How are children surviving cancer today? Better than ever before. Some childhood cancer patients, now in their young adult years, are expecting to reach milestones in their lives others before them never would have reached.

Today, 1 in 1,000 young adults in the United States is a childhood cancer survivor. In the 1970s, the chance a child would outlive leukemia or lymphoma was 25 percent. Today, it's 80 percent. That's better than most adult recovery rates.

As recovery rates rise, a new frontier is on the horizon -- follow-up for these young people as they age. You see, the very treatments that saved these individuals may cause them complications later in life. It's not yet clear what happens when kids live 20 to 30 years beyond diagnosis. But teams at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, plan to find out as they launch one of the most ambitious follow-up programs to date. Contacting 5,000 patients who have survived for more than 10 years, doctors hope they will recruit a group to receive free check-ups for life. They'll also receive blood tests, MRI scans, even fertility counseling. Their medical histories will serve as rich textbooks for medical professionals and future patients -- so the war on childhood cancer can continue.

I was trained months ago to serve as a Reach to Recovery volunteer for the American Cancer Society (ACS). My purpose: to meet face-to-face with women facing breast cancer, to offer them some measure of comfort, to help them manage their overwhelming emotions, to provide them with information and resources, to impart hope during a time of fear and uncertainty.

For months, I had not been called upon to meet with anyone in my community. I'd like to think this is a good thing -- a sign of decreasing breast cancer cases perhaps -- but I tend to believe it stems from a hesitancy to ask for help or a lack of knowledge about this support program. Regardless, I got my first call last week. And I made my first visit. And these are my first impressions of my first encounter as a Reach to Recovery volunteer.

The Reach to Recovery program operates on the premise of matching like-cancer survivors. I was matched with a young woman -- she is 31; I am 37, although my diagnosis came at age 34 -- and each of us was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer. We both had surgery, both have young children, both feel a little sad that because of cancer, we likely won't have more children. We connected. We bonded. For a little more than one hour, we were in the same boat. Together, we tackled rough waters.

The way I see it, there are two threads common to the journeys of many cancer patients and survivors -- the desire to hear stories of others walking in similar shoes and the desire to be heard.

These threads have definitely woven themselves throughout my own cancer experience. When first diagnosed, I searched long and hard for personal stories of women struggling with and conquering breast cancer. Once I was well on my road to recovery, I wanted others to hear my story, in hopes it would resonate with those looking for the same comfort I once craved.

Won't you consider sharing your story too? It might just help you. It will surely help others.

Think about this:

On the Discovery Health website, an offer awaits you.

"We would love to hear your story," reads a portion of the site. "So would the many others who share your relationship to Cancer."

If you are at least 18 years of age and have a few minutes to spare, simply call 888-890-6339 and follow the instructions to record your voice. When all stories are ready to be published in podcast format, an online notice will be posted.

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Movie critic Roger Ebert expects to be back to work at his annual festival for overlooked movies this week. It will be his first public appearance since having cancer surgery last summer -- and while some say his appearance may attract the gossip papers, Ebert says, "So what?"

Ebert, 64, will be seen at the ninth annual Overlooked Film Festival, beginning today at the University of Urbana-Champaign, wearing a gauze bandage around his neck. And his mouth will be seen to droop, he says.

This is all because of Ebert's tracheostomy -- it opens an airway through an incision in his windpipe, rendering him speechless -- that resulted from his June 16 surgery to remove a cancerous growth on his salivary gland and a subsequent July 1 surgery to repair a burst blood vessel close to the same site.

On Tuesday, Ebert shared that his cancer began in his salivary gland but then spread to his lower right jaw. As a result, part of his mandible was removed and two surgeries were necessary to reconstruct the area. Both surgeries were unsuccessful, however, and led to unanticipated bleeding.

"The doctors now plan an approach that does not involve the risk of unplanned bleeding," Ebert, a film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times since 1967, says. "If all goes well, my speech will be restored."

