriever named Sunny. Liane loves to garden, cook, read, and spend time with family. She normally works full-time in a real estate and property management office but has been blessed with six months off for treatment. Liane is already -- without a doubt -- a survivor.

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.

Chemotherapy can cause anemia. Anemia is characterized by low levels of circulating red blood cells. These red blood cells are responsible for bringing oxygen to the tissues throughout our body.

I saw a commercial during my chemotherapy treatments for Procrit, a drug that can increase the body's red blood cell count. It showed an older woman running in an open area towards her grandson. I immediately thought to myself "I want some of that stuff!" I was getting worn down from my treatments and feeling very tired and had hardly any energy.

During a chemotherapy session I met a woman who said that she gets the Procrit shots. I asked her "how does it make you feel?" She answered "Well, I'm not running through any fields like that lady on the commercial." It was SO funny! I was LUCKY enough that my red blood cell count got low enough so I could try it. She was right. It didn't give me that boost of energy that I thought I would get but I think it just made me feel a bit more like my normal self.

Here I was looking for some fun! jeez.

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.

Makeup artist Lori Ovitz has taken her twenty years of cosmetics experience in making celebrities and top models look beautiful, and written Facing the Mirror with Cancer, a book of tips and techniques to help cancer patients look less tired and create a natural glow at a time when cancer treatments can take a physical toll.

Ovitz began volunteering at University of Chicago hospitals working with cancer patients to teach them how to enhance their personal appearance using makeup. According to Ovitz, "Makeup is a very accessible, inexpensive way to make significant changes to your appearance. The tremendous gratitude that I've received from each patient I've worked with inspired me to write Facing the Mirror with Cancer -- A Guide to Using Makeup to make a Difference."

To publish her book, Ovitz and her husband Bruce, a 35 year cancer survivor, created Belle Press -- named to honor the memory of her grandmother Belle Michel -- so that 50 percent of the profits from the book could go to cancer research.

"Cancer does not have to rob you of self-esteem or beauty. By teaching cancer patients how to apply makeup, I've seen firsthand what an incredible transformation occurs in their appearance and how much better they feel about themselves. I've written this book because I want to reach cancer patients everywhere so they can learn the tricks of my trade," Lori Ovitz states with assurance.

You can order Facing the Mirror with Cancer, a 200-page book featuring step-by-step tips and techniques for dealing with appearance issues during cancer treatment and beyond, here.

"It's said that chemotherapy is like skiing in front of an avalanche. You do one thing wrong, and the avalanche is going to get you." -- Harvey Rushfeldt

Using the principles he learned in Alcoholics Anonymous, AA, helped Harvey Rushfeldt, 72, diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma last October, create a strategy for successfully living through the often grueling ordeal of chemotherapy. Rushfeldt sees both cancer and alcoholism as mortal threats and he approached his cancer treatments with the same 12 step attitude and perspectives alcoholics adopt on the one-day-at-a-time road to recovery.

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.

Fast food and junk food snacks are not good for health. Smoking is not good for health. Little sleep and non-existent periods of relaxation are not good for health. Lack of exercise and weight gain from stress eating are not good for health. But according to researchers, women who work long hours are prone to some or all these habits, and that is not a good thing for their health. Smoking, damage to the immune system due to unrelenting levels of stress, lack of exercise and weight gain all increase cancer risks.

Leeds University conducted a study that showed women typically respond to the stress of working long hours by engaging in negative habits that are detrimental to their immediate and long-term health. According to researchers, the reaction to stress can manifest in choosing unhealthy high fat and high sugar snacks before choosing healthier food.

The study compared how men and women respond to stress, and if there was a difference. Some experts stated that men are less likely to be affected by working long hours because they are not expected to multi-task when they get home from work in the same way women are expected to do. Researchers said most women agree to their take on the matter.

Knowing that some women alleviate stress in unhealthy ways, gives women an opportunity to step back and assess how they might choose better strategies for dealing with stress -- or in minimizing some of the causes of stress in their life. Aside from these research findings, I think both men and women in modern society are under enormous daily stress and we all need to step back and evaluate how much of our health we are willing to compromise.

I sometimes complain about the lack of warmth I've encountered from medical professionals throughout my journey with breast cancer. There have been glimpses of compassion. And there are a few who stand out as truly caring and concerned. But there seems to be a general lack of sensitivity. Maybe it's a side effect of the job -- distance -- that I should have been prepared for. But instead I was shocked by how I often felt forgotten, like a number, just one of many in my same boat. And this makes me sad -- for me and for all the others who sail rough waters in search of health. I have waited in lobbies for hours -- four hours one time -- and I've been encouraged to toughen up. I've rarely felt comforted -- except by a few who have hugged me or placed a hand on my shoulder. That's all it takes. A simple gesture or kind word.

Before my radiation for breast cancer, I heard horror stories about the treatment. I heard that I might be extremely tired and severely burned and that I might feel generally unwell for the time it would take to completely zap any and all traces of cancer surrounding my breast. But my own radiation wasn't all that bad -- and really, the worst part of the whole therapy for me was the drive to and from the cancer center every day for seven weeks. It was a hassle, a nuisance, a bother. There were other small annoyances throughout the course of my radiation, but they were minimal -- thanks to some secrets that were shared with me along the scorching path of radiation and beyond. And here are seven of them.