There is nothing unusual about a non-profit organization publishing a calendar. There is something very unique about this one. Life is a Carnival is a bold approach to mastectomy and reconstruction education.

This 2008 calendar features photos from FORCE: Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered members who have undergone bilateral mastectomy -- with or without reconstruction. To retain the anonymity of the models, they are wearing mardi gras masks.

This project is meant to celebrate life after mastectomy, to showcase many types of reconstruction and non reconstruction options in a nonthreatening and positive light. The calendar contains information about the models surgery with references included to the chapters in the Breast Reconstruction Guidebook which explains each procedure. A secondary goal of this calendar is to raise needed funds for FORCE programs.

I had a lumpectomy. It all turned of fine. I have two scars -- one underneath my armpit, one across the side of my left breast -- and while they are sometimes obvious if I wear a sleeveless shirt, they don't really bother me so much.

Some women -- about one-third to be exact -- are bothered by their lumpectomy results. Even though lumpectomy is intended to conserve the breast, these women say they are so unhappy about how their breasts look, they would consider reconstruction surgery.

According to a study presented at the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS) Plastic Surgery 2006 conference in San Francisco, 28 percent of breast cancer patients stated they were dissatisfied with the cosmetic outcome of surgery. Of these, 46 percent believed their physical appearance was worse or much worse after surgery. Interestingly, 26 percent of these unsatisfied patients still said surgery gave them an improved sense of body image. Plastic surgeons believe this disparity stems from the relief of having had cancer removed from their bodies, leading them to feel better even though they were not happy with how their breasts looked.

There is no way to feel the pain of a cancer experience without having personally endured it. No doctor or nurse or researcher or scientist -- all who know the disease so well -- can adequately prepare anyone for the physical and emotional turmoil that descends upon every man, woman, and child diagnosed with this life-threatening disease. It takes the person walking in cancer shoes to paint an honest picture of life with cancer.

A comment was left on my personal breast cancer blog the other day. Although I do not know the woman who wrote to me -- or her name -- I do know what she is encountering as she begins her own walk with cancer. And here are her words -- and her sadly accurate portrayal of what it's really like to walk in cancer shoes.

I am new to the breast cancer adventure. I am 37 and was diagnosed on 10/2 and had a mastectomy on my left breast 11/13 -- my 7 year wedding anniversary. It is a roller coaster ride I am going through as you have already traveled. I am terrified!

Will the roller coaster of emotions ever slow down? I feel as though I am not able to find the positive in any of this as I read in so many stories but am dwelling on the negative. I miss my old life even though it was crazy and chaotic, but am slowly realizing it will never be the same again.

I do not know what treatment I will have until the 13th of December which is next week but seems like forever. I am working through the reconstruction and expansion portion right now which is an adventure in its own pain. I am an emotional wreck and my wonderful loving husband is taking the grunt of it all as well as my two beautiful kids -- my five-year-old little girl and two-year-old son.

Like you said my five-year-old just knows mommy is going to the doctor a lot and has a boo-boo but my 2-year-old is clueless which is nice. I just want my husband and kids to have their mom around for all the wonderful things that have yet to come but I don't want to be in this hole that I sometimes feel like I am in. Some days are great but some really, really stink.

Well, sorry to vent on you but the other thing is you feel so alone in this even though I have wonderful friends and a great husband. I don't always want to be the downer of the conversation.

Just wanted to share and let you know that your stories and blog are very helpful. Take care and my prayers are with you and your friends and families.

It's amazing how modern medicine can repair the damage done by breast cancer, how it can reconstruct breasts removed in an attempt to ward off future cancer attacks, how it can inspire one woman to shed light on this major life transformation.

Debbie was diagnosed with breast cancer in June 2004. She had a double mastectomy and then treatment -- and then reconstruction. At the time, no pictures existed depicting the process, no images to prepare Debbie for the path she would travel.

Debbie traveled her path, survived it all, and now shares her journey -- through both words and images -- through a project she calls Myself: Together Again. Her project, intended to empower other women through the breast reconstruction process, is available online where booklets can also be ordered. A slideshow featuring images and audio of Debbie's journey is currently available on the MSNBC website.

