These seven breast cancer survivors have been featured on The Cancer Blog before, all because of their own personal blogs and their own personal battles with cancer. Today, I offer you an update on these remarkable individuals whose stories have undoubtedly touched many lives.

Adriene

On April 26, 2006, Adriene wrote a final entry on her Survivor Blog. "This will be my last entry on the Survivor Blog," she writes. "I am finished. And I am complete, at least I feel I am. Now it's time to be in health and in love and in gratitude. To be at another level. It's time to move. Move. The wind beneath."

Breast cancer -- and writing about it -- is behind her. But Adriene is still inspiring readers on her blog. Check out her site's photo.a.day feature. It's nothing but moving.

Jen

Jen, a young wife and mom who blogs My Journey through Motherhood, once wrote about breast cancer every few days. Now she can't seem to find time to keep up with her entries. What good news for this survivor who is busy with life and not cancer.

Sandee

Sandee, author of I Will Survive, is quite a breast cancer warrior. She has been fighting the disease and it's cruel spread for many years and finds herself living with constant treatment. Her most recent blog entry, posted on April 14, reads:

Feeling down, I just can't shake this tired feeling, cancer treatments may keep you alive but they totally change everything about you. I know I should be grateful but I miss the way I used to be. I miss my hair ... I miss my eyebrows ... I miss my eyelashes ... I miss my toenails ... I miss my slender body ... I miss my energy ... I miss shopping for hours ... I miss not being afraid ... I miss not taking medication ... I miss volunteering ... I miss working out ... I miss being pain-free ... I miss feeling pretty ... I miss wearing high heels ... I miss driving 5-speed ... I miss not being able to plan ahead ... I miss going to family functions ... I miss feeling immortal ... I miss my health ... I miss my old breasts ... I miss having flawless skin ... I miss a lot!

Despite her uphill battle, Sandee ends each blog entry with a random thought and something for which she is thankful. Her random thought on April 14: Regardless, I'm still happy to be alive! And then: Today I am thankful for my kids.

Valerie

Valerie blogs The Beck Family and fills her space with happy photos and positive words. Busy recuperating from a hysterectomy, growing out her post-chemotherapy hair, and training to participate in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, Valerie is doing well -- and keeping busy going to baseball games and Las Vegas with girlfriends. She has a new puppy and a great outlook on life after cancer.

"Our life is back to normal and normal things are happening," she writes. "Our transmission went out on our Yukon last week, and it was under warranty, so it is in the shop. Our washing machine stopped working due to me overloading it too many times, so we went out and got a new front loading one. Its pretty cool!!! and that's it. Everyone else is doing great. We still love our new puppy.

Patty

Patty's husband blogs Patty's Journey. "Patty hasn't been feeling great the last few days," he writes on April 25. "She's had a light headed feeling and can't seem to get a deep breath. She's not sure if she's just become acutely aware of her breathing or what. I've read that the Herceptin can cause dizziness in 13% of patients so I'm not sure if this is what this could be or not. Hopefully, it is nothing. She's sees the doctor tomorrow so we'll see what he says. Pray that these issues resolve for her."

Patty, a mom to four young daughters, is finishing up radiation while receiving Herceptin treatment.

Marjorie

Marjorie and her husband Gordon take turns updating Beating Breast Cancer. But the last entry on this site was posted on November 28 and other than what Marjorie writes on this date, I am not sure how she is doing.

"On the day of the poisoning by taxotere I feel OK," writes Marjorie on this November day. "Next day my body feels strange and tired. The answer should be wee nap in the afternoon, but NO. My mind is so wired and agitated I found myself planning next year's Christmas dinner -- not this year's. This goes on for two or three days then WHAM, I'm the most depressing person to be around."

I hope Marjorie's absence from writing is an indication she is thriving and is too distracted by the joys of life to take a seat at the keyboard.

Kristina

Kristina blogs for The Cancer Blog -- and also for herself, her friends, and her family on her personal site.

Kristi, who calls herself a young Breast Cancer Survivor, Freethinker, New Marine Aquarist, Reach for Recovery Volunteer, reluctant accountant, freelance writer, voracious reader and cancer blogger, most recently is mourning this loss of her beloved cat Cleo, making a difference with the Young Survival Coalition, and laughing it up with friends traveling similar breast cancer paths.