This cancer survivor, who says we spend too much time hiding illness and is proud to be back in the spotlight, has also co-hosted the Ebert & Roeper television show with fellow Sun-Times columnist Richard Roeper since 2000. Film critics and filmmakers have been filling in for Ebert during his recovery.

Virginia Congresswoman Jo Ann Davis announced this week that she has been diagnosed with breast cancer -- again. Her first bout with the disease began in October 2005. Her recurrence was spotted last month during her recovery from an unrelated medical procedure.

Davis, who received both a mastectomy and chemotherapy treatment during her first battle with breast cancer, knows she will conquer cancer for a second time.

"This cancer is treatable," Davis says. "I have just begun chemotherapy and I am very confident of a full recovery. I was able to beat this disease before, and I will beat it once again. I again plan on working throughout this process, and I once again believe that this experience will help me in serving Virginia's First Congressional District."

Davis, who is at home recovering from a ruptured ureter, will return to Washington this month.

I'm just waiting for the call -- the call that prompts my first visit with any number of newly-diagnosed breast cancer patients who want someone to lend an ear, a shoulder, and a few good tips for steering through a scary journey.

I am a new American Cancer Society Reach to Recovery volunteer, trained this past Saturday and ready to help others who are slipping into the shoes I started wearing two years ago. I was first a recipient of this program -- designed to match new breast cancer patients with veteran survivors through face-to-face visits -- and I know well the comfort that comes from the support of someone not so overwhelmed by cancer. So now it's my turn to offer the comfort. And I am oh so ready.

I am armed with literature, communication techniques, gift bags for my patients, and my own official volunteer pin. And while I am a bit anxious about how my first meeting will go, I learned on Saturday that my mere presence will be enough to calm the women whose lives I am about to touch.

There is no better vision for someone just diagnosed with breast cancer than a healthy, happy woman who happens to be surviving the same disease. And so it is hope that I will spread and my unspoken portrayal of life after cancer that will inspire these women. My words will be icing on the cake. It's me these women want to see. And it's these women I want to see as I begin to reach to recovery -- a recovery I suspect will largely be my own.

Pancreatic cancer is one of the deadliest forms of cancer. So any bit of progress on the pancreatic cancer front is a big deal. And researchers are happy to report they've found a chemotherapy drug that can help patients who have received surgery prevent a return of the disease for a longer period of time.

In a German study, participants who received Gemzar, or gemcitabine, lived an average of 13.4 months without their cancers coming back. Participants who did not receive the drug lived without the disease for 6.9 months. While the findings of this study may seem modest, they really are quite encouraging because pancreatic cancer is such a rapid killer, and patients with this disease have the worst chances of recovery.

This study, published in Wednesday's Journal of the American Medical Association, brings hope for the mere 20 percent of pancreatic cancer patients who are candidates for surgery. While surgery is the best hope for a cure, the disease still returns in the majority of cases -- so Gemzar is surely worth a shot.

It should be noted that some study authors report financial ties to Gemzar drugmaker Eli Lilly and Co. Researchers, however, report the firm had no influence in design or data interpretation.

Survivorship is the new cancer buzz word -- and what an important word it is. Once left to each individual to define, manage, and transcend, survivorship is now recognized as a distinct phase of cancer recovery -- just as important, and maybe even more so, than diagnosis and treatment.

Linda Griggs, a 13-year breast cancer survivor, clearly remembers the day her chemotherapy ended. With her therapy complete, her hair growing back, and her medical team sending her off to have a nice life, she thought she'd be fine. But she wasn't.

Three months after her last dose of chemotherapy, Griggs was depressed, consumed with worry about how her cancer might come back. And she realized that the end of treatment is not really the end. It's just the beginning.

Griggs told her doctor about her anxiety, about how she was just trying to make it to her next three-month-check up. When her doctor told her, "that's not living," something clicked for Griggs who instantly decided to start living -- really living.