While Debbie's story plots the landmark steps in reconstruction, each woman is unique -- and her medical team knows her situation best. Reconstruction options and results will vary for each person. This is just one woman's story.

Just when cancer seems to squash all that is good in the world with its darkness and death, little rays of sunshine and little slices of hope somehow break through the devastation, leaving the world a little bit brighter.

Archive of a Breast Cancer Survivor -- a newly released book by breast cancer survivor Adriene Hughes -- is an account of one woman's triumph over a disease that changed her world. It is full of sunshine and hope, despite its emphasis on a disease that every year stops 200,000 women in their tracks, spiraling them in directions so foreign they are downright frightening.

Hughes uses journaling and photography to tell her story of diagnosis, surgery, reconstruction, chemotherapy, and survival. And while those affected by breast cancer will find this book truly empowering, anyone affected by any cancer will gain a healthy dose of inspiration from this poetic compilation of thoughts and images.

Hughes does not seek fame and fortune by publishing her work. All proceeds from the sale of her book will go to the American Cancer Society. She will receive no financial reward from her endeavor. What she will receive is the personal satisfaction that flows from helping others. For Hughes, this is all that really matters.

University of Pittsburgh researchers are studying the potential use of stem cells, that come from the fat in our own bodies, for breast cancer reconstruction. Breast cancer survivors may one day be able to avoid the prospect of invasive breast surgeries. This approach uses the stem cells to regenerate tissue to develop into different specialized cell types.

When the fat-derived stem cells are injected under the skin in a rat model, the cellular combination eventually formed what the researchers describe as a mound of tissue. Dr. J. Peter Rubin, M.D., assistant professor of plastic and reconstructive surgery at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine, said "The surgical options for breast reconstruction involve either the use of implants or a procedure whereby fat tissue is taken from another part of the body is shaped into the form of a breast. Neither is ideal nor without risk. The use of adipose or fat derived stem cells may represent a better solution for soft tissue reconstruction in breast cancer patients".

Dr. Rubin has been given a three year grant from the National Cancer Institute to further explore this unique approach.

Photographs tell powerful stories. They depict people and objects and landscapes and emotions in deep, meaningful ways. They capture permanent visual representations of moments in life. They paint pictures that even the most well-crafted words could not reproduce.

When Mary Ann Nilan was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2004 at the age of 40, she knew her story must be told -- through pictures. So she asked a photographer to record it all, stating, "I hope the pictures make the road easier for other women." The rest is history.

She calls it a photo essay and titles it The Diary of Healing. For 17 frames -- with photographs dominating each space and text kept to a minimum -- Nilan shares her journey that began with the discovery of breast cancer in both breasts and several lymph nodes, the journey that took her through chemotherapy, a double mastectomy, and reconstruction with implants.

Her photographs document significant stops on her physical and emotional trek. They show her bald head, the wig she wore only once and then let hang on a hook, the scars that crossed her flat chest after surgery, an injection of saline that painfully pierced the skin of her new breasts, her children measuring her hair as it grows in after chemotherapy. The photographs are both hopeful and chilling. They are breast cancer. They are more than words could ever capture.

Since 1988, Wendy Chioji has been a reporter and anchorwoman for WESH 2 News in Orlando, Florida. She has covered news ranging from the pope's visit to Cuba in 1998 to the Olympic Winter Games in Salt Lake City in 2002. She continuously covered last year's hurricanes, and she has an Emmy award under her belt for a special news report on heroin use.

Wendy is a top notch athlete. She has run five marathons and competed in several triathlons and half-ironman races. She has ridden in parts of several stages of the Tour de France, and traveled across the country with Lance Armstrong in 2003 -- covering 550 miles -- with the Tour of Hope event to raise awareness for cancer research. Wendy has also made a tour with stage II breast cancer. Since 2001, she has been surviving this disease.

In July 2005, Amy Wilson was diagnosed with breast cancer. In the months that followed, Amy endured a lumpectomy, a mastectomy, reconstruction, and chemotherapy. In January 2006, Amy's treatment ended. And she set off on a journey of survivorship.

