Author Leah Hager Cohen says her blog is inspired by her mother, for at least two reasons. One: it is because of her mom that she's a writer. "She has seen me for a writer my whole life, ever since I could make up stories and dictate them to her," says Cohen. Two: her mom is fighting ovarian cancer, has been since April 2006 when she was 62. Cohen's blog -- Love As a Found Object -- is for her mom and about her mom. It is quite a blog.

In an entry written in September 2006, Cohen shares:

My mother is perhaps the most energetic person I know, and my children, who collectively run a close second, have grown accustomed to having her set the pace when she is around. She's the one who persuaded me, six years ago, that the kids and I did not need a dining room nearly so much as we needed a "project room." She usually arrives for visits bearing the raw materials and mental blueprint for some art or engineering project into which she and the kids then plunge together. Even though we've all had months to get used to her cancer, her tiredness still seems strange, as does the chemo-haze from which she regards us more quietly than is her wont. She seems almost an imposter in this muffled state, so accustomed are we to having her lead us on capers and jaunts through real and metaphorical woods.

Writer Jeph Lobe has been working through the stages of grief in the most recent issues of Marvel Comics. You see, Captain America has been gunned down. And his buddies -- Wolverine, the Avengers, Iron Man, and Spider-Man -- are battling with denial, anger, bargaining, and depression. The whole story will be revealed when the latest issue, Fallen Son, hits newsstands July 5th, the day after Independence Day.

Loeb, also an executive producer for NBC's Heroes, chose his storyline to represent current politics.

"Part of it grew out of the fact that we are a country that's at war, we are being perceived differently in the world," he says. "He wears the flag and he is assassinated -- it's impossible not to have it at least be a metaphor for the complications of present day."

"If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster." - Isaac Asimov

Famous quotations can provoke powerful messages and thought. As individuals, we can read the same quotes but give to it totally unique meanings. This quote means to me -- that if I was to find out that my cancer recurred, I would still need to carry on, hold my head up and keep going. Live life to the fullest.

I started to think about what the author of this quote was saying about himself. I wondered what it meant in his own life. Issac was a science fiction writer who died in 1992. I think that maybe since he was a writer, upon learning of his death, would want to tell more stories, finish ones he already started or just get all of him that he could into this life as a legacy for him to leave behind. I couldn't know what was really in Issac's mind and I can't know whats in yours but many times we can read these messages and connect with them.

I do know that sometimes reading quotes -- is like poetry to me.

Don Herbert, also known as television's science teacher Mr.Wizard, died at his home Tuesday of bone cancer. He was 89.

Mr. Wizard's target audience was kids (baby boomers: you may already know this) and his lessons taught youngsters to use the thinking skills of scientists through workshop experiments using simple household items. His 1950s series Watch Mr. Wizard was so good it won a Peabody Award in 1954, and Herbert was one of David Letterman' first guests when the show Late Night With David Letterman debuted in 1982. Herbert's show made it to Nickelodeon too and ran from 1983 to 1991. Reruns were shown until 2000. Nickelodeon's Mr. Wizard episodes are available here.

A native of Waconia, Minnesota, Herbert graduated from LaCrosse State Teachers College in 1940; served as a U.S. Army Air Corps pilot during World War II; and worked as an actor, model, and radio writer before reaching fame on Mr. Wizard in Chicago -- and then New York -- on NBC.

He is survived by six children and stepchildren and by his second wife, Norma.

My gut hasn't always guided me through life's most difficult decisions and dilemmas. It wasn't until I felt a lump in my breast more than two years ago that my gut kicked into gear and told me something very important.

"It's cancer," my insides told me one week before the surgeon who did my biopsy called.

"It's cancer," the surgeon said. I didn't tell him, but I thought it: "I know."

I also knew prior to surgery that my cancer had not spread to my lymph nodes. My gut told me this too. It also told me the chemotherapy drug Taxol was not right for me -- since my cancer had not spread -- despite the urging of one oncologist that I accept this treatment. I would have gone on gut instinct alone in my rejection of this medication but another doctor weighed in and agreed with my gut, so I had solid backing on this decision.

