Drugs currently in trials for obesity and diabetes may soon be fast-tracked for use in the fight against breast cancer. Typically, it takes many years to research and develop new drugs. But these already-developed drugs, if successful, could reach the market much quicker.

The drugs, believed to work by blocking the enzyme PTP1B, could help breast cancer patients because the enzyme is found in high levels in about 40 percent of these patients.

Studies on mice show blocking production of the enzyme significantly slowed tumor development. In some cases, it stopped the spread of the cancer and it might even stop some tumors from forming.

There's been much press lately about the cervical cancer vaccine, its merits, its implications, and the debate surrounding the issue of vaccinating young girls against the sexually transmitted virus HPV.

Enter a new vaccine -- the ovarian cancer vaccine.

Early clinical trial results are promising for this vaccine, intended to fight off ovarian cancer tumors with patients' own cells -- but without the toxicity of traditional chemotherapy.

Says Dr. Ed Staren of Cancer Treatment Centers of America, "We're able to identify the specific components of the tumor and target it for individual therapy for the patient."

Doctors would surgically remove a patient's tumor and then send it to a lab where tumor cells would be used to create a vaccine specifically for the patient.

A second round of clinical trials to study the effectiveness of this vaccine will begin this summer.

Cancer-related fear once consumed my mind. Now it sits lodged in the back of my brain and only presents itself on rare occasions.

I handle my fears so much better now than when cancer was new and fresh and raw. My fears hardly ever cause me real anxiety, they don't cripple my mental functioning anymore, and more than ever, they serve to focus my efforts in life. When fear strikes, it's usually a wake-up call of sorts, a reminder to leave no stone unturned, a summons to keep on living.

Although so much less threatening than they once were, my fears still exist. And I like to review them once in awhile, lose myself in a little emotional housekeeping, tidy up some of the mess cancer made. I always feel better when things are in order -- fears included.

• I fear a breast cancer recurrence, the return of a tumor that rises to the surface of my skin and presents itself again underneath my fingertips -- or in my worst-case scenario is lost among dense breast tissue, undetected by self-exam, and caught too late by some combination of mammogram, ultrasound, and MRI.

• I fear more than anything another cancer -- something entirely different from breast cancer, something buried in my body and not as responsive as breast cancer to treatment. I am prepared for a second visit from breast cancer because I know how to proceed, know I will succumb to treatment that is familiar, know I will remove both breasts in the most radical of life-saving approaches. But cancer in my lungs, brain, bones, blood, ovaries is out of my realm. And these cancers -- among many others -- really scare me.
  

• I fear that my mom and my sister -- my first-degree female relatives -- will one day follow in my breast cancer footsteps. I once thought family history trickled down from above, from older family members. Now I know the disease can start with anyone. I am the anyone in my family. I am the reason my mom and sister are closely watched and monitored and tested. I am the one that put the fear of cancer into their hearts and minds -- and into mine.
  

• I fear having another baby. I fear the return of cancer during pregnancy, leaving me with difficult choices regarding my health and my baby's health. I fear cancer returning after a baby is born, leaving me with one more child and more treatment to manage. I fear another cancer would lead to a decreased chance of survival and another baby would leave my husband feeling stranded should I die too soon. And I fear having a baby girl who would inherit the very real chance of developing breast cancer at some time during her life.
  

• I fear not having another baby. I fear the regret I may feel one day, perhaps 50 years from now when I am healthy and cancer-free and without the child I longed for. I fear I am being overly cautious, too tentative, a bit selfish. A fellow cancer survivor once wrote me, "I learned that my family continues, even if I do not. I also learned that they are at least as tough as I am so will cope with the genes I pass to them and their own cancer battles if needed. Finally, I learned they look out for each other just as I looked out for them. No matter what your future, you will never regret giving another child a place in your family." I fear this man may be right.
  

• I fear dying at a young age. I fear leaving my children before they are grown. I fear leaving my husband a single parent, my mom someone who has lost a child, and my sister an only child. I have been told over and over again that my chances of survival are great, fantastic even. I have a 93 percent chance of not dying from breast cancer. This does seem great -- until I take into account that this percentage is good for only five years. My five years will expire when I am 39 years old. What happens then, I am not sure. The only thing I am sure about is that five years is not enough time. I want more, need more, demand more. Yet I fear my days may be numbered.
  