In August 2006, Amy found out her cancer had spread to her brain and lungs. Her doctors gave her two to 12 months to live. On Thursday, October 5, 2006, Amy died. She was 35 years old.

Amy became my friend shortly after her original diagnosis and eight months after my own breast cancer diagnosis. A mutual friend brought us together and for a little more than one year, we shared a rich connection, cemented in shared struggles and victories. Through phone conversations and e-mail exchanges and cards and gifts sent through the mail, Amy and I shared a special friendship. But I never looked Amy in the eye, never offered her a hug, never met her husband and children. I knew her only from a distance. Still, our partnership was powerful. It was comforting. And sadly, it is over.

Our same mutual friend called me Friday morning to tell me Amy had passed away -- a mere 15 months after her battle began, three months shy of the end-of-treatment anniversary she happily anticipated, five years from the age of 40 -- the age she had determined would mark her first true survivor milestone.

I miss Amy. I miss the pieces of hope that vanished with her death. I miss that I never met her, never hugged her, never said goodbye.

Amy, whose journey was chronicled in her local Ohio newspaper, is survived by her husband, her two children -- Luke, age five and Ella, age two -- and among others, her mother, who is currently fighting her own breast cancer battle.

Adriene Hughes was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after her 44th year of living. She found her lump after participating in a 5K walk, which for some reason, caused her breast to swell. The swelling led her to the lump -- and that's how she discovered her cancer. Adriene lives in Southern California, works as a media specialist, and spends her time taking photographs, knitting, and baking cookies and breads.

I have never met Adriene, have never spoken with Adriene. But we have communicated through our on-line journals and through e-mail ever since November 2004 -- when we each received a breast cancer diagnosis that changed the course of our lives forever.

Adriene is a gem, a treasure, a true inspiration. And here are her words.

I know how it feels to have breast cancer. I do not know how it feels to live without a breast for almost two years. My friend Larissa, who was diagnosed with breast cancer in her early thirties, shared her journey with me and talked about what it was like not to have immediate reconstruction after her diagnoses and what led her to that decision.

Larissa started out thinking she had ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS). A mastectomy was decided since the DCIS was widespread throughout the breast. She then met with a plastic surgeon and planned to have immediate reconstruction with an expander. At this point Larissa choose to get a second opinion. The second opinion didn't agree with the first one like she wished.

The appointment at the second opinion was very frightening to Larissa for a few reasons. First, the hospital had just purchased a new high-tech ultrasound machine. Larissa was the lucky one who got to try it out first! Second, what they discovered was that the cancer looked like it had become invasive, breaking out of the milk ducts and also spreading to the lymph nodes. Larissa said she "freaked out".

She knew this would mean chemotherapy and radiation and possibly a lot worse. So she made up her mind to delay reconstruction. Larissa didn't want anything else to go wrong. She said "I want to start fighting".

Internationally-known celebrity tattoo artist Mario Barth of Starlight Tattoo has announced a $1 million dollar challenge to local businesses and people in the northern New Jersey community to help raise money to benefit the CureSearch National Childhood Cancer Foundation for childhood cancers.

The Starlight Tattoo website has published statistics that in the last 20 years, the incidence of childhood cancer has grown nearly 27 percent, and scientists and researchers have been unable to account for the increase, or even why cancer in children occur. Barth, who is a father, says "Children are our future. We need to take care of them and nurture them, and show every child of every means that people really do care. Childhood should be a time of learning and fun, not pain and struggle. Every little bit helps."

Barth is a tattoo artist to celebrities including Lenny Kravitz, Jason Kid, members of the Wu Tang Clan, Nikki Six of Motley Crue, members of My Chemical Romance, members of Il Nino, radio host Wendy Williams, comedian Rich Voss and NFL Giants players Jermaine Taylor, Kendrick Allen and David Diehl.

The winner of over 200 international awards for innovative trends, Barth is a consultant and practitioner for Hackensack Cosmetic Surgeons for reconstructive micro pigmentation on cancer patients. He invented and created a series of special inks for use in reconstructive surgery to help patients adjust with a more natural dermal appearance after major operations. To learn more about Barth and Starlight Tattoo, and how to donate to a worthy cause in fighting childhood cancers, visit the Starlight Tattoo website.

