By Andrea Kane
CNNHealth.com  Producer

September is National Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month. Each year in the U.S. about 21,500 women are told they have it; approximately 14,600 die of it. Detected early, it has a five-year survival rate of almost 94 percent, according to the National Cancer Institute. Unfortunately, only 15 percent of ovarian cancers are found when the disease is still localized.

A good friend of mine died of ovarian cancer six years ago. She was only 41. We weren’t talk-to-you-every-day best friends, but when we saw each other, we connected.

After I had a baby, we had less time to spend together. Still, she faithfully came out to visit the baby and me.

In 2000, shortly after my daughter turned 1 and my friend turned 39, her doctor found an ovarian cyst. Unfortunately, in the Russian roulette game of health and disease, she lost: Her cyst contained a malignant tumor – a one-in-a-hundred chance, she was told. The good news was that it was “only” stage 2 (In stage 1, the cancer is still contained in the ovary; stage 4 is considered terminal). But even stage 2 was not good enough.

Everyone agrees that ovarian cancer needs to be found earlier, but the question is how? Part of the problem is, the symptoms of ovarian cancer– bloating, increased abdominal size, changes in bladder and bowel function and a feeling of pelvic fullness or pain - can be also caused by a number of other maladies. And there is no accurate blood test.

For my friend, surgery was followed by chemotherapy, and more chemotherapy. Still, she found time to visit my daughter and me, and we found time to talk about motherhood, religion, relationships, life. Our parallel but sometimes intersecting lives went on.

At the end of 2001 I had a second daughter, and her cancer returned. I drove her to a couple of chemo appointments; she had more surgery and some radiation. We talked about dying, but only in the abstract – because neither one of us wanted to think it would happen to her.

But her worsening condition cracked our carefully constructed illusion. The drugs made her terribly sick — not that they were actually helping - and surgery was just a temporary fix. She knew her options were limited; she desperately looked to get into a trial for a new drug.

The last time she came to visit me, she told me that she recently had realized that this thing could actually kill her. But she still held some hope.

Then, before she could go into remission again, the complications started in earnest.

Her parents arrived from Florida to take care of her. The morphine made her sleep 20 hours a day. She stopped communicating with all but a very small group of friends; they gave the rest of us e-mail updates.

I desperately - and selfishly - wanted to see her, to talk to her one last time. And then I got my chance: My husband prepared some legal documents for her that required signatures. He asked her parents whether I could be the one to drop off the documents. They obliged.

I was nervous before seeing her; I didn’t know what to expect. On the appointed day, I headed over with my younger daughter.

Seeing her wasn’t exactly a shock, but she didn’t look like her old self: Her skin was yellow, her face looked gaunt and she sported a feeding tube. She didn’t smile – not even once. She and her mother both looked exhausted. I tried to be cheerful enough for the two of us.

After she signed the documents, we all sat on her back porch and chit-chatted about trivial matters: my daughter’s sandals, her nap schedule, my other daughter. Blah, blah, blah. We talked about everything except the pink elephant in the room. What I really wanted to ask was how she was doing emotionally: Was she afraid? Bitter? Angry? Or had she come to terms with dying? Was she at peace? I could not tell.

Impulsively, I asked her mother to take a photograph of us with a camera I saw sitting on the nearby table. Her mother snapped two photos and then my daughter and I left. The visit had lasted 15 minutes.

Maybe I couldn’t talk to her about the things that mattered most because her mother was there, or maybe because I didn’t want to upset her by openly acknowledging something she never had: She was dying. In any case, I will always feel that I missed my last chance to talk to her honestly and openly, to hold her close to me and whisper “Goodbye, I love you.”

Two weeks later Jennifer Lisa Bertoni died.

A while later I received an envelope in the mail: the two photos. As it turns out, they were the last ones taken of her. Surprisingly, in both of them, she gazes back at me, smiling.

Editor's Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By Ashley J. WennersHerron
CNN Medical News Intern

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and I usually spend September coming up with ways to bring attention to the fact that men also are at risk. While women are a hundred times more likely to develop breast cancer, the American Cancer Society estimates that nearly 440 men will die from breast cancer in the United States this year. The rarity of male breast cancer, combined with the societal stigma that breast cancer is a woman’s disease, often leads to a late diagnosis for men. This translates to a delay in treatment, which can be detrimental. Just ask my dad.

