Courtesy of Jayne, I discovered a neat “blogland” event:

Can I Be Pretty in Pink: Garden Tour Event

The tour is being sponsored by Deena!

Participants were asked to post photographs of their garden along with a link back to the site — all visitors to the main site had the option of clicking to fund free mammograms (just like the option I give you on the sidebar on this blog!).

Now, I’m not a gardener, by any means, but I do love my flowers. Most of them are drenched wet with last night’s rain.

But my marigold’s however, are fighters, and have proven to persevere despite the worst weather conditions. Here they are, for you to enjoy as part of this tour, pink ribbon adornment and all.I only wish they came in pink!

(Image: Karen Lynch)

Post from: Blisstree

Can I Be Pretty in Pink: Garden Tour Event

What was the greatest lesson having breast cancer taught you?

I’ve learned to really pay attention: to my body, my stress level, my relationships, and my priorities. My inner voice is smarter than the rest of me!

What advice would you give to someone recently diagnosed, heading into treatment or moving on after?

Do whatever it is that you need to do to feel at peace with your decisions. However you get there (prayer, research, a second opinion, all of the above, none of the above … ), don’t waste energy second-guessing your decisions after the fact. You did your best.

Remember Jayne wrote about her pre-cancer poetry writing? Well, this poem of Jayne’s originally appeared in Byline and she’s sharing it with us here at The Pink Ribbon Review today. (I hope you get back into this particular love of yours, Jayne — maybe this will be the catalyst!)

On Winding a Poem

The poem leaps
to become the circle
of a serious child,
a yo-yo winder of seven
who has learned through practice

that the magic resides
not in the dazzling trick,
but in the winding:
a succession of concentric circles
that progresses toward smaller
and tighter,
until it is real and close
and can be held in a small palm.

Post from: Blisstree

Survivor Q&A: Jayne Byrne

Her story is inspiring, to say the least. Grab your mug of coffee, read on and enjoy. This is Jayne’s story:

“I was diagnosed with Stage 1 invasive lobular breast cancer in March 2006. At the time, I was forty-one years old. I found a lump in my right breast while I was getting dressed. Even though I called my doctor right away, I wasn’t actually worried at first. I was young, healthy, and much too busy for breast cancer.

My children were in ninth grade, sixth grade, and preschool. We had recently moved to North Carolina. The kids were settled in their new schools, the boxes were unpacked, and we were looking forward to some calm after a whirlwind move. Does life ever stay calm for very long?

It took me fourteen months to complete my treatment and reconstruction. Many women have a shorter course of treatment, but I had some complications that prolonged the ordeal. I had a lumpectomy with a sentinel node biopsy right away. Then there were four rounds of chemotherapy. While I was getting through my chemotherapy treatments, I did a lot of research about my tumor’s pathology and my particular situation. I ended up scheduling a bilateral mastectomy. It was a difficult decision, but I felt at peace with it.

Right before my scheduled surgery date, I lost a lot of blood. It was a freak event that was only peripherally related to the cancer, but the timing was quite bad. It landed me in the hospital, and forced me to delay my mastectomy. Those three days in the hospital were the worst part of my whole ordeal. I was bald, scared, and weak. I kept pleading, “What about my surgery? Will I be able to have my surgery?” The answer turned out to be “No.” I had to delay it in order to give my blood counts time to recover. Because of additional scheduling complications, I then had to wait six more months to begin the reconstruction process. In between the mastectomy and the reconstruction, I had my ovaries removed. All in all, I had anesthesia seven times in fourteen months.

It was a difficult time in my life, but I tried to stay focused on making decisions and moving forward. Sometimes, I felt that the decision-making process was a burden just beyond my strength. I kept promising myself that I’d make the best decisions that I could at the time – and that I’d never look back. So far, I’ve been able to keep that promise.

My creativity has always been an important aspect of my life. As soon as I was diagnosed with cancer, I turned to writing to help me process the experience. I wrote in my journal, I started a blog, and I crafted some essays. One of my essays was chosen for Voices of Breast Cancer. There was one oddity, though. Prior to cancer, I was devoted to reading and writing poetry. Writing poetry can be so cathartic, and yet I have been solidly resistant to that muse for some time now. I’ve realized (stubbornly, perhaps) that I don’t want cancer to infiltrate my poetry. Maybe, just maybe, I am finally ready to return to poetry. Why? Because I think that I can now attempt a poem that has nothing to do with cancer.

Writing certainly isn’t easy — but it does fall within my comfort zone. Getting out of that comfort zone to work on other types of breast cancer projects has been incredibly rewarding. I danced in a friend’s movie, and I created fabric squares for the Pink Artist Doll. These days, I’m much more inclined to leave my comfort zones. Venturing beyond them makes me feel more alive.

I continue to evaluate my life and my priorities. I know what my dreams and ambitions are. My biggest challenge now is balancing my desire to live-in-the-moment with the reality that reaching my goals will require a long time and a lot of hard work. Am I spending my time wisely? Am I enjoying the journey? I often ask myself these two questions.

While I will never call my breast cancer diagnosis a blessing, I readily admit that some wonderful things have happened to me over the last two years. The breast cancer community is an amazing entity, and I’ve crossed paths with so many talented and fun people because of my cancer experience.

I have also crossed paths with people as a result of my new ‘after cancer life’ that I feel truly blessed to know. You, Jayne, are among those people.

Thank you for sharing your story with us all.

I love this line, by the way, “Getting out of that comfort zone to work on other types of breast cancer projects has been incredibly rewarding.” Has anyone else out there stepped out of their comfort zone with a really great project?

(Image: Jayne Byrne)

Post from: Blisstree

Breast Cancer Survivor Story: Jayne Byrne