Valerie Monroe, beauty director for The Oprah Magazine, writes a monthly column -- Ask Val -- that appears on the pages of Oprah's feel-good publication. She responds to questions about make-up, skin care, hair care, and overall body care too.

In her February 2007 column, Val writes, "Many of you have written to tell me that you began to be less critical of your body when you appreciated the things it could do." As I read this, I had what Oprah would call an Aha! moment, a moment when something just clicks and makes sudden sense. Aha!, I thought, as I considered all the things my body can do, completely independent of how I look on the outside. So while I was jogging today -- my body can now easily run three miles -- I ran through all of my body's accomplishments, and I stored them in the files of my mind so I could later write them down.

Here are seven things my body can do. As you read them, consider your own body -- its strength, its power, its capacity for greatness -- and remind yourself of your wondrous self the next time you start to criticize the way you look.

• My body can partner in the creation of human life. It can carry babies and deliver them and love them and care for them and raise them. Not all bodies have this power. I am lucky.

• My body can climb an attic staircase, crawl into cramped and dark corners, pull large boxes out of wedged spaces, drag them back to the staircase, and walk backwards down the stairs with goods balancing on my head so that I can fulfill the wish my five-year-old child who wanted so badly in early November to assemble our Christmas tree and decorate our house for the holidays. "Let's wait until Daddy gets home," I told Joey when I found myself crammed into a tiny space in the attic, wrestling with a heavy box full of artificial tree parts. "You can do it, Mommy," Joey said. "You are strong." And so I fought my way through the frustrating feat because I was afraid of the lessons I would teach this little boy if I didn't. In the end, it was Joey who taught me the lesson. I can do it. I am strong.
  

• My body can endure and conquer a 5K run when it once could barely run around the block. With a little extra effort and push, I think my body can accomplish even more.

• My body, once weak and without definition, can lift increasingly heavy weight and can generate muscle tone. It can even do push-ups -- real push-ups. It takes dedication and practice and persistence and mental toughness too. But I see progress. I feel progress. And I want more.

• My body can help others. I can use my fingers to type words on a keyboard that will reach friends and family and people I don't even know. My words can inform and support and encourage and heal. I can use my hands and my semi-creative talents to create hand-made gifts, to cook and deliver very mediocre meals for friends in need, to massage my husband's sore back, to braid my niece's beautiful hair and paint her tiny nails. I can use my arms to hug my little boys with all my might. I can use my voice to communicate, my ears to listen, my senses to feel.
  

• My body can tolerate surgery and chemotherapy and radiation and horrible allergic reactions to antibiotics. My body was badly beaten by a treatment protocol intended to cure me of a disastrous disease. And somehow, in some way, it survived.
  

• My body killed cancer. With the aid of medical intervention and a hopeful attitude, my body overcame the worst and best thing that has ever happened to me. And if it could do nothing else, I would be truly happy for this one thing my body can do.
  

The Beck family blogs about life in California -- about soccer games and parades and hikes and family trips. They display happy photos of their kids eating pancakes made by daddy and playing on the beach and dressing up for Halloween. And they also blog about breast cancer -- because Valerie Beck, wife and mom of two young children, was diagnosed with this disease on June 26, 2006.

Valerie is just two months into her journey and has just completed her second chemotherapy treatment. She has already survived surgery and scary pathology results and some dark moments. But Valerie will surely conquer cancer with her happy take on life, her supportive family, and her ability to go with the flow -- however unpredictable it may be. And her husband -- author of the family blog -- keeps all readers updated on Valerie's progress. He is positive, hopeful, and a bit frightened too. On July 8, he wrote:

What a past couple days, my beautiful bride Valerie, my wife, my life long partner has a serious fight in front of her. She is going to grow old with me, she is going to help me spoil our grandchildren, we will beat this! I have faith, and I believe, but I also believe you cannot hide from the awful truths, this is not a nice disease. Three of the best doctors in the world do not come rushing to your aid in ONE DAY if they thought "you will easily make it through this" (which is what it seems I am always telling Valerie). I am trying to be strong, I feel I have to be, but sitting here in front of an inanimate object I find it easier to share my inner fears. I do have faith we will make it through this ..... it just won't be easy.

It won't be easy. But it can be done. Best wishes, Beck family!