Updated 'Rollercoaster,' a tribute to cancer patient Nancy Fox, slated for August publication

The second edition of Rollercoaster should be ready for a curious public next month. 

With its first major revision in 15 years, the book, which now carries the adjusted subtitle How a man can survive his partner’s breast cancer or any other lethal disease, is up-to-the-minute insofar as medicines, treatments, and where to find help are concerned.

 

The volume, first of four I, Woody Weingarten, wrote since becoming a “retired” elder, contains several totally new chapters. It also features massive rewrites in virtually every other segment. 

Nancy and Woody, circa 1997

Nancy Fox, my musical-genius wife and muse who successfully battled breast cancer for more than three decades, is the heroine of Rollercoaster, a real-life love story and memoir. 

In effect, it is a tribute to her courage and ability to laugh and to genuinely enjoy her life despite having to forever fight off dangerous cells.

Anyone who wants to find information about my other three books should check out my website, www.woodyweingarten.com. 

 

Highlighted there are MysteryDates: How to keep the sizzle in your relationship; The Roving I, which features 70 favorite newspaper columns I penned; and Grampy and His Fairyzona Playmates, a children’s fantasy aimed at 6- to 10-year-olds that was co-written by my then-8-year-old granddaughter, Hannah Schifrin.

Cover design is final obstacle to publication of 2nd edition of Woody Weingarten's 'Rollercoaster'

A single design element yet to be decided for its cover is the final barrier to publication of the second edition of Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer or any other lethal disease.

Believe it or not, I, Woody Weingarten, its author, am still struggling to find the best way to disclose on the cover — without screening screwing up the initial design — that it's a completely updated edition. 

It should, however, be only a few weeks, and the addition of a few minute details on the copyright page, before the book will be made available to the public through vendors like Barnes & Noble and Amazon. Keep an eye on my https://woodyweingarten.com/ website to see when the book is launched.

Nancy Fox

The new volume includes up-to-date information on meds and treatments and where to get help, as well as two fresh chapters about the development of my wife's breast cancer, which returned after almost 30 years. 

Overall, it's even more of a tribute to Nancy Fox's bravery. flexibility, and humanness than was the first edition.

Several chapters have been switched around, for clarity, and new transition chapters have been inserted.

I spent an entire year reworking the book so it is current, easy-to-read (sans medical jargon), and useful as a guide to the emotional rollercoaster breast cancer or any other life-threatening disease might kidnap a patient or partner.

I, a longtime voting member of the San Francisco Bay Area Theater Critics Circle, can be contacted by email at voodee@sbcglobal.net or on both of my websites, https://woodyweingarten.comand https://vitalitypress.com. My books include Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner’s breast cancer, aimed at male caregivers; MysteryDates — How to keep the sizzle in your relationship; The Roving I, a compilation of 70 of my newspaper columns; and Grampy and His Fairyzona Playmates, a whimsical fantasy intended for 6- to 10-year-olds that I co-authored with my then 8-year-old granddaughter.

 

Blogger Woody Weingarten celebrates Nancy Fox''s 85th birthday at lunch with her daughter

Woody, Laura, and Nancy.

Today would have been the 85th birthday of my wife, Nancy Fox. I laughed aloud and wept with her daughter, Laura Schifrin, at lunch in one of Nance’s favorite restaurants. 

Most of my days are like that now — up and down, up and down, just like the rollercoaster we rode for more than three decades while we celebrated an extraordinarily happy marriage, life, and journey joined at the hip.

Nancy died May 2. I miss her more than words will ever convey. 

Celebrants need to pay attention to Nancy Fox's legacy and spirit, her creativity and kindness

The two big celebrations of Nancy Fox's life are done — the warm 'n' fuzzy in-person open house at her daughter's Novato home and the successful Zoom session that drew friends from all over the country (and Portugal), only a few of whom were digitally-challenged.

Now the task for celebrants is to pay attention every day to the fact that Nancy Fox's spirit and legacy will always be here.

She made it easy to remember her creativity, her humor, her intelligence, her musical genius, her lighthearted snarkiness, her kindness, her inner and outer beauty, and the countless anecdotes that illustrate each of those attributes. 

Her physical form will be missed every minute, but if we let it, her soul can envelop each of us and help mold us into a better, more giving person.

Sorry about that gushiness, sweetie, but you deserve it. You epitomize what everyone dreams they'd want in a partner, mom, grandmother, daughter, friend, and neighbor.    

Upbeat Zoom tribute to Nancy Fox's life set for this Sunday from 4 to 5:30 p.m. Pacific time.

The second celebration of Nancy Fox's life will take place this Sunday from 4 to 5:30 p.m. Pacific time, 7 to 8:30 Eastern, via Zoom. 

