Everyone who is worried about breast cancer should read the December 13th issue of The New Yorker. It has two howling Santa Clauses on the cover and, inside, "The Picture Problem," an article by Malcolm Gladwell on bombings, breast cancer and the problem with relying on the truth supposedly revealed in "pictures."

Gladwell has written a book, to be published next month, called "Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking." We should all purchase a copy and write him a note to encourage him to keep writing about cancer.

Why? Because cancer seems to be evolving faster than we are, and our tools of discovery leave a lot to the imagination.

It is difficult to learn anything about cancer that one can count on as the "truth." Nearly every statement on the topic is couched in innuendo and caveats. And this article is no exception. The author goes forward toward a point, and then backs up, creates a circle of doubt, and envelopes it in "not always," and "not everyone agrees."

When I was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer, I began to realize how many of my friends had fought cancer. Because I had been given a "six-months-to-live" verdict, I wanted and needed people to know my situation right away so no time would be wasted on anything. At first, it was difficult to talk about, but I trained myself well, and soon it was simply my natural response to "How are you."

My directness seemed to open a door for others. Some were living with cancer, Others were struggling with the cancer of a loved one or friend. Some were simply terrified because it was likely they would have to deal with cancer at some point in the future.

At one point, I could honestly say that almost 80% of my friends were actively fighting breast cancer, or had fought it in the past. It was like a plague, so predictable that it hurt.

A very dear friend from France, Hap Paul, had survived cancer once, but it came back and killed him. He was a veterinarian and had many friends and colleagues who were doctors and scientists. Through Hap's network, I learned that some of the Cold War technology designed to shield us against weapons might be of use in mammography. Indeed, today, that Cold War technology may be hard at work in your local radiologist's office.

But here's the problem, and the point Gladwell makes over and over and over: The more information we have about tumors, the less we know.

Just as Colin Powell learned after his United Nations testimony, one might see a truck in a picture, but not be able to see what kind of truck it is.

Decision-making based on what one "sees" in pictures can be a life saver. It can also be a fool's folly.

As Gladwell notes in his New Yorker article, "Radiologists are, in this sense, a lot like baggage handlers at airports. The chances are that the dark mass in the middle of the suitcase isn't a bomb, because you've seen a thousand dark masses like it in suitcases before, and none of those were bombs—and, if you flagged every suitcase, no one would make a flight. But that doesn't mean, that it isn't a bomb."

From the article, our worst fears are confirmed. Seeing isn't really believing and, even when you can see something that looks like a tumor, chances are horrifyingly good that it isn't.

What does this mean about mastectomies, chemotherapy and radiation? It means that the more information you have, the more confused you will be. Just as cancer participants learn to appreciate 'negative positives,' you will greatly appreciate learning from a Canadian study that "clinical breast exams" with the fingertip may be just as reliable as mammography.

"There is nothing in either science or technology that has even come close to the sensitivity of the human finger...it is a brilliant instrument....but we simply don't trust our tactile sense as much as our visual senses," says Mark Goldstein, a sensory psychophysicist in the article.

You'll also learn about what the Danes are doing, what's new in X-ray analysis and why, no matter what innovation is applied, breast cancer continues to rise by the same, small, steady increment every year.

Please tell me about your experience with cancer. gcudaback@yahoo.com.