Many have dismissed hunches like these and have written off those who believe in them as screwballs, says writer Chip Brown in the March 2007 issue of The Oprah Magazine. But as Brown shares after peering into the world of gut instinct, there are 100 million nerve cells in the gut. They run on autopilot, regulate digestion, play a critical role in the body's immune system, and control mood-altering neurotransmitters identical to those in the brain.

The gut is essentially a second brain. It was a "gut feeling" that led Fred Smith, founder of Federal Express, to begin exploring the possibilities of overnight delivery and Howard Schultz, founder of Starbucks, to begin mass marketing coffee. Wall Street professionals make millions on their gut feelings, sportscasters make startling predictions based on gut guidance, and entrepreneurs launch thriving businesses because of the inklings that rumble in their tummies.

You may or may not be a gut thinker yourself. But I've stumbled upon a gut exercise -- thanks to psychotherapist Nancy Napier --and I'd like for you to consider it the next time you find yourself stuck at a crossroads, unsure of where to turn. You never know, the direction you seek may be swirling around in your midsection, just waiting for a call to action.

Think about this:

You are wavering between two choices. Find yourself a quiet, serene place where there will be no disruptions. Now sit down. Take a moment to settle and focus on the issue you want to explore. Then choose one side. Think about this side and notice what happens in your gut. Do you feel a tightening and gripping or a softening and warming? Are the sensations pleasant or uncomfortable? Notice your thoughts. Are they positive or negative? Give yourself some time to feel your gut and your mind responding.

Now shift to the other side. Think about the previous questions, and try to chart what your body gut is saying.

While you may not get a gut answer at first, if you come back with the question several times, you'll likely hear just what your gut wants you to know.

I tend to think of cancer as a gift. I think it helps me prioritize life's details. I believe it has taught me to stress less. I know it's made me more sensitive to others sharing this planet with me. Yes, cancer has made me a better person. And I consider that a gift.

This is not how writer Lauren Terrazzano describes her dance with cancer.

"The truth is, having cancer just pisses me off," says Terrazzano.

"I wish I could be one of those people who has had the epiphany, who believes the disease has given me valuable insight into life. OK, I occasionally feel that way, but it might just be the pain medication."

Neither of us is right. We just have different takes on living with a deadly disease. And our opposite viewpoints make for a rather enlightening study on how cancer affects us all so differently.

I regularly write about the blessings I've found in the midst of cancer. So for today's Thought for the Day, I present to you some thoughts from Terrazzano about how cancer is not always a gift.

Think about this:

On cancer making her a better person

I don't really remember what kind of person I was before cancer. While I may not be better, I am definitely blunter.

I often say whatever I want to whomever I want, whenever the moment strikes me. These flashes can be toxic to those around me. I once yelled at a homeless man who asked me for a dollar. I yell at my husband sometimes, arguing about stupid things like how to shove a brisket into the freezer, above the peas and spinach.

And I sometimes wish bad things on bad people. Mostly the high-octane evil people, like Osama bin Laden (Why can't he have to go through chemotherapy? Why can't he have a good dose of radiation?). Are these really the musings of a better person?

On living each day as if it's your last

Nope. Can't do it.

While sometimes I am the carpe diem sort of girl, I want to live each day like just another day. I want to watch When Harry Met Sally for the 17th time or surf the Internet for new pictures of Britney Spears' bald head. Then I want to cap it off by several hours of reading. Forget Tolstoy, though. I'd rather read People magazine. Why do I have to cram life into 20 seconds, while other people have the luxury of doing it over the span of 20 years?

On why she is not so brave

Firefighters and police officers who plunge head first into dangerous situations are brave. A child protective worker who gets paid next to nothing and tries to be a mother to as many as 50 dysfunctional families is brave. Those people chose their positions in life. Cancer chose me. It's not bravery that gets me up every morning to try to beat back the monster. It's a survival instinct that kicks in, pure Darwinism.

The fact is, most of the time I am scared to death. I wear Band-Aids far too long because I can't take the agony of pulling them off. I hate needles (though I don't know anyone who likes them). Why is it that people who hate getting blood drawn are the ones who usually end up with serious illnesses that require getting stuck often? It's a mystery of the universe, much like why tornadoes seem to seek out trailer parks to do their damage.