My father discovered what he thought was a mole a few days after his 36th birthday. He had it removed, but soon discovered another. After six weeks of visiting various dermatologists, my dad ended up in an oncologist’s office. The diagnosis was stage III breast cancer, meaning the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes. Since the spread was significant, he underwent chemotherapy. It was hard on him. The chemo compromised his immune system and he had to live in an isolated clean room for about a month, with minimal physical contact. He wasn’t allowed food prepared outside the hospital, which, combined with nausea caused by the chemotherapy, resulted in a drastic weight loss.

Now, doctors are considering administering chemotherapy to patients who may have only a very slight spread of cancer cells. In a study published by the New England Journal of Medicine, conducted in the Netherlands, it was found that even a few cancer cells floating to the lymph nodes increases the chance of cancer recurrence. Previously, doctors tended to ignore these “micro-tumors,” because they considered them too minuscule to be significant. The side effects of chemotherapy were considered too severe to be worth the benefit of clearing the rogue cancer cells. That’s changing now.

Chemotherapy may be a small price to pay if it means that a future recurrence is less likely. A late breast cancer diagnosis is typical for men. Micro-tumors and further spread of the cancer are more likely for men, but men have the same likelihood of recurrence as women.

I am happy to say that my father will celebrate his five-year remission mark this January. At one point during his treatment, I was told to prepare for the worst. Luckily, hoping for the best paid off. I still worry, though, and with good reason. Breast cancer must be discussed in terms of people, not just women. Diagnoses need to be made early and treatment should be effective in the long-term. My dad’s story ended on a happy note, but how many more men out there think they have only a mole? How many doctors aren’t even considering that their male patients might have breast cancer?

Do you know a man or are you a man who has experienced breast cancer?

Editor's Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By Marcy Heard
CNN Producer

Researching cancer statistics for CNN’s Medical Unit reminded me of my own father’s battle with the illness.  It was nearly two years ago when Dad was told he had esophageal cancer.  The diagnosis took the entire family by surprise – we had not heard of esophageal cancer and didn’t even know the symptoms of the disease.  We all knew Dad had not been feeling well, but he was still active and as cantankerous as ever.   Two questions arose during our conversations – How long would he live? and Could he be cured?

Marvin Beck and his daughter, Marcy Heard

The American Cancer Society estimates that 16,470 new cases of esophageal cancer are diagnosed each year.  14,280 people die from the disease and only 16 percent will survive the next five years.  African Americans are twice as likely as Caucasians to develop esophageal cancer and it is seen more frequently in men.  Symptoms of esophageal cancer include difficulty swallowing, weight loss, chest pain and fatigue.  What Dad had repeatedly dismissed as “getting older” and as “heartburn” was actually his body’s way of telling him something was very wrong.

For my father, esophageal cancer treatment meant that most of his esophagus would be removed along with the majority of his stomach.  The radiation and chemotherapy treatments left him weak and unable to live alone.  My brother and his wife cared for him in their own home after each cycle and kept the rest of the family updated on Dad’s progress.  From the very beginning both my brother and father wore yellow LIVESTRONG bracelets and remained positive at the possibility of survival.

The hope for a cure burst into joy in December 2006 with the news that Dad was cancer free.  But the happy news was short lived as Dad was hospitalized just after Christmas.  I remember the nurse cutting the yellow LIVESTRONG bracelet from his wrist as Dad asked if it was really necessary.  When told yes, he scowled and lay back on the pillow.  The news we received was not good; the cancer had returned. Dad’s race ended in the early hours of January 26, 2007 – six months to the day of his diagnosis.

My brother still has Dad’s bracelet and has never taken off the one he wore during Dad’s treatment.  To me, the now worn and faded band is a testimony of one life lost in the battle against cancer.  My father ran the race with great patience and faith; we can only continue to do the same each day while working towards a cure.

I made an online dedication for my father as part of the LIVESTRONG World Cancer Declaration.  Dad continues to be an inspiration to me, and I hope others take the time to sign the declaration as the race for a cure continues.

