I've never been one keen to take pictures, especially of myself. I'm the one hiding my face from the camera. I don't know why, I've always been like that as far back as I can remember, always shy. The odd thing is, now I really envy camera-happy people. People who take a million pictures everyday. They have those images to look back and remember, more moments than I do.

I even bought a very nice digital camera a couple years back. I took it on a trip with me, and still didn't use it very much. Now I don't even know where it is. Maybe I'm just not used to taking pictures, it feels awkward holding the camera - do you pose or just point and shoot everything randomly? I don't know.

Right now I definitely don't like getting my picture taken. I mean, honestly, who would want to get their picture taken in a hospital bed with a ventilator and hospital gown on? And yet, I have family and friends, even nurses who want pictures taken. It kind of befuddles me.

I kind of "got" something though after watching Farrah Fawcett's documentary about her dealing with cancer. Such a private and personal hell, and yet, she let the camera (a video camera, no less) film the most intimate moments - like taking her hat off and showing how much hair she had lost. Seeing her do that, and knowing how beautiful her hair was, so much apart of her image as a celebrity, and so much apart of every person's (especially women) image of themselves.

The thing I "got" was that it's not about how we look, or how we feel. Pictures are not just images, they are sentences of a story, snippets of a life caught on paper. I know I don't look beauitful, I may not feel beautiful, even on my best days, but I want people to look back on my life and know I always had a smile to share. I was not moping or hanging my head in defeat. I never lost my hope, my laughter and wit. I never lost the essential "me."

I didn't know Farrah Fawcett as a celebrity. I had heard her name and that was all, but watching that documentary she became a person. One person, dealing with a cancer and paparazzi that tried to steal everything from her - including her dignity. Her film showed the truth through all the lies, that she always had hope, her dignity, her spirit.

I'm not comparing my life to Farrah's or anyone else battling cancer, I'm just saying that maybe it's a good thing to chronicle our "downs" as much as we do our "ups" in life.

Maybe next time someone wants a picture I'll just smile and flash an "I love you" hand sign.

Peace and hope!