Flippin’ to Joy

“Health is Wealth.”

The line sounds like it was cracked from a fortune cookie— yet, wise words indeed. Part of my journey to becoming “wealthy” required sifting through grief after the cancer treatment. It hit me how terrifying the whole event was. I knew grief would be part of the circus, and yet I wasn’t prepared for the draining act. After the last post, I want to thank everyone who responded with such compassion.

A friend sent this message: “Your straightforward honesty is amazing and just one of your many superpowers. Go there (grief), and then come back. We’re all here for you.” I could feel in my body they were right. This difficult journey (going on one year) revealed deeper sisu (grit) and self-confidence— I can honor grief without letting it dominate me.

Also, all of you sent encouraging words that really helped, like soothing lines from fortune cookies. It unveiled the power of community. I’m so appreciative, and I’d like to share some words here, because healing feels better when it’s shared.

Let’s crack open some encouraging words:

1. “Empathy for Tough Twinkie taking a timeout. We all need to recharge once in a while. Your perseverance will endure!”

2. “It’s beautiful that you honored where you were in your journey with a celebration. It must be isolating at times going through all of this, and what a better way to fill the house with love and encouragement.”

3. “How does one rally ‘oneself’ to charge into the fire again and again? The courage, strength, resilience, grace—and yes, humor—with which you do it is an inspiration to all of us.”

4. “The toughest of Twinkies, physically AND emotionally!”

Thank you. I feel forever grateful for the empowering network surrounding my family and me.

Recently, a friend asked thoughtfully, “What was something helpful that people said to you during this journey?” After pausing for a moment, I responded, “People reminding me that I’m a ‘Tough Twinkie!’” The phrase has carried so much momentum for me. When I hear it, I feel empowered because it reminds me of my strength— physically, emotionally, and mentally.

The most significant impact has been y’all showing up, and it stays with me as I continue to show up with sincerity, grace, humor, and JOY.

Now, shall we flip out of the circus tent and into the fresh air? Most of the hard parts have been acknowledged. It’s time to spotlight the joyful shows that occurred because infusing joy whenever possible was an intention of mine.

Let’s flip-through the adventures; and if seems like bragging, good, I earned it.

In February 2025 I received the diagnosis, and yet I was given the green light to travel before treatment. So away I went (bye, Felicia)!

First to England - 

In London, Win and I ventured underground to sip coffee in a urinal from the Victorian-era… because when again would we drink coffee and piss in the exact same spot?

I fulfilled my teenage dream to attend the concert of the band, The Darkness. Seriously, the most talented musicians I’ve witnessed.

Next to Scotland - 

Hiking near Glencoe, Win and I chatted about how life could spin into hectic uncertainty during treatment. I understood if Win wasn't on board. BUT he confidently declared that he was in it with me. In that moment we got engaged.

Returning to the USA, we went to Las Vegas, NV -

Win and I were entertained by the charismatic band, The B-52s. They were magical! I was bummed I didn’t wear sequin pants.

We freed our imaginations at the Meow Wolf grocery store. (I wished I would have studied Graphic Design in Vegas!).

Then onto Houston, TX, because Win, my mom, and I went to meet with an Oncology team. 

We toured the mystical Buffalo Cistern, and the incredible host sang a beautiful serenade that echoed all around us. (Rosemarie, you said the song was healing and that I would pull through. I owe you a thank you card with an update!)

We stopped at the hilariously-curious Beer Can House. (Hm, Houston could’ve been an inspiring place to study Graphic Design, too).

Throughout the 6-rounds of chemotherapy infusions, I continued to enjoy concerts and events, spontaneous weekend trips, plus market strolls, and weekly chats or visits with friends and family. 

Post-chemo and gearing up for surgery, a friend treated us to a jeep tour that we called, “Bounce Your Boobs Off”. (Sam, handling that jeep and the jackasses on the road, you were a TOUGH TWINKIE. I owe you a thank you and update, too!)

After surgery, I celebrated with a party, “Tits on the Town”. At the end of the night, the silicone boobie shoulder pads that I wore were thrown into the street and I declared, “Piss Off Cancer!” Signaling the finale.

Scrolling through photos was an excellent reminder of what I accomplished throughout 2025. The biggest take away was that treatment squashed the tumor but Tough Twinkie charged on.

So… what’s next?

Well, I just want to reiterate that everyone can be a Tough Twinkie. The world is dark and it sure is craving more Twinkies. As for the circus, a commemorative Tough Twinkie tattoo is on the books. Stay tuned.