These are the fears that keep me focused. And while they are sometimes not-so-pleasant, I am in no hurry to resolve any of them. I am thankful really to have these fears swirling in my head -- because it means I am alive. And for me, being alive with fears is better than not being alive at all.

In the past year, I have had three severe skin reactions characterized by red, itchy, burning bumps that start on my chest and without fail climb over my shoulders and onto my back. They last for a few weeks, are irritated by the Florida heat, and have had no known cause -- until today when I visited my dermatologist for a skin cancer screening and briefed her on this bizarre condition that has kept me away from sunscreen and out of the swimming pool and in hiding from the sun. I have suspected that sunscreen, chlorine, the sun -- or some combination of the three -- have been my potential irritants. So I've been avoiding them altogether. But I learned today that the sunscreen and the chlorine are not to blame. That leaves the sun, which is the most likely culprit -- and only because I have received chemotherapy with one very toxic drug. Adriamycin.

My dermatologist told me about a phenomenon called UV Recall that is associated with Adriamycin. Apparently the toxicity of this drug, even though administered long ago, can be recalled, causing a reaction when the UV rays of the sun soak into my skin. Sunscreen may help, my doctor told me, but she cautioned me that it is just a screen -- it does not offer full protection. And she said the best suncreen option would include zinc oxide. I think for me, though, staying out of the sun is my best bet. It's not ideal -- it means I will remain on the fringe of the swimming pool, hiding in the shade, while my boys swim their little hearts out. And tropical vacations will be off my wish list. And I will seek outdoor fun mostly after the sun goes down. But this is okay -- I knew there were long-term side effects of chemotherapy drugs. I am just thankful for now that my heart has not been compromised -- a side effect of both Adriamycin and the drug Herceptin that I have also received. And it's also not a bad thing that the steps I must now take to prevent skin reactions are also the steps that protect me from skin cancer. So in some sort of round-about way, my inconvenient skin issues may just help me stay healthy. And that's just fine with me.

I have been a cheerleader for the breast cancer drug Herceptin ever since I began receiving it. I had my initial worries -- about an allergic reaction that I knew caused death within 24 hours for a handful of women and about possible toxicity to the heart -- but after faring well through my first dose and having now successfully completed my one year obligation to the drug, with no allergic reaction or heart damage, I have come to believe the Herceptin might just be the gem of a drug that the media says it is. Yet now I've read an article that makes me question what I really know about Herceptin -- and the studies that surround it and the statistics that back it and the messages sent out over the lines of mass communication to every day, non-medical people like me.

Herceptin -- a targeted breast cancer drug used to treat women who are Her2 positive -- has received rave reviews and has shown great promise in cutting down on recurrence of this aggressive form of breast cancer. Given over the course of 52 weeks, Herceptin is wondrous for its lack of short-term side effects. There is no hair loss, no compromise of blood counts, no significant sickness. For me, fatigue may have resulted from this treatment -- but it's unclear to me really whether it was the Herceptin or the two small boys I have living in my house that most contributed to my occasional exhaustion. Regardless, I functioned well while receiving Herceptin for the past year -- and I did not suffer anything more than a twinge of pain when my port was accessed for each treatment. In the short term, I have fared well. In the long term, the jury is still out.

In most cases, by the time someone notices the signs and symptoms of cancer, the cancer has developed past the early stage when it is most treatable. That is why there is so much emphasis on annual cancer screening for the most common cancers. That is the traditional wisdom.

As a result of the Mayo Lung Project study, researchers are saying the opposite. Basically, they are warning us not to go looking for trouble. It seems high-tech imaging technology can detect very small lung abnormalities that might be clinically unimportant but lead to over diagnosis of lung cancer, and subsequent toxicity and premature death from treatments for lung cancer.

The researchers placed patients in two groups. One group received multiple screening chest x-rays and spectrum tests used to identify lung cancer. The other group did not have any screening. 585 cancers were diagnosed in the first group, while 500 cancers were diagnosed in the second group.

The researchers concluded there is a very real and harmful role that over diagnosis plays in mass screening and the question remains if early detection of lung cancer through mass screening results in a net benefit to the public's health. Knowing this, I would still want to be screened. I might opt in getting second and third opinions in exploring treatment options before I rushed into any treatment though.