Check out this great post from Karyn Brianne, Blogger Advisory Council Member, at the Fab Giver:

Health has always been an issue close to my heart. Growing up, I had my heart set on becoming a doctor because I’ve always believed that if you don’t have your health, everything else suffers. In college, however, I decided that being healthy starts before the treatment process. Every day that we wake up, there are things that we can do to take steps to being as healthy as we can be. So, I decided to study marketing and use those communication skills to promote healthy behaviors and empower others to take an active role in their health. And, as a member of the American Cancer Society’s Blogger Advisory Council, I’m committed to using my online presence to do just that.

This week marks National Minority Cancer Awareness Week, and recognizing this issue is very important to me. As an African-American, I was blown away to learn that we have the highest death rate and shortest survival of any racial and ethnic group in the US for most cancers. National Minority Cancer Awareness Week is about recognizing the health disparities that exist within our communities and encouraging action to help shrink the gap. About fifty percent of cancer deaths can be prevented through regularly scheduled screenings, healthy eating, regular physical activity and quitting tobacco use. However, minorities continue to have lower screening rates than whites; report less physical activity than recommended, and consume less fruits, vegetables and whole grains.

These simple lifestyle changes can go a long way towards ensuring that we are around to see more birthdays for ourselves and those that we love. I’m dedicating this post to my maternal grandmother, maternal great-aunt, maternal great uncle, maternal great-cousin, paternal great-grandfather, and paternal (step) grandfather. They passed away due to cancer and build a strong case for why I have to take the necessary steps to be as healthy as I possibly can. I’ll admit that I don’t know all the facts and haven’t been as healthy as I should be, but I’m committed to making that change. This week, I’m setting up appointments ranging from a general checkup to screenings necessary for my health and I encourage you to do the same.

The ACS is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at 1-800-227-2345 to help answer any questions about cancer and provide information on what resources exist for free or low cost cancer screenings. Get the facts, understand your medical history, and commit to your health! Some might say that it’s easier said than done, but when has that ever stopped us?

To learn more about the American Cancer Society, please visit cancer.org.

You never forget birthdays that are special to you… for me it was my 7th birthday and my mom orchestrated a surprise party in our garage. She did it with such secrecy and pizazz and that I will never forget… It was a typical Saturday at our house.  I had a soccer game in the morning and my mom had made cupcakes for the team instead of the usual orange slices.  I had told my mom I wanted a party but it was a week or so away so I wasn’t really thinking about anything happening until then… After the game was over, we headed home and as my mom opened the garage door, there were my friends and family waiting to say, “SURPRISE!” Indeed I was suprised.  My mom had pulled off an unbelievable birthday celebration for me and managed to keep both of my older brothers from spilling the beans!

The reason this story is so memorable is because this was the last time I remember my mother healthy… shortly after this, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and although she was a fighter, she gave up her battle on June 14, just 2 1/2 years after her diagnosis.  She was 41. She died 1 week before her 42nd birthday…

So you see, birthdays are not just special, they create lasting memories when there are no more birthdays to celebrate with loved ones gone before us…

Treasure each birthday and treasure each day… remember someone, somewhere is making a memorable birthday today.

This weekend, my 12-year old daughter and her friends are hosting a surprise birthday sleepover for one of their friends whose mother lost her very short battle with lung cancer this past July.  Each year, her Mom would have a huge sleepover birthday party for her  which all the girls looked forward to.  This will be the first birthday she will have without her Mom and it will probably be difficult for her and her Dad and brothers.

I am so touched by the extraordinary compassion and sensitivity displayed by my daughter and her friends.  While they are just 12 years old, they instinctively knew what to do for their friend.  So, Saturday evening, think about the 10 twelve year olds who understand the meaning of more birthdays!

Birthdays…for some it’s a special day to acknowledge another year of life and for others it’s just another day. For me, something always comes up on a birthday whether it be my own or that of someone I know…

In the summer of 2002 birthdays took on a whole new meaning. For 7 months I was sick on and off. I had suffered from fevers of 102, 103, and sometimes 104 degrees. I had drenching night sweats to the point that I would wet my clothes and the sheets of my bed. My lymph nodes were enlarged and in less than a couple of months I had shed a little over 20 pounds. These symptoms would come and go during the 7 months and when summer came I knew this all couldn’t be, “just another cold.”

