Cancer Free Fandango!

Last year I declared that when I was pronounced cancer free, I'd be so happy I'd dance the Fandango!

At the end of June, the oncologist declared that my cells were normal, and Bob said, "That's the only normal thing about her."

Then I jumped up from my seat and threw confetti in the air.

Doctor Tudor said, "In 41 years of practice, that's the first time anyone's thrown confetti here."

Bob offered to sweep it up, but the nurse said no, she didn't want him to, because she was going to show it to her coworkers.

I think I should have thrown more...
😁

I looked up Fandango dance moves, but couldn't pull anything together that didn't look awkward, so I consulted my nearly-10-year-old granddaughter Kimbree for choreography help. (She makes a cameo appearance at the end.)

 She can do the moves much better than I, but encouraged me to, "Move your hips, Grammy! Swing your arms!" Since I'm the cancer survivor, here's my Funky Chicken style FAN-dango! 

(Watch for it at the end!)

I enlisted my 13-year-old grandson Landon as cameraman, and here's what we came up with!

I'm so happy to be granted a few more years on this vacation we call life, and I'm so glad you're vacationing with me.

Love you!

Immunotherapy Smile

At my next-to, next-to-last immunotherapy session this past week, the nice nurse drew a smile on my wristband. I didn't even notice until I left the Cancer Clinic, but it gave me such a boost, I wore it for the rest of the day.

An interesting thing I've learned during cancer treatments (only TWO MORE TO GO! YAY!) is that people under treatment are some of the happiest, most optimistic people I've ever encountered. Even those who've told me they're incurable are smiling (at least their eyes are smiling above their masks) chatting, and viewing the world in a generally rosy light.

I met a first-time-visit lady in the waiting room, accompanied by her husband, adult daughter, and adult son seeing to her paper work, lab work, and generally radiating concern and love for her. 

As I left the treatment room after my immunotherapy, I saw her hooked up to her own cocktail of anti-cancer drugs. She lifted her hand toward me, so I walked over and took hold of it. As we gazed at one another, tears rose in both our eyes. Then I whispered, "You're going to be just fine." I didn't know her prognosis. I just meant that whether she lived or died, she was surrounded by love, which truly makes everything just fine.

Why are the outlooks of these people so positive, even for those who will experience their dying day on this year's calendar?

I don't know. Maybe it's because after cancer patients face death up close, they determined to live what's left of their lives for the truly important things. 

What use is a brand new car, shiny jewelry, or runway clothes if you aren't around to use them? 

Why hold grudges if they just hurt your heart? 

What good is anger toward cancer if it's not going to cure it?

I find these attitudes very inspiring.

In a way, it's too bad that I have to receive cancer treatments to be around such uplifting people, caretakers and patients alike.

I'll just be happy to see them around town instead.

What experience have you had that changed your point of view?

Writers for Life

On June 7th, I was fortunate enough to attend the "Writers for Life" conference at the Utah Valley Medical Center, a cancer research fund raiser put together by Cheminant Flitton. (Standing left in the photo below with the This-Is-such-A-Great-Day smile.)

This conference worked because of the marvelous authors who contributed their time to give fabulous presentations. Below, Lisa Mangum is smiling in the green shirt, because she recently returned from Disneyland. (I could still see the impressions of the Mickey Mouse ears in her hair.) There I am, standing in the pink shirt, and sitting at my left is the oh-so-encouraging Jenni James, who has had crazy good success, putting out an incredible 13 books last year!

I was delighted to see my good friend, Jeff Scott Savage!

And beautiful Josi Kilpack was dedicated enough to come even though she was scheduled for wedding pictures for her daughter later in the day! (Her first child married! Congratulations, and welcome to the Mother-in-law Club, Josi!)

I always love to hear from Larry Correia, a master of action writing!

And here's Brandon Sanderson, who had to talk fast and skip some of his slides to get all of his information in. (He's not short. I had thick-soled flip flops on.) 

Cheminant is also in this photo, because, after all, he was the one who started this whole thing, and he was there until the end. Well done, Shem! 

Heartening SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!

I received a message from talented new author CHERI CHESLEY that really can't be ignored if you have a heart beating in your chest. If her words doen't move you, then you'd better whip out your stethoscope and check to see if you're still alive.
In part, Cheri's message reads "I hate feeling helpless...So I decided I’m going to help. And here is your opportunity to join in the fun."
This can be a great chance for you. I can vouch for the fresh, exciting approach that Cheri takes to literature. We can't keep her book in our library doors. It keeps getting checked out.
Now it's your turn to check out the following link and read the message from Cheri. (I think she's my new hero.) MORMON MOMMY WRITERS