From Rachel, To all my fans and well-wishers: I decided that the time had come to introduce myself and to thank you all for being so caring and supportive. The flood of good wishes has been so heart-warming. I just read through Lenny's last update, and I must say that the picture it paints sounds petty awful. The fact is, thank God, that throughout most of my ordeal I have felt good, managed to get to the pool and swim my laps, sit in my coffee shop and do my writing, and wander around town spending money. Lenny has taken up swimming too, and it's funny - I do my 50 laps easily, while Lenny huffs and puffs through his 20 (but that's okay, we're getting him into shape!)

I don't know whether Lenny has mentioned the important role that God has played in my cancer. It's a very long story, but there's one incident that I wanted to share with everyone. On the day I had the CT and then went into shock, I had been very weepy while sitting in the waiting room. Nothing specific, but feeling very emotional. The CAT Scan is such a black and white test - I can swim and walk and dance, but the scan reflects what's really happening inside. As I walked into the room, I turned to Lenny, crying, to tell him that I knew I wasn't going in alone. I knew, with absolute certainty, that God was going in with me. I never had this feeling before any other medical procedure. I've always had the vision that all my little crises are leading down a path that ends with an abyss. I hoped I wouldn't have to walk all the way to the edge, and that I'd be able to scuttle back in the middle. Each successive crisis showed that this was not the plan. But I always believed that if I came to the edge, and either jumped or got pushed off, that God would be there with a big net to catch me. And He was there, because we had "walked" in together.

Before my cancer God played a very small part in my life. I feel like it's so typical - people remember God only when they get sick or face a crisis. But this is a very natural response. Imagine a child being carried around by his mother. She's holding him facing outward, and he is so interested in everything around him that he's barely conscious that he's being held at all. Suddenly the path dips and the mother slides and loses her balance. The child's stability shaken, what's his natural reaction? He turns around and clings on tighter.

You know those inflatable figures that are like punching bags? They help kids get out their aggression. You punch it down, and then it comes up again. This is kind of how I've felt the last few months. I get knocked down, and then pop back up again to enjoy the time before the next blow hits.

As those of you who have followed my story know, Lenny is incredible. Your wishes and prayers have been a source of strength and support for both of us. Thank you all.

Finally out of the closet,

Rachel