In July, my mom who is a nurse had me stop by her clinic to see the doctor that she had worked for. There I told him my symptoms and he had examined me. When he was done he told me that I had Lymphoma. At 23 years old I had no clue what that meant. He had left the room to tell my mom the news. When she returned to the room it was clear she had been crying. I thought to myself, “Oh God, I am dying…” I asked my mom, “What is Lymphoma?”

On July 24, 2002 which is my dad’s birthday I was officially diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma Stage 3. From there I underwent chemotherapy for 6 months and my cancer went into remission. Four short months later while randomly scratching my neck I found a lump. The cancer had returned. For my 2nd battle with cancer my oncologist suggested that we do an Autologus Stem Cell Transplant. It’s a transplant procedure where they harvest your own stem cells and re-infuse them back into your body. It’s like taking apart an old car, getting rid of the bad parts and rebuilding it with new parts. So, since the cancer didn’t hit my bone marrow, I was able to be the donor and recipient of my own stem cells.

On June 21, 2003, my 23rd birthday I sat in a chair for several hours with an IV drip of various chemo drugs instead of behind a table with a birthday cake. For several weeks after that there was more preparation for the transplant. In August I was admitted to the hospital for more chemo and to complete the transplant process. I was scheduled to be there for 30 days straight.

On August 18th, my oncologist’s birthday; he re-infused me with my stem cells and I also had 5 blood transfusions that week. Weeks later, I was released from the hospital on August 31st, the day before my son’s 3rd birthday. Jacob was born on September 1st which was also my OBGYN’s birthday. I made her miss dinner with her family that day due to Jacob’s arrival which was actually 3 days late. I have been in remission since October of 2003!

As you can see birthdays are not just another day for me…even if it’s not my own. Prior to my transplant my friends and co-workers celebrated my several times in the month of June to make up for having chemo on my special day. Every day of life is precious! Celebrate the birthdays in your life because you never know what someone else is going through that day. This year is my 30th birthday and 6 year cancer free anniversary. It’s also the 25th anniversary of the American Cancer Society’s Relay For Life. So, how am I celebrating all these special events? I am attending 25+ Relay For Life events this summer from March through August. I’m a 2 time cancer survivor so what better way to live out the rest of my life than to… CELEBRATE, REMEMBER, FIGHT BACK!

For my 18th birthday, I was a senior in high school. I was at school for 15 hours that day because on top of school, it was Tech Week for our Winter Play. When school let out for the day, my friend and I hung out with our friends down in the Robotics Lab before grabbing a bite to eat for dinner and heading for rehearsal. Rehearsal went very well, and when it was over, the Stage Manager told my friend and I to organize the prop closet. Later, she came back and told us to sweep the stage. When I came onto the stage, the entire cast and crew was standing there, and started to sing Happy Birthday to me, and my other friend brought out the cake he made for me. I was completely surprised, and that made me so happy!

Life happens so fast it all seems like a blur. But every once in awhile we have a wonderful day, a memorable day, one that stands out in our minds and that we can look back on with fondness. And often, those days are our birthdays. We’ve got photos, or maybe even video, and most importantly, we’ve got that feeling memorized in our hearts. Birthdays are days to celebrate who we are, and who we love.

The first birthday I really remember is my 8th. My dad took the whole family to the circus that day, so I got to leave school early. I was so excited about that at school I cut a big circle out of purple construction paper, and put a big “8″ in the middle – then I wrote around the edges: “Today is my birthday and I am.” I tied a piece of red yarn through a hole-punch in the top and wore that sign around my neck all day!

On my 12th birthday my mother surprised me with my first slumber party. My parents had recently divorced, and I had started a new school with new friends. My mom invited my new friends and my old friends and it was a great way for me to feel connected with both of these circles. I think it was my 14th birthday that we had a joint party with my brother and sister and we each invited two kids. My mom took us to Farrell’s and we ordered “The Zoo.” The Zoo is this massive sundae in a huge bowl, with all kinds of ice cream and toppings and little plastic animals all over it. It takes two waiters to race around the restaurant with a blaring horn carrying this thing, and the whole place goes crazy when they see it! Now that’s a celebration!

