I just read this in the latest issue of The Oprah Magazine (July 2007):

"I have come to believe . . . that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal, and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood." - Audre Lorde

If I could have said this beautiful sentiment on my own, I would have. But I didn't, so I'll borrow it and profess that this is exactly how I feel.

If there's one thing that I've learned about cancer, it's this: Life is too fragile to worry about the things we usually spend all our energy on, like deadlines, traffic, working late, making money and so on. Cancer isn't always a death sentence but it should always be a wake-up call. Whether it happens to you or someone close to you, it should always remind you of what's really important.

When my dad passed away, I went through the anger stage of grief being angry at him because although he knew he was dying and I didn't, he never once told me he loved me, even though we had about a dozen conversations during that time. I took grief counseling shortly after and my counselor said something simple but profound and definitely thought-provoking: sometimes the way we say I love you isn't through words.

Seven sweet, simple words were hurled at me last night by my oldest child, Joey -- the boy who makes me as crazy as he does happy.

Joey, six, was all snuggled in bed, cozy with his soft blankets, squishy pillows, and three favorite stuffed puppies. I gave him my usual speech -- Sweet dreams. I love you. Now don't get out of bed -- and then made my usual trek to another room for some me-time. My trip was stopped short, though, because a strong urge inspired me to reverse my steps and return to Joey.

"What are you doing, mommy?" Joey asked as I walked back into the room.

"I thought I'd come rest with you for a little bit," I told him. "Is that OK?" I asked, knowing full well any excuse to avoid sleep is just fine with him

Joey sat straight up, pure joy coloring his tired face. I took this to mean he welcomed my return. And so I crawled into bed and hugged Joey tight. And that's when he spoke the seven words that caused tears to pour from my eyes -- the kind of tears that spill out when the human body can no longer harness its emotion.

The words:

"Mommy, I love you so, so much."

Ever since Joey blessed me with these words, I can't seem to get one thought out of my head.

The thought:

God, I hope I survive cancer long enough to hold this boy in my arms until he is all grown up, until he is wrapping his arms around his own loving child.

I really hope this is not too much to ask.

My friend -- who has a friend newly diagnosed with brain cancer -- greeted me at the door the other day and asked with a sense of urgency, "How can I help?"

"Help your friend?" I asked.

"Yes, she said, unsure of what she might say or do in this time of great difficulty for everyone involved.

I told her a few things. And then I thought of some more. It wasn't terribly easy to come up with these ideas. Because even though I myself was on the receiving end of help during my cancer journey, it's still hard to imagine what an individual wants or needs -- or doesn't want or need. But here's what I've got to offer.

I hope this helps my friend.

I hope it helps you too.

• Allow your loved one to take the lead. If you sense this person wants to talk, then talk. If you sense talk is not welcomed, then don't talk. To determine whether or not your friend or family member wants to discuss cancer, approach the topic and judge the response you get. I know I can usually tell if someone is willing to open up -- typically the conversation just flows -- and when someone is putting the brakes on chit-chat -- typically the conversation falls flat.

• If talk is not in the cards, then consider an offer of food. Sometimes actions speak much louder than words. So think about calling a restaurant in your friend's town and ordering a meal to be delivered right to the door. Most eating establishments accept credit card numbers over the phone so location should be a non-issue. Even those deep in despair need to eat, and taking away the chore of cooking and cleaning up can be quite a gift.

• If the gift of food is not up your alley, how about sending a small gift, like a candle, a pair of cozy socks, a grocery store gift card, a music CD, a gift certificate for a spa. You name it, your special something might brighten the day.

• If you live near your loved one and have some free time, offer to drive to appointments, visit during treatments, pick up kids and entertain them for the day, clean house, cook, and clean up dinner. Try to be very specific with your offers. Say, "I'd like to pick up your kids tomorrow at lunch so you can take a nap" or "I'm coming over on Sunday to rake leaves." These offers are easier to accept than the "call me if you need anything" kind.
  

• If a quick stop at your loved one's house is possible, drop off a book on the front porch or set some pretty potted flowers by the door. Or do both. Then walk away without saying a word. Let your help take your friend by surprise.

