Still Swinging at 85

Last week, I turned 85.

And this week, I’m still swing dancing.

People like to tell me I’m remarkable for my age, but I don’t think that way. I don’t spend time thinking about how old I am. I spend my time thinking about how to keep going.

Most days, my life is full. I go to swing dance classes, take walks, do Tai Chi at home, tend to my garden, and attend yoga every Friday. I run errands, see friends, shop for groceries, and keep myself moving. When I feel stressed, I put on music and dance around the house.

If you sit down and stop, the rest of you stops too. I wasn’t raised that way, and I refuse to live that way now.

A Full Life Before Cancer

Before my diagnosis, I worked as a lunch server at Warrenton Middle School. I loved being around the kids. Earlier in life, when I lived in New Jersey, I worked as a special education teacher’s aide. I’ve always enjoyed being useful and being part of something bigger than myself.

Family has always been the center of my life. I spent years going to football games, band performances, gymnastics meets, horseback riding shows, and basketball games for my children and grandchildren. Showing up for those moments meant everything to me. When my husband was diagnosed with leukemia, I moved to Warrenton to be closer to family. That was nearly 20 years ago.

Cancer was already part of my story. I just didn’t expect it to come back to me.

When I Was Diagnosed

My diagnosis began with a problem in my mouth. My primary care doctor didn’t like how it looked and sent me to an ENT specialist. From there, I had a biopsy and scans.

When the doctor told me I had cancer, I could tell he was nervous to break the news. I was upset, of course. Anyone would be. But I told him right away that I was not going to give up my dancing. At that point, I still believed I wouldn’t have to.

Some things did change. I had to let go of parts of life I loved. But I made a decision early on: I was not going to give up living. I had seen what happens when people give up. I wasn’t interested in that version of the future.

Finding Strength and Support

Faith carried me through the hardest moments. Church was my anchor. When I couldn’t attend, my pastor came to my home. My name was placed on prayer lists. I felt supported in ways I can’t fully explain.

My family stood by me too. My daughter often comes to appointments with me, especially when I’m waiting for scan results. My son has joined by phone when distance kept him away. Knowing someone is there with you makes the heavy moments lighter.

I’ve also learned how important it is to advocate for yourself. I don’t cancel appointments. I schedule the next one before I leave. I write everything down. I bring records from one doctor to another, so everyone stays informed. Doctors can’t help you if they don’t have the full picture.

Care Close to Home

I chose Virginia Cancer Specialists because I wanted care close to home. I didn’t want long drives if I didn’t have to. Over the years, I’ve built strong relationships with my doctors there. Dr. Maran and Dr. Marsh know me well, and that history matters. There’s comfort in being cared for by people who understand where you’ve been and who you are today.

I believe the relationship with your doctors matter. I always say I want a happy doctor. We learn from each other. They know medicine. I know my body. Good care comes from that partnership.

Even when treatment changed parts of my life, I adapted. Eating became difficult. I learned how to find foods that worked and ways to make everyday routines easier. I turned errands into social moments and found comfort in the connections I made along the way.

Why I Keep Dancing

Swing dancing has never just been a hobby for me. It keeps me moving, motivated, and connected. The music, the rhythm, the people — it all reminds me why I keep going.

I believe it has helped keep me alive.

Movement matters. Joy matters. Purpose matters.

A Different Perspective

Cancer changes how you see things. I won’t pretend I’m happy it happened. Some years feel taken from me. But I also know I’ve lived a good life. A full life. And I still have more life to live.

If I could give advice to anyone facing something similar, it would be this: go to your doctors. Listen to them. Ask questions. Stay active. And don’t give up what brings you joy.

I’m not finished yet.

As long as I can, I’ll keep moving.

I’ll keep dancing.

And I’ll keep living.