On December 20, founder of L.A.'s Circle West theater company and member of the off-Broadway Circle Repertory Company in New York, playwright and screenwriter John Bishop passed away from cancer during his stay at a clinic in Bad Heilbrunn, Germany.

Marshall W. Mason, founding artistic director of the Circle Repertory Company is quoted as saying, "John was one of our major writers. I think next to Lanford Wilson, he was our most prominent writer; he wrote many plays for us. Bishop had a remarkable insight into the dark side of human nature, which he saw in both a comic and satiric way. All this served him very well when he came to Hollywood because of that sardonic view, and also he was very into action. He made a good screenwriter as a result."

Bishop's credits are many, both as a playwright and screenwriter. Plays produced on Broadway included The Trip Back Down, The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940, Elmer Gantry, Borderlines, The Great Grandson of Jedediah Kohler, Winter Signs and The Harvesting. He directed The Beaver Coat, El Salvador, Florida Crackers, and Empty Hearts. His screen credits included Drop Zone, The Package, Sliver and Beverly Hills Cops III. Described by the New Yorker as "one of our best dramatists," Bishop was 77.

He was an Emmy-winning television writer who helped create the animated Canadian Mountie Dudley Do-Right for the Rocky and Bullwinkle TV show. He contributed satire, wordplay, and puns for the Rocky and His Friends cartoon, later renamed The Bullwinkle Show. He also helped create The Munsters and in 1968, he won an Emmy for his work on the CBS sitcom He & She.

He is Chris Hayward and on November 20 -- at the age of 81 -- he died at his Beverly Hills home. Cancer was the cause.

Hayward was born in Bayonne, New Jersey. At age 17, he moved to Los Angeles where he studied scriptwriting and entered the world of television. His accomplishments include his work on Crusader Rabbit -- the first cartoon show created for television -- as well as Get Smart, My Mother the Car, and Barney Miller.

Hayward is survived by his wife and three children -- Laurel, Victoria, and Tony -- from a previous marriage.

Writer Richard Morris of www.breadandmoney.com coins the word nutritainment in a recent article about foods that are hyped to magically make us healthy -- foods that can cancel out cancer and wipe out heart disease. Nutritainment is nutritional news delivered in entertainment-like fashion, designed to urge consumers to buy into the latest, greatest super foods. Yet making small changes in diet -- what most consumers will do -- to incorporate these so-called powerful products is unlikely to do much good, Morris says. And he offers some thoughts on why the media continues to force this news down our throats and why we continue falling for their tactics.

Morris says human nature and marketplace economics motivate those engaged in nutritional sciences to strive for media attention and exposure. As a result, bits and pieces of nutritional studies make their way to medical journals and then land in media's lap through press releases. Some will even ghostwrite nutrition articles to promote products. These articles end up in the hands of the media and spread like wildfire to the public, in as-is format. Consumers may be left with the notion that these bits and pieces are important, relevant, non-biased research -- when this is not the case.

Morris says knowledgeable health experts who have the time to accurately report on important nutrition news are scarce. And when they do have time to share words of wisdom that really do matter, the packaging of the news is often technical and not so sensational. A headline that reads, Pomegranate juice packs power to prevent cancer will bury a scientific -- yet more accurate -- headline. Catchy headlines grab readers, and readers buy products. But headlines can be misleading -- and pomegranate juice alone is not likely to have many health benefits.

There are also issues with advertising and editorial content, according to Morris, who compares overall good nutrition to car maintenance. "Just like changing the air freshener in your car won't prevent a breakdown if the car desperately needs a tune-up, adding one item of magical food to your diet won't protect you from a breakdown either," he says and shares that a complete dietary makeover is what's necessary for good health -- that and stress reduction, physical activity, emotional balance, and life fulfillment. A quick dose of pomegranate juice may not do the trick. But a steady, consistent dose of these items will.

Beginning today, these words will be broadcast on various local Gainesville radio stations. These words are about breast cancer, about raising money for this serious disease, about Making Strides Against Breast Cancer, about the American Cancer Society. These words are about me. These are my words.

