Tom Synder, host of NBC's The Tomorrow Show passed away on Sunday from leukemia. Synder told the world on his webpage in 2005 that he had been diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia.

The Tomorrow show aired in 1972 after The Tonight show with Johnny Carson. In 1995 he returned to late night TV starring in The Late Late show with Tom Synder.

His longtime producer and friend Mike Horowicz said "He was a great guy and very talented".

Am I a different person before and after cancer? Yes, most definitely. But what about the little things that come into our lives everyday? Did I chill out at all? I would have to say yes to that as well - ah, sometimes.

Do I need to clean the kitchen or should I go to the beach? I always like to have an immaculate kitchen so this is a tough one for me! I could call myself a neat freak except that I have messy drawers but everything on the surface has to look perfect.

So, my advice is -- Go to the beach!

I do have an easier time post breast cancer, saying to myself - ah, do it tomorrow, whats the big deal, its such a nice day.

Cancer has taught me that its ok to be messy sometimes, who cares! That is one of the many changes I have seen in my life.

I ask myself -- Am I smelling the roses? --as the old saying goes. I think I am. I really am.

The one constant thing that gives people fighting cancer hope is the continued support of friends and family. Phone calls, emails, a surprise or planned visit at the door that has a big hug on the other side, a held hand over coffee or tea, or sitting patiently by their side as they go in for treatments. When that support falls by the wayside, it makes the determination to fight this disease or any other less worth the effort. In my humble opinion as someone fighting cancer, we sometimes fight harder to overcome disease for others more than ourselves. Because it is in their caring and the will in their eyes that gives us a much brighter hope than we find in ourselves. It is the lack of support or caring that sets off an internal depression that makes it ten times harder to find the will to fight. People seem to find it easier to hug a tree than a human. Try to imagine if you will sitting in a house alone and thinking about a disease that can run rampant through your body. It is hard to imagine and something that we do not want to think about. Yet many many people face that struggle every day of their lives.

So if you haven't reached out to someone you know, a neighbor, a friend, someone in your church or where you work, or even a family member that is struggling with cancer or any other disease, then find it in your heart to do so. It will make a difference. And if you have reached out to someone once or even twice, know that once is not enough and twice is not enough. No matter how much you think you are being a nuisance, that constant reminder of love and support is 95 percent of your friend's battle. The old saying "You never know who your true friends are until you go through a crisis and see who stands by our side" is very very true. So go stand by someone's side today, tomorrow, and for many days to come to offer support and encourage strength until their fight is successful. Even a phone call goes a long long way.

For those of you who stay in touch with me by phone and emails and that come knocking on my door in this time of need, I thank you very much for giving me the strength and will to survive.

I guess the concept is happy -- the public urging for our world's policy makers to make cancer a top priority -- but the fact that becomes all too apparent on this World Cancer Day is quite sobering. More than seven million people die from cancer and close to 11 million new cases are diagnosed worldwide each year. In 2006, cancer killed more people than AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis combined.

So today is both happy and sad. But for now, let's focus on the happy.

The Geneva-based International Union Against Cancer (UICC) and member organizations in 86 countries are launching a five-year campaign to impart life lessons to children so they can prevent cancer later in life. Parents are critical in this campaign and must take an active role in teaching their children techniques for saving their lives.

Forty-three percent of cancer cases can be prevented through healthy lifestyles that begin in childhood. The World Cancer Campaign slogan -- Today's Children, Tomorrow's World -- underscores the possibility that a concerted effort among world leaders, parents, and their children can make a real difference through four key actions -- providing a smoke-free environment for children; ensuring children keep physically active, eat a healthy diet, and avoid obesity; educating children about vaccines for virus-related liver and cervical cancers; and limiting children's exposure to the sun.

Former First Lady Barbara Bush, Her Royal Highness Lalla Slama of Morocco, Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo, and tennis star Steffi Graf are some of the powerful voices powering this campaign that UICC president Dr. Franco Cavalli says can save so many lives if embraced by those at the highest decision-making levels.

"Complacency and inaction on the part of world community will effectively contribute to more than 10 million deaths every year by 2020," he said.

On Saturday, my three-year-old threw a tantrum like never before. His daddy was departing for a football game, and he was not happy. He wanted him to stay home. He wanted to go with him. He just wanted him.