On my 16th birthday I passed my driver’s test and got my license. On my 21st birthday I went with my boyfriend to Las Vegas.

And then I had kids, and I remember just about every single one of their birthdays. The first birthday, the Power Ranger birthday, the birthday where we had the critter guy come with a huge snake and all the kids had their pictures taken with it. Then there was the Halloween birthday with all the kids dressed up in costumes, and Dracula came and did magic tricks. My son Brian went through a rather long “Batman” stage so of course we had to have a Batman party.

I married my husband Greg in August, and he had his birthday on our honeymoon. We ate dinner on the beach. It was lovely and romantic, and the first time we celebrated his birthday together!

For my mother’s 60th birthday all she wanted was to get the whole family together – so we all took her out to dinner. She was so happy!

We need to understand that when we remember birthdays, we remember what we did, and who we were with. We don’t necessarily remember the presents. This shows us what is important to us. Let’s have more birthdays.

I can’t believe it has been over 7 years since I first heard that I have a tumor. I know it is crazy but I don’t look at my tumor as being as serious as my cousin’s tumor or my aunt’s tumor — because I survived they didn’t survive.  I guess I am still in total awe that this happened to me.  I was 28 years old and was about to get married to the most wonderful man in the world.

I had migraines that would not go away and finally had to have a CAT scan and one tumor the size of a golf ball was found on my pituitary gland and this doctor walks in and says, “oh, your the one with the tumor.”  Now mind you I just had an aunt that passed away a week before with brain cancer.  So this news was terrifying.  I accepted the news.  Then I went through test after test – like a person without a tumor would not believe – with my arms feeling like I was a pin cushion.  My head was still hurting and I was doped up and couldn’t see and life kinda sucked to be honest.

Thirteen days before the wedding I had the surgery to remove the tumor! Yeah, the doctor got in there and the tumor exploded so they scraped it instead of removing it.  (Must be all the hot air up there!)  They found out that it was benign and it had been building for about 5 years and would possibly come back later in life … oh how I can’t wait…

I was told that I could not have children.  I have 2 now , two handsome boys.  They are the light of my world.  I am now 35 years old and I do take medication to help me with my migraines as of now.  I have my regular checkups every year and have a wonderful set of doctors!

I have volunteered for the American Cancer Society for the past 5 years.  I have been the treasurer, helped with other things and luminary’s.  This year I am the online chair person and I believe I will love it!  Thanks for letting me have another 7 years of life!

Dr. Richard Rolston recently called the American Cancer Society to tell us about an inspiring celebration: His grandmother, cancer survivor Melvine Rolston, will be celebrating her 100th birthday today, June 25! Happy Birthday to Ms. Rolston! She has been cancer free for 60 years and is an inspiration to everyone whose life has been touched by this terrible disease. Here’s what Dr. Rolston had to say:

On June 25 of this year, my grandmother, Melvine Rolston, turns 100 years old. She was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a radical (very radical) mastectomy, and her prognosis was not great. Nonetheless, through her grit and determination, plus God’s hand, she has been a breast cancer survivor for 60 years now. On the eve of her 100th birthday, I feel this remarkable fact is something I want to share with you.

She truly has shown that the diagnosis of cancer does not mean a death sentence. Her health remains remarkable. Though blind, she feels her way around her home, still does all of her cooking and most of her cleaning. (Even today, I called her and she was in the middle of scrubbing her floors!) She is mostly deaf, but hears fairly well with the help of hearing aids. Her family and friends are gathering on June 28th in Big Horn, Wyoming, to celebrate this historic birthday with her. Thank you.

Many thanks to Dr. Rolston for sharing this powerful story. We wish Grandma Rolston a wonderful 100th birthday in the mountains, surrounded by family and friends. And here’s to many more! To find out how you can help create a world with less cancer and more birthdays, visit morebirthdays.com.

My name is Christine and I’m a breast cancer survivor. I live in Pottsville, Pennsylvania with my huband Mark, and I’m the mother of two beautiful grown daughters. This week I turn 61.

When I was younger, I had always assumed that I would live to see old age. My mother lived to be 88 and her mother lived to be 103. I had always kept up a healthy lifestyle, swimming during the week and walking on weekends. I was careful about what I ate and how much. There was no history of breast cancer in my family and I went in routinely for medical checkups.