• When you do have the chance to talk, avoid guiding the conversation with your own thoughts and advice, unless requested. Saying, "Everything will be OK," for example, may not be true. Assuring your friend she will sail right through chemotherapy may backfire if nausea and fatigue are just down the road. Stating, "it's OK, your hair will grow back," doesn't really help those living with the horror of hair loss. So stay away from promises and predictions and stick to the present. Ask questions, listen, and paraphrase back what your friend has shared. These are basic counseling techniques. The premise is that allowing the person to work through the issues is more important than what we can do to directly help.
  

• Don't forget about the good old greeting card or short note that lets your loved know how much you care. Let the card say it if you wish to avoid writing and then add an address, a stamp, and send your support on its way.
  

• This makes eight -- so much for sticking to my Sunday plan -- but I must share this too: Don't forget about your loved one after months and even years pass by. Initial diagnoses are tough and treatments are tough too. But as your friend survives each day, remember to check in. Cancer is a life-long battle for many. Support and assistance may be just as valuable a year down the road as it is on day one.

I'm wearing a pretty pink sticky note on my shirt. It was taped on me just recently by my six-year-old Joey who's been busy in kindergarten learning to spell words. He's in the sounding-out stage and as long as he gets his consonants right, we're happy. Joey's teacher says he doesn't need to master the vowels just yet, and with that in mind, Joey is doing a pretty impressive job of crafting real words -- although sometimes he misses.

Tonight, Joey had a hit and a miss. But the sentiment buried in his written message -- cryptic as it was -- is enough to warm my heart.

Joey always links me with breast cancer -- no surprise, since he's been a key player in my match with cancer since it began two years ago -- and so tonight, he wrote on the pink sticky note, Bube skawos. He tells me it reads, Boobie cancer. Not so sure about the cancer part. But the boobie part speaks loud and clear. And even more clear is the breast cancer ribbon he drew on the same sticky note, just before he pinned me with his powerful work of art.

Joey's smile spanned from ear to ear as he presented me with my special badge. And I'm smiling just the same as I look at the little pink piece of paper given to me by my loving little boy.

I just received my University of Florida alumni magazine and right smack in the middle of the publication is a story about cancer. The gist of the article is that there's an explosion of effort and activity in cancer research at this institution -- much like all over the nation -- and featured are all sorts of new cancer techniques and strategies and treatments. But one thing in particular stood out to me. What I read -- in the space of just two short sentences -- jumped off the page and really made me think.

This one thing is what I am about to share, and I'm calling it my Thought for the Day. It's a great morsel of information -- short, sweet, easy to digest, and perfectly powerful -- and so I invite you to read on, let this string of words sink into your mind, think about it over the course of the day, and then determine how you might use it in your own life. And then come back tomorrow, when another Thought for the Day will await you.

Think about this:

More than half of all cancer deaths can be prevented by maintaining a healthy lifestyle. Poor nutrition, obesity, physical inactivity, and cigarette smoking together account for 63 percent of all cancer deaths.

Tears are streaming down my face. I can't stop them, and I'm not sure I want to. In a way, I want to feel the tragedy of life lost to cancer because it makes it all real. It makes it personal. It makes me realize the same tragedy could happen to me, my family members, my friends. It makes me want to make a difference even more now that I've seen the chilling pictures of a young woman dying of cervical cancer than moments earlier when I was moved mostly by my own breast cancer journey.

I first read about Heather Lyn Martin on the JANE magazine website, home of a beautifully-written story -- I Hate Tumors -- by Sara Lyle, long-time friend of Heather and senior editor for JANE, a publication for 20-something women. Sara's words powerfully depict the life and death of her friend, stricken with a disease she was sure she would beat. So sure, in fact, she asked Sara to help tell her success story.

Sadly, Heather never got to tell much. Because she died much too soon, at the age of 28. So Sara told the story through her own words and photos -- the same ones responsible for my tears -- and has just recently written a second essay, one year after her first story started reaching young people everywhere.

Sara wrote Why I Still Hate Tumors after inspiring many young women to open their eyes to the realities of a deadly disease. Her words serve to raise awareness about the dangers of cervical cancer -- and the HPV virus that causes it -- and to point women in the direction of resources critical for preventing and conquering the disease.