Editor’s Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By Caitlin Hagan
CNN Medical Associate Producer

Few things can make me as happy as a hot summer day at the beach. I'm a total sucker for sunshine but unfortunately, until recently, I had not been able to spend much time romping around in the sand. So when I packed my beach bag I made sure to bring not one, not two, but three bottles of sunscreen: plenty of protection to make sure my skin was sunkissed, not sunburned. Sounds like a great plan, right? Except all three had different SPFs, some but not all were broad spectrum, and one was just for my face. For a woman who wants to avoid a sunburn but maximize her vacation, things got a little confusing.

Apparently my dilemma is not that uncommon. Dr. Ariel Ostad is a dermatologist and assistant professor of dermatology at New York University who deals with this issue often. According to him, which SPF, or sun protection factor, you choose is not as important as what kind of radiation you're being protected from. SPF protects you from ultravoilet B, or UVB, radiation, the kind that causes sunburns. But when you are outside in the sun, your skin is also exposed to another type of damaging radiation. "Make sure your sunscreen contains an ingredient to block UVA radiation. 'Broad spectrum' is really the term that people should be looking for," advises Ostad. Since UVA rays are responsible for premature wrinkles and sun spots, it is best to keep your skin out of their reach.

But why isn't SPF the top priority? According to Ostad, the higher and higher SPFs for sale now are more about marketing than actual increased protection. It turns out that a sunscreen with a high SPF such as SPF 80 does not offer exponentially more protection, as most people think it does. According to the American Academy of Dermatology, there are diminishing returns the higher the SPF reaches. Sunscreen with SPF 30 lets in about 3 percent of the sun's harmful rays and a sunscreen with SPF 85 does not do much better, letting in more than one percent. "Anything above an SPF 30 makes absolutely no difference," says Ostad.

Keep in mind though, not all sunscreens are equal, even if they are broad spectrum. People worried about breaking out after slathering on sunscreen should opt for non-comedogenic products, which means that they won’t block pores. Sunscreens with an active ingredient of zinc oxide or titanium dioxide are good bets for people with sensitive skin who worry about too many chemicals in their products.

Now I know that the next time I head out for a day in the sun, there's no need for confusion (or three bottles).

How do you keep your skin protected?

Editor's Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By John Bonifield
CNN Medical Producer

In the spring of 2008, CNN reported the story of Mark Windsor, a cancer patient who was dying for lack of insurance. Windsor passed away Monday after a 26-year battle with chondrosarcoma, a rare bone cancer. He was 53 years old.

"After 16 major surgeries, radiation treatments and chemo treatments, the medical profession did not have the skill, or in too many cases, the desire to work with him further," said Windsor's brother, Allen Windsor, in a statement. "Mark believed, as he stated twice on CNN, money was the biggest factor in his untimely passing. Had he received the treatments he needed timely over the many years, his type of cancer could have been controlled for a longer time span."

In the months leading up to Windsor's death, he said in e-mails that he would have liked to live longer.

"I couldn't get benefits I needed at any price until it was too late," Windsor said. "Life could have been so beautiful."

Capturing the beauty of life was Windsor's initial hope. When Windsor was just 27, doctors removed a large, cancerous tumor from his neck. Windsor thought he was cured. A few years later, he had a wrenching choice to make: pursue his dream to become a photographer and leave a good job with company-paid health insurance, or stay and stay insured.

Windsor followed his passions. He never anticipated that the cancer would return. When it did, Windsor was uninsurable.

"I wish I would have seen all this coming. I just never figured I would be turned away from health care with tumors on my spinal cord, " Windsor said. "I think I served my country well during this short life."

Editor's Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By David Martin
CNN Medical Senior Producer

Twenty years ago, I went to Mercy Hospital in Wilkes-Barre, Pa., on a January night to cover the arraignment of Larry Cottam for the death of his 14-year-old son, Eric. The boy had starved to death. Arraignments are usually held in courthouses, but Cottam was too weak from malnutrition to leave the hospital. He sat in a wheelchair, an intravenous tube in his arm, his six-foot frame down to 139 pounds as he listened to the charges the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania was bringing against him. It was a strange scene.