So it came as a surprise when in October of 2005 I received a letter in the mail following my annual checkup. There was an abnormality in my mammogram that upon further investigation was found to be cancer. The small 1.5 cm lump in my breast had already metastasized to 14 lymph nodes in my body, according to the neatly folded form letter. Just like that I went from looking and feeling healthy to fighting for my life.

I’ve never been an emotional person. Most people get existential and cry; they call everyone they know. I just took all the information in and swallowed it. I had my husband for support, and my daughters nearby. I would survive, I told myself.

I was determined to live and I was determined not to let anyone know how scared I was. To keep myself from thinking, I kept busy, scheduling appointments, reading up on my condition. I talked to my husband about procedure, practicalities, order—anything to keep from thinking about how close I was to the edge.

By January I had completed the required evaluative lab tests and received the first of eight chemotherapy treatments. After that there would be 35 sessions of radiation over a period of seven weeks. I had it all calendared and counted the days. I would lose my strength, my hair and my energy, but I would not lose my life.

The miracle is that I did not and I have not.

I have been cancer-free since my treatment, and I no longer take this silvery stage of life for granted. This birthday will be a good one with both my daughters in town, and I already have plans for a 62nd. I’m grateful for every year that I have now, but I’m no longer scared. I’ll go when I’m ready and in the mean time I’ve got things to do. I’ve got places to go, and people to love, and maybe, someday, grandchildren to see. Happy birthday to me.

This week Asha Dornfest from parenting blog Parent Hacks writes about her dear friend Mike Wooldridge’s battle with cancer. Asha and Mike had led parallel lives until one day their paths diverged: at the age of 34 Mike was diagnosed with Stage 3 non-small cell lung cancer. After being told that his chance of survival was 10-15%, Mike conquered the disease and went on to run a marathon, climb Mt. Whitney, and above all cherish his time with his wife Linda and son Griffin.

Mike has fought to achieve more of something we all care about — time. His victory over cancer means more time with the people he loves and more time to celebrate the major milesones in their lives. And that’s what the American Cancer Society’s More Birthdays movement is all about. Read excerpts from the story below:

Breathing New Life: Mike Wooldridge’s Lung Cancer Triumph

Mike Wooldridge and I have always led parallel lives.

He and I were friends in middle- and high school. We went to college at UC Berkeley together, then onto the Web, then to book writing and teaching, and finally plunging into parenthood side-by-side. Our sons were born weeks apart — I still have the blurry picture of our two wrinkly newborns sleeping in their adjacent car seats.

And yet, throughout our almost 30-year friendship (which is saying a lot given that I’m 40), we’re as different as two people can be. In school, while I was hunched over my books, he was riding his skateboard. While I backpacked through Europe, he camped out at Burning Man. I wrote an early book about Web publishing, and he wrote a zine and printed weiner dog posters. I started a parenting blog, he started Pets in Uniform.

… But, at one crucial point, our paths diverged. While I was heads-down in the joyful and confusing details of family life, Mike was diagnosed with cancer.

What started as a minor cough ended in an oncologist’s office with the news that Mike had a fist-sized tumor growing in his right lung. He had Stage 3 non-small cell lung cancer, and, because the size of the tumor made it inoperable, his chance of survival was 10-15%. Mike was 34.

Against those sobering odds, Mike plunged headlong into his treatment. He learned everything he could about the disease, he relied on the support of his incredible wife, family, workplace and network of friends, and — most importantly — he kept his eye trained on his recovery. Doctors were flabbergasted when chemotherapy shrunk Mike’s tumor to an operable size. They removed the tumor and a significant portion of his lung. A year and a half after his diagnosis, Mike ran the Vancouver International Marathon.

Mike says that cancer has made possible a vitality and an immediacy that he never knew existed. Without cancer, he may have never had the motivation or courage — or even the inclination — to run a marathon, or climb Mt. Whitney, or hike to Machu Picchu. More importantly, the time he spends with his wife, Linda, and his son, Griffin, is a gift Mike never takes for granted.

Mike’s beaten cancer in that he’s alive today. But he might say it differently: he’s alive today because of cancer.

Thanks to Asha for sharing this touching story. To help create a world where cancer never steals another year of anyone’s life, visit morebirthdays.com.