OK, women of the world. Grab some paper and a pen and jot down this list of seven check-ups every woman needs. Don't just write them down, though. Make sure you take action on each and every one. They might just save your life.

1. Start with your weight, height, and BMI (body mass index). The scores you get on these simple tests are important because many conditions and diseases are associated with being overweight or underweight.

2. Check your blood pressure, and find out where you stand because hypertension is a disease with no symptoms. High blood pressure puts you at risk for cardiovascular disease -- but there are very effective treatments for this condition.

As I worked my way to the check-out cubicle at my oncology office yesterday, I carried with me the small stack of paperwork my doctor had handed me. There was a sheet denoting all my charges -- of course. There were orders for a mammogram and MRI. There was a summary of sorts about my visit. I handed each of these papers to the woman eagerly awaiting receipt of my money -- but before I let them leave my hands, I noticed a check mark on one of the papers. It was located right next to words: No cancer present, in remission. There were other words -- like cancer recurrence -- where my check mark could have landed. But it didn't. I ended up just where I want it be, just where I want it to stay.

A simple check mark brightened my day. It's not that I thought my cancer had returned. It's just that my every-three-month check-ups open the door for this possibility. I go to these appointments for a reason -- to identify cancer's current role in my life -- and so there's always a chance something will be discovered. But not today.

No cancer present, in remission. These are five of the most beautiful words ever written about me.

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 just read a breast cancer survivor's commentary about the color pink -- about how she hates pink, is sick of seeing pink, is tired of companies capitalizing on the breast cancer color in order to sell products. She calls the color wimpy and too feminine -- and while she accepts that she may just be grumpy about this topic, she is not too happy that pink is the color that symbolizes a serious disease. She would have preferred red or purple, colors that signify strength and power. But pink is what we've got -- and I happen to be okay with it.

I'm okay with pink because I like the color. I'm okay with it because it's recognizable -- and there can't be too many people out there who don't know that pink and breast cancer go hand in hand. To me, the color itself raises awareness. If I buy a pink vacuum cleaner and am reminded of the words breast and cancer each time I suck up dirt from my carpet, then I'm in the loop -- even if minimally. And if it prompts me to check my own breasts or schedule a screening appointment, then I benefit. I'm not sure a green vacuum cleaner would have the same effect. And when I wear my new Key to the Cure t-shirt -- with a pink ribbon gracing the front -- and someone inquires about the shirt, I will have an opportunity to spread some words about breast cancer. Pink doesn't have to be wimpy. It can be powerful.

There are surely companies out there taking advantage of the color pink because it sells. But if sales truly benefit breast cancer research, then it's a win-win situation in my opinion. I am happy that $31 of my $35 t-shirt goes directly to breast cancer initiatives. Sure, the shirt was a bit expensive. But so is breast cancer -- and I have the bills to prove it -- so if simply buying a pink ribbon t-shirt allows me to walk around as a billboard and allows breast cancer research some more momentum, then I am game.

I will wear my new shirt when I run in the Making Strides Against Breast Cancer 5K event in two weeks. And I will wear a bright pink ribbon in my hair. And I may even wear pink shorts. Because I think pink is empowering. And I'm happy it's everywhere -- because it illustrates that breast cancer is everywhere. And that is not okay.

Roy Thayers has experienced death up close, as he was caregiver for his first wife as she battled cancer -- he knows what it is like to watch someone fight for their life -- and he was there when she lost her life to cancer.

Thayers, who at the age of 77 lives alone, was recently told by his doctors that he was at risk for a fatal heart attack and might lose his life if he didn't undergo heart surgery to unblock the heart valves immediately.

The problem of avoiding death and living longer became a matter of time and money. When the NHS put Thayers on a nine-month waiting list for heart surgery, he worried he might not have that long to wait -- considering the urgency with which the doctors had impressed upon him concerning the imminent threat of a fatal heart attack without surgery. He was told he could have the surgery immediately if he paid for it himself.

A friend of mine told me last year about her friend who was featured in a newspaper article about a program called Buddy Check 12. I read the article online and cataloged the gist of the story in my head. But I didn't do much with the information as I was in the midst of treatment for breast cancer and thought perhaps at a later date, I could better sort through the abundance of resources that were sent my way.

One lucky couple was chosen -- from a pool of more than 450 couples who competed in ESPN's Marriage Madness competition -- as winner of the ultimate ESPN sports wedding. With listeners of the Mike & Mike in the Morning national TV and radio show as voters, Catherine and Jason West, now husband and wife, were married May 26, 2006 on ESPN. Noteworthy is the fact that both Catherine and Jason are die-hard University of Florida Gator fans -- they met at a Gator tailgating party and were engaged at Lake Alice, a popular outdoor spot on campus. The bride wore crystal Gator beadwork on her gown and the groom's tuxedo jacket was lined in Gator orange. The maid of honor wore a Gator blue dress and carried an orange bouquet. The wedding vows included the traditional messages of love, honor, and respect -- but some sports twists were sprinkled in too. The Wests took away a check for $20,000, compliments of hosts Mike Greenberg and Mike Golic, and they will soon head off on an all-expense paid sports-inspired honeymoon.

This wedding is inspired not just by sports.  It is also inspired by cancer survival. Catherine -- who became engaged on the one-year anniversary of her first breast cancer surgery -- is now in full cancer remission. And a $2,500 donation was made in the couple's name to the V Foundation, a cancer fund in memory of Jim Valvano, a former North Carolina State basketball coach and ESPN broadcaster. This is surely an event to remember.