Is there a more poignant question coming from the lips of a breast cancer survivor than this: "Am I cured?" After the slash, poison, and burn of treatment, the months of trying to keep to a normal schedule of working and cooking and mothering while you feel like you've been run over by a cement truck, the constant fear-is the treatment working?-you get to the end, and tentatively, diffidently ask your oncologist: Am I cured?

The answer to that $64,000 question is "Yes." Or "No." Or...