Sara, because of the death of her dear friend, is saving lives with her message. And she just may save yours.

To see all that Sara has to offer in the fight against cervical cancer and other hated tumors, visit her I Hate Tumors website.

I had no idea my February 10 post Some children's bath products linked to cancer would spark such great debate. At the very moment I write, the post has received more than 64,000 hits and 70 comments.

I must admit when the comments started rolling in, I was a bit nervous. Even though I merely reported the facts on this topic, had no claim to any of the information, and didn't even share my opinion on the matter, the highly charged words written by so many well-meaning readers made me feel a bit like I was caught in the middle, like I started an argument and needed to jump back in, sort things out, and create harmony among those responding to my words.

But then I realized debate is not such a bad thing. It sheds light on all sorts of valid viewpoints. It educates. It raises awareness. And that's what cancer causes are all about.

Having read all the comments that now are officially assigned to this one post, I am so much more enlightened than when I summarized the story I came across revealing that some bath products contain a bit too much of a chemical called 1,4-dioxane, a probable human carcinogen that is already known to cause cancer in animals.

All I really knew at the time I wrote the post is that the FDA has no regulation over this chemical and that cosmetic companies must monitor themselves. Some don't do such a good job, and herein lies the debate.

Some readers say big deal, what's the harm really in a little extra dash of chemical in a whole tub of water. Perhaps if our children soaked all day for many days in this chemical, cancer might strike. But a quick bath with a tiny trace of 1,4-dioxane is not likely to do any harm. One reader wrote that we shouldn't stress so much about headlines that scare us into believing everything causes cancer, that we'll probably live a whole lot longer just living our lives free of constant worry.

Another camp of readers say a little bit of something bad is still too much. Over the course of a lifetime, how do we know our children won't pay for our mistaken belief that this hype is just -- hype. Some cancer surviving readers wonder if their cancer was caused by their plentiful childhood bubble baths. And some go to great lengths to find natural, organic, chemical-free products, whatever the financial cost.

A few consultants for these natural products left their own comments, claiming to help those consumed with anxiety. Others scolded these business people for capitalizing on the fears of others with products that have not been proved any safer.

There are advocates of moderation who wrote. And individuals seeking more information. And people who located resources for others to investigate.

There is indeed a rich commentary on the link between bath products and cancer that follows one short post I wrote late one night, after my own children were bathed -- with Dove soap and generic shampoo -- and put to bed. And I am indeed happy to know my small contribution on the topic has generated such a powerful windfall of thought and concern.

As evidence mounts, it's becoming more and more clear that chemo brain, a mental fogginess that can result from chemotherapy, is a real concern and not just a convenient excuse cancer patients use to explain away their flighty and forgetful tendencies. It seems the brain really can suffer cognitive damage from the poisonous drugs that fight off deadly cancer cells. And sometimes, this damage is present years after treatment.

Add to chemo brain the normal aging process as well as brain conditions such as mild cognitive impairment and even schizophrenia and the brain might not stand a chance of ever remembering anything. Unless we buy into the new concept of mental training -- somewhat like physical fitness training -- in which case we may be able to bring back a level of sharpness to our lives.

Research suggests this type of training may delay mental decline. And Betty Hall, 85, who is taking a brain fitness class at her senior living complex in Illinois, says brain-enhancing activities are definitely helping her.

Hall is participating in an eight-week program where she spends one hour per day, five days per week using a computer to match words and listen for details in stories. She says it's helping her remember where she places her keys and her grocery lists -- and it's even helping her in her bridge club.

"I've won four times out of the last five at bridge club, and I think the players are going to shoot me because I keep remembering the cards people have," she said. "It's much easier for me to concentrate . . . and I brag about it everywhere I go."

One clinical professor of neurology says brain health programs will explode over the next few years because of the stunning findings on this front. One study shows relatively short training regimens, lasting just five or six weeks, improve functioning for as long as five years. And booster sessions help advance these gains. Study participants says their everyday tasks, like managing finances, are much easier after mental workouts. Another study of the computer software Hall uses shows the program shaves an average 10 years off the mental age of users.