Surviving is about self-nurturing, says Griggs, who has created a kit to help others survive cancer. On her website, she writes that there are a couple of other breast cancer survivor kits out there -- containing tissues, herbal teas, meditation tapes, medical appointment books, and breast cancer resource materials.

"This is not that," she says of her kit that focuses on the emotional upheaval cancer creates.

Griggs' kit is full of hands-on creative materials -- like an inner child notebook, complete with magic markers for journaling and expressing emotions. If you're angry, you can write down angry thoughts. If you're sad, write what makes you sad. Save the pages, tear them up, burn them, do what you wish -- but allow your emotions to flow, Griggs says.

The kit also includes a wooden box with instructions on how to create a healing shrine, a copy of Griggs' non-fiction account of the first five years of her cancer journey, and so much more.

Griggs, who also teaches healing workshops, guides others to understand cancer as a hero's quest. She says when something happens to us -- death, divorce, disease -- we are receiving a call to adventure. All bet's are off. We must start fresh, gather our spirit guides, collect ourselves, dive into the underworld, overcome, and then emerge full of wisdom of growth.

Griggs has emerged -- full of her own wisdom and growth. She is a hero -- on a quest to help others survive a disease that threw her way off track for way too long.

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

I am jingling and jangling with charms around my wrist once again. Ever since I was diagnosed with breast cancer, my friend Nicole has sent me a Brighton breast cancer bracelet. My very first bracelet arrived in 2004, and I wore it proudly. My second bracelet arrived in 2005 and took the place of the first. And now, as I enter my third year of survival, my 2006 Power of Pink bracelet dangles from my arm.

This year's bracelet features a heart-shaped locket. Other charms -- designed to represent stepping stones to recovery -- feature key survival terms. Brighton tells it like this -- "When we accept, we open the door to trust and find love that will heal. Along the way, we learn to be the inspiration." And there are still more charms -- a breast cancer awareness ribbon signifying a fight for the cure, a four leaf clover to assure luck is on our side, silver beads for richness, clear crystals for truth and purity. And still, there are more.

Brighton recommends we all make a difference in the breast cancer crusade. Some may choose to chip in by contributing financially. Some may volunteer. Some may lend a sympathetic ear to others in need. Some may purchase and wear the 2006 Power of Pink bracelet -- proceeds benefit breast cancer research -- and this one simple act will send an empowering message to women everywhere.

An Easier Recovery is a company that was founded by Catherine E. McGrath. Catherine created three products that can help make a woman's journey through breast cancer treatment a little bit easier. Being a breast cancer survivor herself and going through surgery, chemotherapy and radiation, Catherine saw a need.

One of the products that Catherine designed is called The Jackie. Unlike the Johnnies we are familiar with, The Jackie is specifically designed for women going through the breast cancer treatment and recovery process. It's features include being very warm and cozy, having specially designed pockets for holding the drains and the Velcro buttons on the sleeve gives easy arm access for taking blood pressure or blood samples.

Another great idea is the Been There Bag. This bag is a great gift if you know someone who has been diagnosed with breast cancer. It is filled with things that a woman might need while going through chemotherapy. Some items include special mouth wash, lotions, tee oil and lip balm.

The final of the three items you can find on the website can help you keep your cancer paperwork organized. We all know how much of it can accumulate. Its always a great idea to keep all your information together in one place. Insurance paperwork, disability and Medicare forms, pharmacy and medicine information, doctor reports and also bills and receipts.

I know for sure that dangling drains are painful! I had to come up with my own creative ideas when I was diagnosed. Its nice to see someone addressing these special issues.

Just two months after her mother lost her battle with gall bladder cancer, Liane was diagnosed with breast cancer. It all happened earlier this year -- and while Liane is still mourning the loss of her mother, she is also still managing the madness of her own disease. Liane is surviving with courage, with determination, with the same powerful spirit that powered her mother's fight.

