Way before the diagnosis…and way before everything happened, I wanted to attend AWP, because it was in LA! I was looking at my credit card points and planning and planning about how we could stay downtown, how great it would be to be there. But then of course, life happened.

When the nurse at the clinic asked me if I had upcoming trips planned, I replied that I didn’t. But that I wanted to go to LA for a conference at the end of March—though I hadn’t purchased registration yet or bought any details. She took my information and entered it into my record and that was that. As the treatments progressed, I was quite certain that end of March wouldn’t work out for me. Chemo, radiation, I would feel sick or tired. But then I decided that maybe I could just do the offsites—the readings, the parties so that I wouldn’t have FOMO.

And then suddenly in early February, I learned that active treatment was done. Of course there was medication that would be a struggle. But I was done done done!

So I decided to go. Even though I hadn’t worked on my novel for months. Even though I hadn’t submitted anything to anything for months. Because what’s worse—feeling healthy and active from afar seeing all the joy and all the people I could have seen…or being here and reveling in the joy?

A friend who saw my announcement noted, “You have so much energy! You look so good!”

Am I? I didn’t think that I was any less than before. Or that I was anything but. I was just so happy to see people I hadn’t seen for awhile—especially those who I met online five years ago when the world closed. My writing life has grown in ways that I didn’t expect and I am just so so grateful for it.