This past weekend I visited the Quonset Air Museum with my father and girlfriend, anxious to do so but finding it strange as I watched myself shape into the taciturn young boy I once was. At least, I was this way when I used to visit his house. My grandfather; Elwin (Al) Sparling, retired U.S. Navy pilot and to me -- from my childhood, up until his death about a year ago -- a strong, proud man known only as Bompa. I think I realized even as a child how ridiculous of a grandpa alternative name Bompa was, and I definitely know that it sounded strange when I had my last conversation with him in the hospital. Still, the moniker always seemed to carry an air of reverence in my mind, although in hindsight he probably couldn't stand having his now twenty-something and thirty-something year old grandchildren calling him that. But, he never complained about it. Not even once. That wasn't his way.

For longer than I had been alive, my grandfather had been undergoing a project of mammoth proportions; literally rebuilding, by hand, an exact replica of the plane that he flew in World War II, the F6F-3 Hellcat. If a kit of some kind existed for building this plane, he clearly opted against using it. Instead, he fashioned every last piece of this aircraft, and wired every inch of its electronics, with the help of only his blueprints and his memory. Before this project even started, he had fathered eight children and after the construction commenced, became "Bompa" to a number of grandchildren and, years later, great-grandchildren. For over thirty years, he toiled in an old barn during the little spare time that he had, determined to see his plane fly someday.

I can vaguely remember visiting him one idle Sunday morning with my father, probably close to twenty years ago. Even then, being as young as I was, I marveled at the site of the craft. Though at this point it was skeletal and clearly years away from completion, the plane was remarkable. Strewn about the barn were enormous sheets of metal, arcane control mechanisms, and a welter of odd-looking tools -- leading me to wonder, even to this day, how one man can build a plane in a barn. Or anywhere, for that matter. Clearly, he had no such doubt, for he forged on for years in that barn -- not playing the role of hobbyist, rather that of the impassioned builder.

Diabetes became the first enemy to strike Airman Sparling. What hundreds, if not thousands, of Japanese planes could not do while battling with my grandfather over the South Pacific, this disease was able to do with relative ease. First to be effected was his eyesight, rendering him unable to meet the requisite pilot licensure measures. As a result, his pilot license was revoked, and it immediately became clear that my grandfather would never again have the opportunity to operate an aircraft. Only a few years later, the retinopathy in his left leg had worsened to the point where it required amputation, making everyday life that much more difficult. Be this all as it may, he never once stopped going to the barn. Although in his 80s by this point, he still had a job to finish.

Cancer does not run in everyone's family, but it all too often still ends up being an unwelcome guest. This was the case for my grandfather, whose lineage did not foretell this part of the story. He was always a strong man, both in terms of his physicality and in sheer presence. But, a chink in his armor was formed when he lost his leg, when he was forced to hobble instead of walking tall. Cancer further ravaged him, from the inside out. He grew smaller, slower, older -- right before our eyes. The irony is that he finally started to look like someone that you would call Bompa, rather than someone who just let you get away with it. He knew that his time on earth was almost up, and quite honestly, so did everyone else. But, that stubborn old man refused to go without a fight. He refused to go without his plane.

I honestly forget the exact timeline, but I believe it was less than a month before he was admitted to the hospital that my uncle and a few other people brought my grandfather to the barn. They rolled the plane onto the expanse of grass that surrounded the wooden, makeshift hanger, and allowed my grandfather to see something that he had been waiting to see for over thirty years. The F6F-3 Hellcat. A World War II relic. Resurrected by the hands of a man whose own life was now nearing its end. Nothing had been changed or added; only the last bit of the engine's wiring had been circuited, based completely on my grandfather's notes. And then, it started. The engine roared as the propeller spun faster than the speed of time. The embodiment of an entire life's devotion to country, family, and personal achievement, spinning into infinity right before his eyes.

Memories of my grandfather are still quite vivid, something that I hope remains that way for the rest of my own life. But, being at the museum, staring at his plane and all the news clippings, it reminded me of things that I didn't realize I had already forgotten. Nothing tangible, like his family-famous turkey soup or his nickname for my sister, but more of the intangible feelings -- like how it felt to be in the room with him, and especially how it felt to be in a room with him and my father. Three generations sitting next to each other, each their own men but each a distinct part of the other. That exact feeling was brought back to me last Sunday, when my father and I stood before my grandfather's plane, as if it were the three of us in the room again. It made me sad that I had not spent more time with him when he was alive. It made me happy that his years of hard work and honorable military service were being properly recognized. And, above all, it made me proud to be part of his family.