His wife, Leona, was also charged in her son’s death. But that would come later. That night, doctors were too busy trying to save her life. She and their daughter, Laura, were elsewhere in Mercy Hospital, receiving treatment for severe malnutrition.

Larry Cottam was a former Seventh Day Adventist pastor and truck driver. He had been without work for months but didn’t believe in handouts for his reclusive family. He thought God would intercede on their behalf. The Cottams withered as they waited in vain at their two-story home on a dead end suburban street. Authorities said Eric ate his last meal 42 days before his death. The 5' 10" teenager’s body weighed 69 pounds.

I thought about the Cottams as I was reading a line in a statement to the media from Calvin P. Johnson, attorney for 13-year-old Daniel Hauser’s parents: “It is a violation of Spiritual Law to invade the consciousness of another without their consent.”

In Minnesota, where Danny was living before he and his mother fled, the state has a law requiring parents to provide necessary care to a child. Danny has Hodgkin’s lymphoma, but his parents do not think chemotherapy is the right treatment for the boy, Johnson said. In fact, Danny thinks chemo will kill him, according to the attorney.

At a hearing, Brown County District Judge John R. Rodenberg said the boy's "best interests" require that he receive medical care to combat his Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Chemotherapy has a 90 percent success rate with this cancer. Without chemotherapy, Danny’s doctor testified there’s a 95 percent chance the cancer will kill him.

Danny and his mother fled the state rather than comply with the court. They returned to Minnesota on Monday.

“This is a case of Love vs. Power. Love gives. Power takes,” Johnson wrote in his news release.

In the case of Larry and Leona Cottam, no one argued that couple didn’t love their children, nor did prosecutors question the sincerity of their religious convictions. But a jury convicted Larry and his wife, Leona, of third-degree murder just the same.

Last year, a Wisconsin girl named Madeline Neumann slipped into a coma and died after her parents chose prayer over medical treatment for the diabetic 11-year-old. The state charged her parents, Leilani and Dale Neumann, with reckless homicide. A jury convicted Leilani on Friday. Dale is scheduled to stand trial in July.

No one likes the notion of the state imposing its will over deeply held spiritual beliefs, but are there times when the government should dictate what care a child receives – no matter what the parents say?

Editor’s Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By John Bonifield
CNN Medical Producer

It’s Memorial Day Weekend—the unofficial start of summer! I’m hitting the beach and taking plenty of sunscreen with me.

Many of you will be spending hours in the sun in the months ahead. Sadly this year, more than a million of you will also learn that you have skin cancer.

We all know sun blocks can work to prevent burns and disease, but how do you pick the right one?

The American Academy of Dermatology recommends using a broad-spectrum sunscreen. When we talk about sun damage, we’re actually talking about damage to the skin that’s caused by ultraviolet light: UVB and UVA rays.

UVB rays lead to sunburns. When you buy sun block that provides SPF protection, you’re protecting yourself against UVB rays. SPF indicates the level of protection.

UVA rays penetrate deep into the middle layer of your skin. They can lead to wrinkles and age spots. They can also diminish your body’s ability to protect against cancer by weakening the immune system.

Both UVB and UVA rays can cause skin cancer, but not all sun blocks protect against UVA rays. For broad-spectrum protection, you want to buy one that does.

Now, a lot of people wonder about strength: SPF 85 sounds like a lot more protection than SPF 30 or SPF 15, but the difference between them actually starts to get pretty small.

For example, an SPF 15 sun block lets in about 6 percent of the sun’s UVB rays. An SPF 30 lets in only about 3 percentof those rays. An SPF 85 lets in a little more than 1 percent.

So, you’re going to get only slightly more protection with the higher SPFs, but that doesn’t mean you should let yourself bake in the sun longer. The recommended minimum is an SPF 15.

Whatever SPF you pick, be sure to slather on enough sunscreen—a shot glass-full is about right, the recommended one ounce. Reapply frequently, especially after swimming or if you've been sweating profusely.

On “House Call with Dr. Sanjay Gupta” this weekend, we’re kicking off a three-part series called “Saving Your Skin.” We’ll tell you more about picking the right sunscreen.

Also, let us know: what are your skin concerns this summer?

