The following post is one of a series of posts appearing Monday through Friday on The Cancer Blog. This feature -- Today, I am grateful -- allows me to share with readers my appreciation for all the treasures in my life, both big and small. In my post-cancer world, I find It healing for my soul to be mindful of the good in my life. It is my pleasure to share my gratitude with you.

Losing my hair was one of my most traumatic cancer experiences. When first told I needed chemotherapy, I didn't fret about the poisons that would circulate throughout my body, or the nausea that might strike me. What I feared most was losing my hair. It seems silly now. I mean, hair is just hair. If I could trade my hair right now for a guarantee that cancer would never return, I'd do it. But three years ago, when cancer was new and my self-image was faltering, I couldn't stand the thought of losing it.

I did OK once my hair was gone. I found great human-hair wigs and I learned to enjoy my shower-and-go morning routine. I could get ready in an instant. It was all kind of liberating really. Now, don't get me wrong. I was glad when my hair came back. And every day when I look in the mirror, I am comforted by the fact that long dark hair now covers my head. Yes, hair is just hair. But there's just something about it that makes me feel well, happy.

Today, I am grateful for my hair.

Wouldn't it be great if we could receive full-body scans every year to check for early signs of cancer and other disease? Even if possible and affordable -- right now, scans cost about $900 -- it still wouldn't be such a great idea.

Full-body scans often result in false alarms. People with harmless abnormalities may end up facing more tests, more risks, and more worry in order to rule out illness. The scan itself can present health hazards too. It exposes patients to more radiation than a chest X-ray and could slightly increase the risk of cancer, especially for those scanned every year.

How do we know, then, if something has gone awry in our bodies? Well, we can do our self-exams -- breast exams, testicular exams, skin exams -- and we can report for annual check-ups. We can respond to symptoms we experience -- if headaches are bothersome and persistent, your doctor may prescribe a head scan -- and we can pursue tests and screening that we really need for cancer prevention and early detection. Here are just a few:

I AM THE CURE is the Susan G. Komen new rallying cry. Intended to urge us to take an active role in our own breast health and remind us that we all play an important part in finding a cure, these are words to live by. I think I won't soon forget them -- because I have a new key chain inscribed with all four of them.

My aunt just participated in the Aspen Race for the Cure, and she sent me all the goodies she picked up at the race. She gave me the Ford Warriors in Pink scarf -- I've always wanted one and can't wait to wear it on October 20 when I run in my local Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event. She also passed on to me a race t-shirt, the sign she wore on her back -- in celebration of my beautiful niece Jacki, it read -- and pink ribbon magnets, sunscreen, a Warriors in Pink temporary tattoo, and all sorts of other little trinkets. The key chain was one of them.

My new key chain features four different sized pink metal circles, each one dangling from the key ring. On each circle, there is one word. From the smallest circle to the largest, the words I -- AM -- THE -- CURE appear. All on their own, these circles are pretty powerful. But there's more. On an insert that came with the key chain is an explanation for each circle.

Good Morning America coanchor Robin Roberts returned to work on Monday, a little more than one week after her breast cancer surgery. Some think her return was a bit hasty. Some think it was the absolute right thing to do. I'm of this camp -- the jump-back-into-life approach. It's exactly what I did after my surgery and throughout every step of my treatment. And while there were surely days I could have cut myself some slack, I tried to keep on my toes. It was the only way I knew how to manage the chaos of cancer.

In the spirit of helping women cope with their breast cancer diagnoses, Roberts' very own doctor offers some insightful words of wisdom. Click here for guidance about returning to work, managing through surgery and radiation, maintaining emotional health, and the importance of mammograms and self-exams.

What is your take on how Roberts is handling cancer and how her doctor is handling the topics that become critical in the fight against this disease?

If you plan to tune in to Good Morning America on Monday, you'll see Robin Roberts looking back at you. The co-anchor, 46, expects to back at work on August 13, just 10 days after surgery for breast cancer.

Roberts, who was just recently diagnosed with breast cancer after finding a lump during a self-exam, is still waiting for the test results that will determine her course of therapy. Right now, though, she feels great and looks forward to returning to work alongside Diane Sawyer.

ABC's Good Morning America co-anchor Robin Roberts is at home resting after a successful surgery for breast cancer. Pathology reports will take some time to pocess, but when more information is available, the public will be updated, says a Good Morning America spokesperson.

Roberts, 46, told her story recently in an e-mail.

I never thought I'd be writing this. ... I have breast cancer," writes Roberts.

That's Fit blogger Jonathon Morgan wrote on May 25 about five sunscreen myths. In the spirit of Skin Cancer Awareness Month, it seems appropriate to mention this thought-provoking news here on this site.

I just heard a radio commercial about a certain sunscreen, claiming the product is so good consumers need only apply the lotion one time during an eight-hour time frame. It seems, according to the following list of myths, this is not exactly true.

Myth #1: Sunscreens protect all day.
Fact: Regardless of the SPF or what the label says, sunscreens must be reapplied every two hours because active ingredients in most products break down when exposed to the sun.