All cells in our body are programmed to die. They have a limited lifespan and they die when they are damaged, worn out or no longer needed by the body. This is a normal process called apoptosis, programmed cell death, that the body depends on to be healthy. When cells die they are replaced by new ones.

In cancer cells the process of apoptosis fails and the damaged cells live on and multiply indefinitely and uncontrollably. Most chemotherapy drugs that are given to cancer patients are aimed at killing fast dividing cells, this is sometimes successful at halting the disease but these drugs damage many normal tissues.

Researchers look to find smarter drugs that do not have severe side effects but target only the cancer cell itself. A new drug being studied in the lab suggests that it may prove to be more effective and less toxic than current chemotherapy drugs. The drug called ABT-737 has a different strategy for attacking cancer. Instead of poisoning the cancer cells, the new drug attempts to reactivate the cell death program that had failed.

The leader of the project, Dr. David Huang says "Much more remains to be done to assess the drug's safety and effectiveness in patients, but early results from the laboratory are promising. Our hope is that the new drug will prove to be more effective while having fewer side effects".

I still can't believe I got breast cancer. I really can't believe it's been two years since my whole journey began.

I found a lump in my breast on November 16, 2004. It took eight days of doctoring and worry before the mystery that lingered beneath the skin of my left breast unfolded.

On November 16, 2004, I felt a lump in my left breast while taking a shower. I have always been aware of what my breasts feel like. I have a lot of dense tissue -- so dense that the surgeon who performed my breast reduction had trouble separating the tissue to take some out and leave some in.

My breasts always seem lumpy to me and I never knew if I'd be able to tell the difference between normal and abnormal tissue. Four years ago I had a mammogram because of something I felt. It all turned out fine -- it was just the dense tissue. All of my annual GYN visits have revealed nothing abnormal. But I've always been aware and curious which is why I found something in the shower. I knew it was not normal.

It was hard and felt like a small green pea. It moved around and for the first few days, I had a hard time locating it. Once I became obsessed with it, I could find it immediately.

Back in the summer of 2000, a year before I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was told I had an abnormal pap smear. Cancerous and precancerous changes in the cervical cells are often first detected by the pap test. A sample of cells are removed from the cervix and then examined under a microscope. If the pap test does come back abnormal the physician will usually schedule a colposcopy. I was advised after my abnormal pap smear to go through this procedure. A colposcopy is when the doctor will use a microscope to better see the cervix and find abnormal cells that he can then remove and further evaluate. This procedure was not any more uncomfortable than a normal gynecological visit, except for the mild cramping afterward.

Unfortunately upon further evaluation I was diagnosed with cervical dysplasia which lead to me getting the LEEP procedure, loop electrosurgical excision procedure, an outpatient surgery. I was very scared since I had never been put under general anesthesia. I came out of the surgery and again all that happened was more cramping throughout the next few days. Since that time I have had normal pap smears and never miss my yearly appointment to get this test done.

A phase II clinical trial suggests that daily treatment of Celebrex (celecoxib) may effectively treat high-grade precancerous changes to the cervix. The results were published in the journal Gynecologic Oncology. Celebrex belongs to the class of drugs known as non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. Researchers took 25 patients with high grade precancerous changes of the cervix and treated them with either Celebrex 200mg twice a day or a placebo.

The results showed that cervical abnormalities improved in 75 percent of patients treated with Celebrex and 31 percent of patients treated with the placebo. A complete disappearance of detectable cervical abnormalities was experienced by 33 percent of patients treated with Celebrex and 15 percent of patients treated with placebo.

The researchers conclude that Celebrex could offer a noninvasive approach to treating precancerous cervical changes. Larger studies are needed to confirm these findings.

Even though the LEEP procedure was not that terrible, it would have definitely been better to take a pill instead. I do hope this proves to be successful in the treatment of cervical dysplasia.

Patients with breast cancer that have disease progression after being treated with chemotherapy drugs, anthracyclines and taxanes, are left with limited treatment options. Researchers are always looking to find new drugs to keep the drug arsenal full for these women so they don't run out of treatment options. One chemotherapy might stop working on the cancer and it can become resistant so we need to have a plan B, C, D, E ...etc.

An article published in the British Journal of Cancer says that vinflunine provides anticancer activity among women who's cancer has recurred or progressed following prior therapy. This new chemotherapy drug is classified as a vinca alkaloid. The study showed that the anticancer response rate was 30 percent.