Editor's Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

As a new feature of CNNhealth.com, our team of expert doctors will answer readers’ questions. Here’s a question for Dr. Gupta.

Asked by Bill, Dawsonville, Georgia

“I am a pretty healthy 50-year-old guy, but I notice a lot of my friends and colleagues in the same age group are starting to get heart disease and prostate cancer. What is your advice for men wanting to stay a step ahead of potential health concerns?”

Answer:

Thanks for the question. I’m happy to hear you’re interested in health prevention during the prime years of your life. You might be surprised to know that many men don’t get regular health check-ups. It’s interesting when you think about it: Many men tend to focus on their outer appearance around age 50 - get new clothes, new haircut maybe. But when it comes to regular health screenings, they often skip them! The problem is, age 50 is when potential health issues develop.

All men (and women) should be getting annual physicals and screenings for cancer and heart disease. Heart disease is the No. 1 killer for men in the United States and it is often preventable. Keeping your weight down and your vital signs at a healthy level are two of the easiest things a person can do to reduce their risk. In addition to annual check-ups with your general physician, get your eyes examined at least once every two years.

If you’re like me, you might have trouble remembering when your last appointment was. But no excuses! One easy solution is to schedule your annual check-up for the week of your birthday. You’ll likely never forget.

One last piece of advice, don’t let fitness be the first thing to fall off your schedule. It always seems to, especially when life gets busy. But exercise is truly the single best thing a person can do for a long health life. It is not only good for your heart, your brain, and your body weight but also relieves stress. Some studies even show that people who work out are overall happier than those who don’t.

Bottom line: Investing time in your health now, will pay off years down the road. Best of luck, Bill!

By Jo Parker
CNN.com producer video/news

The outside of the envelope carried an urgent message: "You're a preliminary bone marrow match."

It'd been about 13 years since I'd joined the National Bone Marrow Registry (www.marrow.org). I'd given a few vials of my blood for testing and then eagerly waited to be called. For a while, I wondered each day whether that would be The Day that I'd get the chance to give my marrow to a stranger in need.

I wanted to do it for Crystal Bradshaw, a bright-eyed South Carolina toddler I met as a reporting intern back in 1985. The 3-year-old had leukemia, and I was assigned to write a story about her family's attempts to raise money for a bone-marrow transplant. As a reporter, I was supposed to maintain an objective distance, but Crystal and her parents and grandparents touched my heart. Before leaving the state for graduate school, I wrote about Crystal's plane trip to her transplant and a possible new life.

I threw myself into school and tried to forget about Crystal. But every so often, I would wonder: Did the transplant work? Is she cancer-free? Did her bouncing curls grow back as beautiful? But I deliberately did not find out what happened to her. I was afraid I would hear things I didn't want to hear.

In 1992, I signed up to become a bone marrow donor. As the technician took my blood, I thought of Crystal and once again wished her well in my heart. If I could just help someone like her, I thought, I would do anything.

As the months passed, the excitement of volunteering faded. I began to feel that my blood must be the most common out there. Why else wouldn't they call?

But each time I moved, I remembered to update my contact information. After all, they still had vials of my blood and might still make a match.

Months turned into years. I married and started a family. I gave birth to my own bright-eyed little girl and banked her cord blood on the off-chance she would one day need it for a lifesaving transplant. Three years after that, a baby boy completed our family. Teddy had his own health issues – allergies to eggs, milk, wheat and nuts – but I was thankful that I hadn't had to face a serious illness like leukemia.

When my youngest was 8 months old, the call came asking me to follow through on the promise I’d made, to consider helping someone in need.

All the donor coordinator could tell me was that I was a preliminary match for a 14-year-old girl with leukemia. Would I be willing to have additional testing to see if I matched in two additional ways?

"Absolutely," I said. "How could someone refuse?"

She said that people often change their minds. Their lives change and they are no longer willing. Some are no longer able because of disability or pregnancy. That’s why the patient isn’t told about a potential match until the donor passes all tests and agrees once again to donate.

I could barely contain my excitement as I had additional blood drawn. I’d already matched on four "markers," and they would be testing two more. I prayed they would match. I prayed for the 14-year-old stranger. And I prayed for Crystal.