As if the horrors of breast cancer are not enough -- surgery and recovery, chemotherapy and recovery, radiation and recovery, additional treatments and recovery -- weight gain often comes along and rounds out the full breast cancer package. It is most common for women who have chemotherapy -- the curse is not often seen for women who have surgery alone or surgery followed by radiation -- and while it may seem the lesser of all evils for some women, others may be plagued by an additional battle with weight. In addition to the self esteem blow that breast cancer delivers -- complete with scars and removal of breasts and reconstruction and hair loss -- weight gain in this body-image obsessed era can take its toll. There are also health concerns related to weight gain -- and an excess of weight is reported to sometimes influence a return of breast cancer and can be a risk factor for other cancers too.

The American Cancer Society reports that the average weight gain is five to eight pounds over a year's time -- but that gaining 25 pounds is not uncommon either. This phenomenon is somewhat of a mystery, although there are some theories about why women are at risk for this not-so-pleasant side effect of breast cancer. Some women get nauseated during chemotherapy and don't eat much -- but others have intense food cravings and tend to eat more. Body composition may also change and research shows that chemotherapy possibly diminishes lean body mass and increases fatty tissue. Menopause may also be to blame -- natural and chemically-induced menopause operate the same and both slow metabolism. So it takes more physical activity to burn what less activity accomplished prior to chemotherapy. Women experiencing treatment also tend to exercise less which can contribute to weight gain. And some women fault the Tamoxifen they take following chemotherapy -- although research does not support a strong link between the two. There are many possibilities. Yet none of them are definite. There is one definite, though -- a healthy menu, a healthy exercise routine, and a healthy support team can help women ward off this unfair consequence of an unfair disease.

Back in April, Lorien, a runner and a lawyer, was training for a marathon when she went to see the doctor because she wasn't feeling good. A month later, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

She began blogging Cancer Grrrl as the place to post her breast cancer experience. The title of her first post is taken from a Bladrunner quote, "NOW you know what it's like to live in fear." It's going to be a good blog, I can tell. She is open, and honest, and isn't shy about sharing exactly what is taking place with each procedure. A good blog for the newly-diagnosed who might wonder -- what's next?

Lorien also has a sense of humor, essential I believe to survivorship. When something as serious as cancer happens, there is a survival mode your brain seems to snap into that starts to see a great deal of irony and absurdity, the silly and the surreal, and the gently humorous, in places you might not have previously noticed.

If you go to visit her at the Cancer Grrrl blog, be aware that she has proclaimed this the International Week of Denial -- where for one week, everything that sux in life gets DENIED. She invites you to join her in the timeout week from any evil realities, and if you cannot make the whole week, she suggests you at least make a day of it. I am so taking at least one day this week to abandon any notion that anything is wrong.

via Marjory & Gordon's Beating Breast Cancer blog ...

I visited a neighbor yesterday who has breast cancer. She has had one dose of chemotherapy and just yesterday shaved her head. I stopped by to see her new hairstyle and to give her a gift -- a collection of goodies including a hat, some Healing Garden bath lotions and sprays, a flower pen I made, and a card reminding her that like me, she will survive the madness of breast cancer treatment and will go on to enjoy a full head of hair again. And while our travels will be similar in some ways, they are also very different.  You see, Gayle had a mastectomy and I did not. So I can't relate to the emotion that comes from losing a breast and feeling lopsided and searching for a bathing suit to mask the unevenness and waiting for reconstruction that won't take place until after chemotherapy is complete. But Gayle is one strong woman and while I know she will have dark moments at times, her attitude and spirit is remarkable. I went to visit her thinking I could spread some hope her way and I walked away with a dose of hope from her -- a woman new to this journey yet full of courage and strength and bravery.

Gayle, 33 years old, a wife, and mom of two small boys, told me she will go to work tomorrow with a bald head -- she is not interested in cover-ups -- and this makes her an exceptional person in my book. I never did bare my baldness to the world and kept it covered until my new hair was growing back. I admire Gayle -- and all the women who display their heads like badges of honor -- because she is a true survivor. And one who just might teach me a thing or two.