The positive results of this study will prompt further studies. Patients with recurrent breast cancer may wish to speak to their physician regarding their individual risks and benefits of participating in a clinic trial further evaluating vinflunine.

Belinda Emmett, 32, died over the weekend in a Sydney hospital. Emmett was only 24 years old in 1998 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was considered Australia's sweetheart and one of the most popular stars of Home and Away.

In 2001 the cancer returned and Belinda was diagnosed with bone metastasis. She spend the next five years seeking alternate therapies and using her celebrity to increase cancer awareness. She married Rove McManus, one of Australia's most popular television personalities, in January of 2005.

Belinda said of her husband "I don't think I could have gotten though this the way I have, if I hadn't had him here for support". She seemed to have a very strong spirit and said that she would accept the diagnosis of her disease but not the prognosis.

Checkoutmybreasts.com is a webpage that shows how to do a self breast exam. It shows a woman examining her breasts so other women can learn what to look for when performing a breast exam on herself. I was shocked a bit when I saw this website, as I have not seen anything like it before. The website also tells about an organization called Rethink Breast Cancer.

Rethink Breast Cancer is an organization that was established to help young people who are concerned about and effected by breast cancer through innovative breast cancer education, research and support programs. They do this by educating young women about the importance of breast health awareness, providing a community for young people to make a difference in the fight for the cause, raising funds to advance breast cancer research and raising awareness about the unique needs of young women who are battling breast cancer.

Rethink Breast Cancer fills a unique niche in the world of breast cancer organizations in Canada by hosting dynamic fashion, music and fitness events to attract the attention of people under 40, spreading the important messages of breast cancer to a new audience.

(Thanks to Deb Kirkland for the tip)

Lymphedema is a chronic condition that causes excess fluid to collect in tissue and produce swelling. In breast cancer survivors the swelling can occur in the arm or hand because the lymphatic system has been compromised by surgery or radiation. Its an unattractive and painful reminder of having breast cancer that never goes away.

Robin Miller, 23, and Rachel Levin, 36, are young breast cancer survivors that developed lymphedema after their breast cancer treatment. They were required to wear an uncomfortable, beige orthopedic-looking sleeve. They decided that there had to be a better solution for the look and feel of the sleeves they would have to wear. They approached Kristin Dudley, a Drexel fashion design graduate, with the idea of creating fashionable compression garments that would bring together form and function.

These three friends have made it their mission to help breast cancer survivors manage their lymphedema in a fashionable way, and inspire them to feel confident and attractive with their company called LympheDIVAs. The armsleeves are made of high-tech fibers and come in fashionable colors and designs.

"The look and style of the sleeves has remained the same for over 30 years" said Rachel Levin. "There is absolutely no reason it can't look stylish and still be an effective medical device"

Sometimes all it takes is a small gesture to warm the heart of a cancer patient. It doesn't take anything huge. It shouldn't cause any stress or discomfort. And it shouldn't require a whole lot of thought. It should be simple. Simply simple.

A whole lot of small gestures spread a whole lot of cheer my way when I was knee-deep in cancer treatment and needed a lift. Cozy socks kept my feet and my spirits toasty. A package of brownies sweetened my sour days. Flowers brightened my dining room and my state of mind. Books left on my doorstep delivered knowledge and wisdom and a bit of humor to my world.

The options for spreading sunshine are endless. The list of possibilities could go on and on. Here is just a start -- a small list of small gestures that can make a dreary day downright delightful.

Give a hug
Send a handwritten letter
Make a homemade card
Write a poem
Give a journal
Deliver a candle
Make a home-cooked meal
Arrange for food delivery
Babysit children
Play with children
Drive to appointments
Go wig or hat shopping
Visit during chemotherapy sessions
Give something comfy -- socks, pajamas, hat
Do grocery shopping
Accompany to lunch, dinner, movie
Take a walk
Attend church
Have a picnic
Go fishing
Make a donation to favorite charity
Walk, run, volunteer, raise funds in honor of your special someone

Be specific in your gesturing. Trade a comment like "let me know if I can do anything" for "I'm going to come over and wash and clean your car on Saturday." Vague offers are rarely successful -- cancer patients are not likely to recall every general offer they receive and then manage them all into a schedule. It's just too much to consider in the midst of turmoil. But an offer that comes to life right before them is easy. It's effortless. It is truly a gift. A simple, priceless gift.