Alright, I’ve had enough rum tonight so I can talk (type) freely.

Y’all might not know Melissa Owsley, the lovely lady who Michael O’Connor had the fantastic luck of landing as a bride. As of this past weekend, she is the proud(?) owner of a chemotherapy port, which will allow her to more easily receive medication that will kill off any lingering cancerous cells in her body since her surgery just before Penguicon last month.

I want to make this short and sweet. Melissa is a multipurpose fan – webmistress of pinatariders.org, program asset to at least two different metro Cons, and a MichiganFandom Pundit Extraordinaire. She’s one of our dearest friends and has been through seriously life-saving surgery from a bad-ass tumor that might have killed her if it hadn’t been discovered maybe a day later. She’s opinionated, yes. She’s stubborn, yes. She’s outspoken and can be a pain in the ass for people who can’t take that kind of heat. But…

She’s just survived emergency cancer surgery, and boy is she pissed. I think you might allow her this. Ovarian cancer moves extremely fast, but those insufferable immune system quirks she’s had to live with all her life—might have apparently just saved it.

The notion of chemo is already causing concern regarding those allergies, which you might know have ruled her life with an iron fist for decades. The tumor is GONE, the cancer is hopefully GONE, and Melissa is STILL WITH US. Knowing that she’s still in line for chemo and the side effects she’s bound to experience in this next phase has got us absolutely scrambled in the brain and morale department, even if the worst seems to be over. Melissa is not exactly a typical patient and the road ahead is quite rocky.

We’ve lost a few outstanding fen in the last year. We also have the great opportunity to appreciate two of our best, who are a little(!?) under the weather. Nobody in this stinking state is doing exceedingly well, but I have to say that for getting through this, Melissa and Mike are an inspiration and need to know we’re there for them. At the very, very least, reach out and give a comforting word, or a helping hand where it is needed, because sometimes we are all that we have.

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