I watched my father die of cancer when I was in my early 20s. He went through a bone marrow transplant -- twice. The first time he was sick and it was hard, but he was cancer free for a few months and managed to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. When the cancer came back, he had very little chance of surviving. He opted for full blown treatment, against everyone's recommendations (and my mother's wishes). His body was still weakened from the first transplant, and the cancer grew resistant. Those had been the worst 6 months of my life. In the end, they sent him home. He looked about 80 years old, with thin skin and a frail frame.

A few days later he passed in what I found to be the most humiliating and painful few days. After I watched him die, I promised myself I would never let my kids see me die that way -- petrified and feeble. I hadn't realized it then, but the child I made that promise for was barely one when I got my diagnosis. The odds were not in my favor, but I wanted nothing more than to give her a mother.

I decided to risk everything and be treated. I spent what could have been the last months of my life in a hospital, too sick to see her. As my oncologist told me -- I was losing one year to save the rest. Best risk of my life. She's almost eight and has a one year old brother. Life is good.

Good luck to you. The world is filled with miracles. Your attitude will be the most important thing your children remember. Keep loving them.