I'm Jacki. I'm someone you know. I'm a mother of two young sons, a wife, a sister, an aunt, a daughter, a friend. I am a freelance writer and a preschool teacher. I like to exercise and scrapbook and watch my little boys enjoy life's simple pleasures. I like pedicures, massages and candles. I'm 36 years old. I'm someone you know -- but I'm not alone.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer almost two years ago. And the American Cancer Society was instrumental in my recovery. I was comforted by their cancer programs and events, soothed by volunteers who called me at home to lend an ear, and educated by American Cancer Society literature and resources.

Join me for our Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk on Saturday, October 14th, at the North East Park in Gainesville at 7:30 a.m. to help fund breast cancer research. Visit www.cancer.org or call 1-800-ACS-2345 to learn how you can become involved. Because someone you know has breast cancer. I'm someone you know -- I'm a breast cancer survivor -- and with the American Cancer Society, I'm not alone.

There is no doubt that the new cervical cancer vaccine -- Gardasil -- is revolutionary. But writer Peter Sprigg, vice president for policy at the Family Research Council, shared yesterday on the washingtonpost.com that the public should consider two cautions when digesting the news of this breakthrough medical advance. He urges us, first, to understand that the vaccine is not 100 percent effective. It is 100 percent effective for the strains of human papillomavirus (HPV) it targets -- but it leaves 30 percent of HPV strains that cause cervical cancer untouched. And it does not prevent all cases of genital warts either. So it is largely effective. But it does not completely eradicate the disease.

Sprigg also believes that parents should determine whether or not their young girls get the vaccine -- that it should not be mandatory. Mandating the vaccine might be in order if HPV was spread through blood or casual contact. But it is not -- it is spread by sexual contact. And families of young girls might best address this issue through education on behavioral issues alone, without interference from the government.

The wonder of the cervical cancer vaccine is not in question by this writer and the council he represents. But there is often a full picture that lingers behind good news and sensational headlines. And Peter Sprigg offers his take on what he believes lingers behind.

When I first started going to counseling, I was told I would need eight to 10 sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy to help me deal with my anxiety, my panic, my fear of breast cancer recurrence. My first session was in May 2005 -- and I am still going. Those initial sessions are possibly all I really needed -- and perhaps I could have stopped the therapy long ago. But stopping never came up and no one told me I had to call it quits so I kept on marching into territory I had never before traveled. I have a degree in counseling -- but I'd never been counseled. I know how to listen to others and share empathy and ask open-ended questions -- but I'd never been the one talking and sharing and venting and crying and answering questions. Until last May -- when I discovered the appeal and the comfort of the counseling chair.

I marched into one of my sessions yesterday and plopped into a brown faux leather recliner. I talked about my recent graduation from Herceptin therapy and about how I might manage in life now that treatment is over. I talked about my jobs -- as a writer and a preschool teacher -- and how they fit into my world. I talked about the level of stress in my days and about how my once constant fear that cancer was trailing me has largely diminished. I talked about how breast cancer is no longer my constant companion -- about how it is now just an acquaintance. And I talked about how counseling was once so necessary and about how it is now just a luxury that helps me maintain peace as I live forward.

I am not sure when I will stop going to counseling. But I'm not completely sure of much anymore. And I've learned from counseling to not really question the future -- to just live in the moment and to give thought primarily to the here and now. And right here, right now, I'm sticking with my sessions, my one hour every month, my comforting counseling chair.

I found Sark long ago -- about 10 years ago when I was working with college students on a campus in Virginia. Part of my job was supervising Resident Assistants -- students who live and work on the residence hall floors and are responsible for building community among residents -- advising them and counseling them and mentoring them and stepping in when conflict and trouble arises. It's a tough job -- being a peer and being in charge at the same time -- and Resident Assistants receive intensive training on how to best manage a floor of students possibly living away from home for the first time. I got to train these student leaders at times -- and Sark's books helped me motivate, inspire, and get to know these individuals. And over the years, as I assumed other jobs and roles and purposes, I found that Sark was still a great companion for me. And now I realize that what Sark has to offer really applies to anyone looking for a little inspiration, a little direction, a little creativity, a little delight.