Not all mental training is alike, and different cognitive difficulties may call for different training protocols. But the simple fact that I can work out my brain like I can work out my body gives me hope that I can possibly reverse the effects of chemotherapy on my own foggy brain, that I can one day not worry anymore that I might find my check book in the refrigerator and my cell phone in my sock drawer. Bring on the workouts!

Thanks to Bev, my brainy friend, for this story tip!

Evangelical preacher Darlene Bishop believes prayer can cure cancer. She wrote a book about it, and she convinced her brother to abandon conventional cancer treatment so he could fully pursue the power of prayer. Sadly, his pursuits were unsuccessful and he died 18 months ago from throat cancer. Now Bishop is in the midst of a multi-faceted legal battle with family members who claim she did her brother wrong. Maybe she did.

Perhaps prayer alone can't cure cancer, but a new study does indicate prayer can be of great benefit to some people following a cancer diagnosis.

Researchers at the University of Wisconsin looked at transcripts from 97 breast cancer patients active in an on-line support group. They found patients who wrote more religious words -- like prayer, worship, faith, and holy -- had less negative emotions than other patients. They also had higher levels of overall well-being.

This study, also revealing prayer has the same effect regardless of specific religious practices, lends support to research showing cancer patients with positive purpose in their lives fare better through their journeys than those floundering in negativity.

There is something to be said for the power of prayer. On the morning the lump in my breast was removed, a friend rallied more than 80 friends from our local MOMS Club to say a prayer for me -- at the exact time I was wheeled into an operating room. I know nothing of the prayer they said for me, but I do know I emerged from surgery with my breast intact and with the knowledge that my cancer had not spread to my lymph nodes.

I don't know for sure what role prayer played in my good fortune -- but I don't discount that it is in some way responsible for the fact that I am alive today.

But there are other obvious factors responsible for my survival -- like chemotherapy, radiation, physical therapy, targeted drug therapy, and counseling. So I don't think prayer alone saved me. I think it took a balance of varied forces to save my life -- a balance one Ohio man was not able to achieve.

The children of Darrell Perry are filing suit against their aunt, Darlene Bishop -- Perry's sister and an evangelical preacher -- who claims both she and Perry were cured of cancer through prayer.

Perry was not cured and died a year and a half ago from throat cancer. And Bishop now reveals she was never diagnosed with breast cancer -- like she claimed at one time -- but was merely worried she may have had the disease. Yet the message in her book Your Life Follows Your Words speaks loud and clear in its message -- that prayer can cure cancer.

Perry's children says their aunt is lying and exploiting their father for her own financial gain. They have filed two suits -- one accusing her of mismanaging and misusing Perry's estate and the other alleging wrongful death for convincing Perry to pray rather than seek medical help.

I've had the little book, with its glossy plaid cover, ever since it was released in 1991. I was 21 years old and already a fan of well-crafted, powerful words. So it was no surprise I picked up Life's Little Instruction Book: 511 suggestions, observations, and reminders on how to live a happy and rewarding life. And it's no surprise I have kept it with me for all these years, allowing it a lifetime membership on my bookshelf, where I can swiftly pluck it from its spot when I need a little inspiration.

Now in a worn, faded, and tattered state, this book is still one of my favorites. Its words are timeless, its messages are meaningful -- even more so now that I am 36 years ago. Now a college graduate, a one-time working professional, a wife, a mom, a writer, and a breast cancer survivor, the reflections printed in this book speak to me more clearly than ever before.

Here are seven of my current favorites from Life's Little Instruction Book -- written by H. Jackson Brown, Jr. for his college-bound son at a time when he had no idea the road map he provided for his child would come to serve so many others.

• Always have something beautiful in sight, even if it's just a daisy in a jelly glass.

• Don't forget, a person's greatest emotional need is to feel appreciated.

• Choose work that is in harmony with your values.

• Don't be intimidated by doctors and nurses. Even when you're in the hospital, it's still your body.

• Don't use time or words carelessly. Neither can be retrieved.

• Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring, and integrity, they think of you.

• Keep it simple.
  

Who and what was the most googled in 2006? The Year-End Google Zeitgeist top ten lists for general and news searches on the Internet this year include Paris Hilton and Bebo -- and cancer.

Of the celebrities most searched for, Paris Hilton outranked Orlando Bloom and the social networking site Bebo outranked MySpace. In the news category, cancer ranked as the third most searched for topic, before podcasting, autism, Hurricane Katrina, and bankruptcy.