Liane lives in a small city -- population 43,000 -- in northern Alberta Canada. She has been happily married for 18 years and has two daughters, ages 13 and 15, and a golden retriever named Sunny. Liane loves to garden, cook, read, and spend time with family. She normally works full-time in a real estate and property management office but has been blessed with six months off for treatment. Liane is already -- without a doubt -- a survivor.

I have had a hard time keeping my counseling appointments lately. Life keeps getting in the way, and counseling keeps getting pushed to the side. The last time I called my counselor to cancel -- due to an emergency room trip with my three-year-old -- I mentioned that my inability to keep up with sessions was perhaps a precursor to an eventual termination of our counseling relationship. My counselor -- Lindsay -- said this was maybe an accurate assessment, that we should discuss the possibility of an ending point. We haven't yet discussed it, though, because I have not made the time to contact her. I have continued to leave counseling on the back burner.

But today Lindsay sent me an e-mail to check in. She wrote that I am probably going to be okay on my own now -- in the aftermath of cancer -- and that we should have one final session to reflect on my progress over the past 16 months. I have not replied to Lindsay -- not because I am busy with other things but simply because her words made me cry. They still make me cry, hours later. I'm not exactly sure why. And I'm not exactly sure how I will follow up on scheduling my very last session.

I assume my tears -- my sadness -- are part of the healing process, part of the separation anxiety I feel each time a part of my treatment ends and a part of my life moves on. I assume I am sad at the prospect of leaving a vital part of my recovery behind, about leaving the comfort of my counseling chair, about leaving Lindsay. The possibilities are endless. And I suppose we will cover all possibilities when Lindsay and I sit down for our last, final, concluding session -- when we recall how much I have grown since the day we first met, when I could barely mutter a word about cancer without weeping uncontrollably, when I could barely manage to find pleasure in my days, when I could barely imagine that life could -- and would -- offer me peace and happiness.

Today, life is good. And it's clear that counseling is no longer necessary for my survival. But that doesn't make it any easier to make my final appointment. To contemplate saying my last goodbye. To tackle life completely on my own. Which is what I will do -- in time -- so I can continue moving on, away from breast cancer.

There's a bit of breast cancer news in just about every magazine out there -- news about treatments and protocols and studies, news about celebrity diagnoses, news about lives lost to breast cancer and lives conquering breast cancer, news that is scattered here and there and everywhere. But now, there is a magazine all about breast cancer -- and just about breast cancer. All sorts of breast cancer wisdom is conveniently packaged into one slick, glossy publication that debuted on newsstands yesterday, September 19.

Beyond: Live & Thrive After Breast Cancer is a semi-annual publication from Meredith Special Interest Media, part of the Meredith Corporation -- a leading media and marketing company and home to magazines such as Better Homes and Gardens, Ladies' Home Journal, Parents, and Fitness. Meredith's new breast cancer venture provides women living with the disease -- and those who may one day encounter it -- with support and with the latest information on treatment and recovery.

The Fall/Winter 2006 premiere issue of Beyond features a cover story about Dallas Mayor Laura Miller, a survivor forging ahead into a life beyond breast cancer. Also filling the pages are inspiring real-life profiles and stories, nutritional advice, up-do-date medical information, fashion tips, the Pink Pages -- a resource guide that details upcoming races and products that support breast cancer -- and much more.

Behind the scenes of this issue is an advisory board of leading experts in the breast cancer field. Experts include Susan Brown, the health manager at Susan G. Komen Foundation; Carolyn M. Kaelin, director of Comprehensive Breast Health Center and breast cancer survivor; and Lillie Shockney, Administrative Director at Johns Hopkins Breast Cancer.

If there is one theme common to women surviving breast cancer, it must be the desire to live beyond the control of this life-threatening and life-changing illness, to recapture an existence that resembles something normal, to embark on a journey outside the confines of cancer. Tips, techniques, strategies, and inspiration for accomplishing these feats are printed on the pages of this new magazine that is sure to reach its intended audience -- that today includes two million women who are living with breast cancer.

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.