Danny clung to my husband with every ounce of energy he could muster, and his full-force fit came just as I peeled his strong little fingers off my husband's hand, allowing him to escape through the garage door. Danny tried to escape too so I locked and chained the door. He responded by hitting, banging, and beating the door and screaming with all his might. No amount of reasoning could penetrate this all-out display of emotion, so I carried Danny like a sack of kicking potatoes into his room where I plopped him into his bed. I told him he could come out of his room when he was ready to be nice, when he could say something other than, "Mommy, you are not my best friend anymore." It didn't take long for Danny to calm down. But he didn't come out of the room. He fell asleep. And then my house was quiet.

Enter my five-year-old who decided he wanted to watch TV while his brother napped. TV watching would have guaranteed me some down time, but I don't really prefer this mindless activity. Just as I was trying to think of something productive Joey and I could do together -- coloring, painting, reading -- Joey announced, "Let's put up our Christmas tree!" Now? In early November? Almost six weeks before we will actually celebrate this festive occasion? This request was not really consistent with my holiday planning schedule and my initial thought was to squash the idea -- because it didn't fit into my grand plan of putting up the tree just a few weeks before Christmas.

Planning is one of my strengths. And one of my weaknesses. Sometimes it's good. Sometimes it's too stifling, too rigid. So in the spirit of the my new after-cancer-worldview, characterized by the guiding principle of tomorrow is never a guarantee, I considered Joey's enthusiasm for holiday decorating and realized his plan would just give us more time to really enjoy the season that always makes me happy. So I told Joey, "Yes, we can put up our Christmas tree."

After a trip to the attic where I wrestled with all sorts of junk and managed to gather all the necessary Christmas parts, Joey and I spent hours perfecting our tree. And when Danny woke up, he joined us and happily placed ornament after ornament on the same exact tree branch. And when we were done, we admired our sparkling tree in all its glory. On a warm, sunny day in Florida. On November 11.

Tis the season.

Kids can be so positive and encouraging, even in the face of sickness. Now today my kids have just a simple sickness -- nothing life-threatening -- that I'm sure will pass in a day or so. They are throwing up every content of their little tummies -- even sips of water -- and they are pale and lethargic and run-down. But still, they have hope for a brighter tomorrow. This morning, five-year-old Joey said to me while resting in my bed and just after he threw up , "this is just the good getting rid of the bad." He went on to explain how the good in our bodies knows when to push the bad out. And this is what is happening to him today, he said. He is throwing up the bad so the good can take over. Simple. Easy. Makes sense.

I never saw my own sickness like this. Instead of visualizing chemotherapy as a good agent that kills bad cells, I was repulsed by the horrific liquids that poisoned my body. I knew of people who were able to turn chemotherapy into a Pac-Man game -- with Pac Man chomping away at the cancer cells and leaving nothing but healthy cells to thrive. And I knew people who were relieved to feel sick because it meant the chemotherapy was working. I never saw it like this -- although I do know that chemotherapy may have saved me from a life with cancer. I was discouraged by chemotherapy. I had a negative attitude about it, and I had to really gear up for all of my infusions. I still -- more than one year later -- cannot eat anything I ate on my chemo days. The mere thought of these foods makes me feel ill.

A pediatrician friend of mine told me that kids with cancer tend to be positive. There are a few old souls, she said, but for the most part, they continue to tackle life with spirit and adventure and simplicity. Like my boys today who are peacefully napping at the moment so everything good in their bodies can come back with a vengeance.

My brother-in-law came up to me tonight with his iPod and handed me his headsets. A cue to put them on, I guessed -- and so I did. A song played and right away I liked what I heard. It was the exact type of music I like -- with a grungy, rock kind of sound. I figured Jack knows what I like and was sharing a new song with me. Which he was -- but there was something more to it. It wasn't just a good song -- it was a good song about cancer, with a message of hope and strength and living through the struggles of a life that has been shaken. Written by Scott Leger of the Austin-based band wideawake, Maybe Tonight, Maybe Tomorrow is dedicated to the millions of people affected by cancer -- those who have lost, those who have survived, those who fight and volunteer and support and research and raise awareness and give and inspire. And for those without cancer too really. For anyone who is faced with forces that threaten the most precious of assets -- time.