The top ten Google searches were, in this order: Bebo, MySpace, World Cup, Metacafe, Radioblog, Wikipedia, Video, Rebelde, Mininova and Wiki. The top ten Google news searches were, in this order: Paris Hilton, Orlando Bloom, cancer, podcasting, Hurricane Katrina, bankruptcy, Martina Hingis, autism, the 2006 NFL Draft and Celebrity Big Brother.

Surprised to see Paris Hilton topping the list of news searches? Sadly, me neither. Personally, I am not certain that she has ever done anything newsworthy, other than having proven a supreme talent for the uniquely cunning ability to stay in the headlines for no particularly meaningful reason.

It is substantially interesting that cancer was the third most searched for news topic this year. I know that those whose lives have been touched by cancer can feel very alone, and if this proves anything, we are certainly not alone in trying to sort through the many issues linked to cancer.

I had a free massage the other day, compliments of a local massage workshop called Caring for Clients with Cancer.

This hands-on gift came to me by way of a woman who was once a scientist and is now a massage therapist. Concerned that cancer patients are rarely encouraged to cash in on the benefits of touch therapy, this woman merged her two disciplines so she could help patients heal in a holistic manner. And so her workshop was born. And I was invited to take part.

I received one completely soothing and invigorating massage. I also received one completely inspiring packet of quotes -- that I've already read over and over again -- related to recovery and healing. Each quote is so perfect in its message, and I wish I could share them all today. But time and space are limited at the moment, and I can only share a few.

So here are seven of my favorite quotes, free for the taking, a gift from me to you. Take a moment to read them, share them, savor them, and quietly reflect on the power of these simple words.

People who have been through illness's dark passage can occasionally give us a glimpse, not only of what it is like to become whole, but of what it is to be more fully human.
--Marc Ian Barasch
The Healing Path

Those who have suffered understand suffering and therefore extend their hand.
--Patti Smith

What matters is this: you can look at a scar and see hurt or you can look at a scar and see healing. Try to understand.
--Sheri Reynolds

I have a duty to speak the truth as I see it and to share not just my triumphs, not just the things that felt good, but the pain, the intense, often unmitigating pain. It is important to share how I know survival is survival and not just a walk through the rain.
--Audre Lorde

Illness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use only the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.
--Susan Sontag, Illness as Metaphor

Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something, and has lost something.
--H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Patience is a hard discipline. It is not just waiting until something happens over which we have no control; the arrival of the bus, the end of the rain, the return of a friend, the resolution of a conflict. Patience is not waiting passively until someone else does something. Patience asks us to live the moment to the fullest, to be completely present to the moment, to taste the here and now, to be where we are. When we are impatient, we try to get away from where we are. We behave as if the real thing will happen tomorrow, later, and somewhere else. Let's be patient and trust that the treasure we look for is hidden in the ground on which we stand.
--Henry J.M. Nouwen

It's hard to see the light while stuck in the middle of the tunnel. It's difficult to imagine tough times getting better. It's frustrating to manage obstacle after obstacle. It's almost impossible to consider that challenges can actually transform into victories.

Yet somehow, in some way, in good time, most of us do arrive at the end of the tunnel -- where life is not so dark, where we can make sense of all that has come before our glorious exits into the light of the world.

A friend of mine is stuck in the tunnel of breast cancer. I know this because she sent me an e-mail today that struck a chord and took me back to a time when I was stuck -- and was quite certain life would not get better.

My life did get better -- after I survived the cancer treatment that sent me spiraling through my own tunnel -- and I know my friend will soon encounter better times. She may not be able to predict it at this very moment, but one day she will emerge into the brightness. One day, she will see the light. One day, she will be promising someone else that times do get better. One day, she will be amazed that she even wrote these words.

Well, chemo #2 kicked my butt! I was bed-ridden or in front of the toilet since Friday afternoon! It was awful. Stayed home from work today cause still feel a bit queasy. The doctor cut my steroids in the drip cause of the rash/break-out I had the first time, she thought it might have been an allergic reaction. Well, next time, I will take the break-out over this.

And to this I say -- let there be light.