Yesterday I visited the High Points Monument at High Point State Park. It was a fitting day to visit the monument -- Memorial Day. The monument was built and dedicated to the memory of New Jersey's wartime heros. Construction was started in 1928 and completed in 1930.

My husband and I climbed the stairs up the 220- foot structure for a breathtaking view of the ridges of the Pocono Mountains, the Catskill Mountains and the Wallkill River Valley.

The high points in my life can come unexpectedly. I think we should all think about what the high points in our lives have been and cherish the memories. A camping trip in an RV, my husband and two dogs this weekend was definitely a high point in my life. High points don't have to be something monumental -- no pun intended. High points can be small things that make the day a joyful one.

Find as many high points in your life as you can.

Kelly Jo Dowd, mom of 14-year-old golf sensation Dakoda Dowd, died of breast cancer in her Palm Harbor, Fla. home Thursday night. She was 42.

Dowd spent years battling the disease that had spread to her bones, liver, and brain. She also spent years waiting to see her young daughter play in an LPGA event. Her wish came true last spring.

"I'm prouder today than I was yesterday that my daughter has the courage and strength to play with these LPGA professionals," Dowd said after the Ginn Clubs & Resorts LPGA tournament. "And I feel great right now. I feel great. My dream came true out here."

As Skin Cancer Awareness Month winds down, I find myself hoping you have learned a thing or two about a disease that is far more common than we tend to believe, a diseases that in some cases is downright deadly.

The month of May will soon drift away. Skin cancer will not -- unless of course we make huge, swift strides in prevention. Until this happens, though, the best we can do is be vigilant about early detection. I have an idea. Well, an idea I'm borrowing from The Archives of Dermatology.

The idea: photography. Studies show patients who use photographs of their own skin for reference are better able to detect skin changes while conducting self-examinations.

Advocacy runs far and wide. Thank goodness for that.

Think about this:

A new breast cancer non-profit organization has been launched especially for South Africans affected by the disease.

Founded by Samantha Galliet, the 31-year-old breast cancer survivor who made headlines with her "David and Goliath" battle to get life-saving Herceptin treatment, created PinkLink to give patients affected by breast cancer a voice.

PinkLink, focusing on the need for self-examination and awareness to encourage prevention and early detection of this silent epidemic, is intended to be a one-stop-shop with valuable South African based information on doctors, treatments, financial considerations, and health issues.

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.
  

Women whose wedding dresses are created by bridal gown designer Aimee Lauren get a little something extra when they purchase their dream dresses. They get something of a twist -- a pink twist, in the form of a ribbon.

Each of Lauren's brides gets a pink breast cancer ribbon sewn on the inside lining over the left breast of their custom gowns -- a reminder for them to check their breasts for life. It's Lauren's way of saying, don't forget, please don't forget.

Most of Lauren's clients are young -- in their 20s and 30s -- and are not thinking of breast cancer. But they should be. Because breast cancer happens to young women -- like Lauren, who was diagnosed with the disease at a young age and in the midst of climbing the New York fashion ladder. She found a lump in her left breast during a monthly self exam. And now she is forever diligent about breast cancer awareness and early detection.

At fittings, Lauren never misses the opportunity to educate her brides about taking charge of their own health.

"I don't ever want to hear somebody say ever again that it doesn't happen to young people," she says. " It can happen to anyone."

From houseplants to raised beds, to plant a seed, tend the soil, and watch a plant grow is one of the most inspiringly hopeful of activities. In hopefulness is found a kind of healing. According to the American Horticultural Therapy Association, horticulture therapy is defined as "a process utilizing plants and horticultural activities to improve social, educational, psychological and physical adjustment of persons thus improving their body, mind, and spirit." The American Cancer Society offers a list of some of horticulture therapy benefits one can expect from gardening that include:

• Feelings of hope.
• Stress reduction.
• Social interaction.
• Pain relief.
• Improved muscle tone, flexibility, and cardiopulmonary capability.
• Creativity and self-expression.
• Enhanced self-esteem and improved mood.
• Motor skill development.
  

As the New Year arrives, so do the gardening catalogs in the mail. Interested in receiving gardening catalogs but not certain where to start? Cyndi's Catalog of Garden Catalogs lists over 2,000 mail-order gardening catalogs for the home gardener.

Two of my favorite gardening websites and online catalogs are found at Seeds of Change and Seed Savers Exchange.

At Seeds of Change, you can find garden seeds, seed collections, cover crops, seedlings, fruit trees, garden tools, kitchen items, and a bookstore. All organic. In addition, Seeds of Change publishes a newsletter.

Seed Savers Exchange is a nonprofit organization that saves and shares heirloom seeds. According to Seed Savers Exchange, "Our organization is saving the world's diverse, but endangered, garden heritage for future generations by building a network of people committed to collecting, conserving and sharing heirloom seeds and plants, while educating people about the value of genetic and cultural diversity."

But, wherever you start, once you catch the gardening bug, you will understand why horticulture therapy is becoming an integrated part in healing programs adopted at some of the medical centers across the country.