Of tantamount importance in the cancer lexicon is some acceptable name of a group of individuals who have been diagnosed with cancer. Far too frequently this nomenclature has been applied to, rather than derived of, this amazing group of folks.

After my fourth round of chemotherapy, I went into what I now refer to as "The Funk Zone." What helped me the most was my ability to put on my nurse's cap (being a nurse was definitely a Silver Lining during my treatment) and assign myself some healthy coping mechanisms.

While I continue to look for and always find silver linings in every day, I don't want to give the impression that, for one second, this is easy-breezy. Having cancer is really F-Bomb hard.

I think we're unified in coping, hoping and living in the present. I guess this is the new normal. And while it sucks to have cancer, we have each other, and that's never bad. In that we are always lucky.

Even though I have the label "terminally ill," I know my chances and my time is what I make it. Medical knowledge has been doubling every ten years and maybe, just maybe, I'll be here when my cure comes.

As I work to find my footing, work to find my balance, work to integrate my two feet, my two legs, my two worlds, my two selves, I am still fighting cancer.

Diseases and conditions that once proved quickly fatal no longer are. Instead, individuals and their families are increasingly likely to find themselves mired in a protracted process that only begins with a diagnosis.

The real gift was the power to harness humor as a weapon in my battle against cancer, to feel the power to laugh in the face of what scared me most.