The results of the tests were mixed. I matched on one marker, but not the other. The teenager would not get my marrow. I was crushed.

The donor coordinator told me that the additional testing will help things progress more quickly if I’m called again. She thanked me for being willing and said it was possible the girl would find another donor.

And so I settled in to wait for another call. Remembering Crystal’s curls, I bided my time by growing my hair long and donating 10 inches to Locks of Love, which makes free wigs for children who lose their hair after chemotherapy. Maybe it will help another little girl get over the loss of her bouncing curls.

Today Crystal Bradshaw would be in her 20s. Regardless of her fate, her life has had an impact. If I’m ever a final match for someone, that person will owe it all to Crystal.

Editor’s Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.

By Andrea Kane
CNNhealth.com Producer

I am sure that I am not the only one who is going to be glad to see 2008 in the rearview mirror, receding in the distance - what with all the financial turbulence, the foreclosures, the layoffs, the generally gloomy mood.

And for me, the economic downturn was mirrored by a downturn in my husband's health. Neither one is permanent (I hope!) but both served to cast a pall over the year. It started in May, with the quite sudden discovery of kidney cancer. From discovery to diagnosis to surgery to release from the hospital took a week and a day. My parents came down from New York City to help with the girls, neighbors and friends brought food, helped with daily stuff.

My husband recovered from his surgery (with an excellent prognosis) and gradually life returned to normal. In two months, he had returned to work part-time.

Part-time slipped to full time until... the end of September when he developed a tear in his retina after a jump from a climbing wall; by the following week, despite laser treatment, it had detached.

He had to have real cut-open-your-eye surgery (including stitches!) –the kind that required him to lie with is head at a 30-degree angle for 20 out of 24 hours. This lasted two weeks. Then, he was able to move around for two hours a day. This lasted another two weeks. And, just when we began to see the light at the end of the tunnel (so to speak), we got devastating news: he was among the 5% that developed proliferative vitreoretinopathy (PVR), a catastrophic complication to the surgery. Basically it means that his eye produced too much scar tissue, which stuck to the retina and then contracted, and redetached the retina all over again.

Another surgery to reattach. Another two weeks of immobility. Then a third surgery to replace the gas bubble in his eye with the stronger silicone oil in the hopes of keeping his retina as "flat as a pancake" against the eye's back wall.

Throughout this whole time, there were countless early morning doctor's appointments I had to drive him to and from (plus get myself ready for work, and get the girls to school in a timely manner), groceries to buy, kids to tend and a household to run. Friends, neighbors and family were kind and understanding, but because it happened on the heels of the other crisis, because it wasn't life-threatening and because I didn't expect it to drag on, I didn't get my support system in place.

I turned away general offers of help ("Oh, we're just fine, thanks!") until... a perfect stranger knocked on my door. Or, rather, rang up my cell. Until that moment, I hadn't realized how overwhelmed I felt.

The unknown neighbor heard about our situation  - through the ever-present neighborhood grapevine - and called: she wanted to bring me dinner and would Sunday be okay to drop it off?

I fought off tears. Her kindness touched my heart and made me realize how desperate I was for... what? Relief from the drudgery of every day household tasks like cooking? While the dinner, for food's sake, was certainly appreciate, it went so much deeper than that. While I had been trying to keep it all together, keep it all inside, here was someone who without even knowing me had extended - unasked, unbidden - a helping hand. And by reaching out, she had unleashed a gush of gratitude.

Studies out of Kent State University and University of California at Davis have shown that gratitude, or being thankful, can increase a person’s happiness levels. People who count their blessings are more satisfied with their lives overall, more optimistic about the future.

In 2009, I resolve that when someone has a baby, gets sick, or has some kind of difficulty, I will remember this lesson: Don't ask, just do. So strange that it took a stranger to remind me of the power of a random act of kindness, and the heart-warming pleasure of gratitude.

What are you grateful for? Tell us.

Editor’s Note: Medical news is a popular but sensitive subject rooted in science. We receive many comments on this blog each day; not all are posted. Our hope is that much will be learned from the sharing of useful information and personal experiences based on the medical and health topics of the blog. We encourage you to focus your comments on those medical and health topics and we appreciate your input. Thank you for your participation.