Nancy and Woody in Montreal

The format will be loose, with whomever wants to talk or do music doing just that, but with no speaking over another participant.

I'd prefer, as I did with the first celebration, that Nancy's life be the focus, not her death.

The link to get on will be:

https://us04web.zoom.us/j/9976147615?pwd=dzhHT2orL3VpQ2wzTVJsNUN6THozdz09

Meeting ID: 997 614 7615

Passcode: 694840

The successful in-person, open-house celebration at the Novato home of Laura Schifrin, Nancy's daughter, last Sunday drew 60-plus loving friends — and Kevin, the wild turkey who apparently insisted on personally greeting each guest. Hannah Schifrin, our granddaughter, continuously corralled the big pecker and directed traffic.

Laura and her partner, Adam Fox (no relation to Nance), spent four days preparing their home and the food to be served at the tribute to my partner of 36 years. 

Charlie Hickox schlepped his keyboard from Fairfax so he could play throughout the event (including a medley of Nancy's favorite tunes).

As for me, I reveled in receiving more hugs in one day than ever before — as well as the sensation that my recently departed spouse's spirit was present the entire time. She'll undoubtedly be there this Sunday as well.

In-person celebration of Nancy Fox's life slated for June 2 in Novato at her daughter's home

Nancy Fox, my wife/friend/concertmaster and collaborator for 36 years plus, died May 2. I will never forget her intelligence, charm, loveliness, and incredible sense of humor. 

An in-person, open house, celebration of her life will be held in a week — from 2 to 4:30 p.m. Pacific time Sunday, June 2 at the Novato home of her daughter, Laura Schifrin, and her granddaughter, Hannah Schifrin.

Obviously, I will be there, too.

The tribute to Nance will be free form, meaning there will be no rigid structure, but attendees may choose to relate anecdotes about her that evoke smiles or to perform some music in her honor. No one is required to do anything or stay for the entire time.

Food and drinks will be available.

Neither the Schifrins nor I expect anyone to travel a long distance for the event.

To get her address, you can reach Laura at 415-515-9988 or lschifrin@comcast.net. 

Although an rsvp isn’t required, it would be helpful — to allow the right amount of food to be ordered.

The following Sunday, June 9, from 4 to 5:30 p.m. Pacific, 7 to 8:30 Eastern, a Zoom celebration will be held. Just click on this link:

https://us04web.zoom.us/j/9976147615?pwd=dzhHT2orL3VpQ2wzTVJsNUN6THozdz09

Meeting ID: 997 614 7615

Passcode: 694840

I can be reached at 415-459-3434 and voodee@sbcglobal.net. 

Look for 'Grampy and His Fairzona Playmates'

Coronavirus delays the publication of new children's book by Woody Weingarten and his granddaughter

OK, I admit that the coronavirus has greatly disrupted my life.

And my octogenarian wife's.

It's forced us into a real retirement: There are no plays or concerts or museum openings for me to review; there's no weekly support group for me to run (where I normally help men whose partners have or had breast cancer or some other life-threatening disease); there are no performances in senior facilities where my wife, Nancy Fox, can skillfully do her "Piano and Patter" shows.

Yes, the bug is keeping us isolated at home, visitor-less, turning almost everything we do into a virtual reality. But, wonder of wonders, it's also allowing us to clean closets and drawers that have been accumulating crapola (and dust) for decades.

The spread of the virus, however, is also delaying publication of "Grampy and His Fairyzona Playmates."

That's my new VitalityPress book, a children's fairytale co-written with my granddaughter, Hannah Schifrin, and illustrated by a talented artist, Joe Marciniak.

When it'll come out is now a huge question-mark. Watch this space, as publicists are wont to say: I'll let you know when it all becomes tangible.

In the meantime, of course, you can purchase my first book, "Rollercoaster: How to survive your partner's breast cancer," through Amazon or through your local bookstore (if it's still open).

'Ask Amy' writer promotes 'ring therapy'

Syndicated columnist offers advice for cancer patients on dealing with anxious supporters

Amy Dickinson

"Grief circles" can be a useful tool for cancer patients to cope with their disease.

According to a recent syndicated "Ask Amy" column by Amy Dickinson, the circles — otherwise known as "ring therapy" — conceptualize "the important idea that, when dealing with tough to tragic times, it is important for the person at the center of the circle [the patient]…to preserve her strength by only dealing with the person most intimately involved in her care — this might be a spouse, family member, or friend."

Other relationships, she wrote, "arrange outward in concentric rings. This is called the 'kvetching order.'"

Dickinson's column, which was in response to an elongated cry for help by a breast cancer patient who signed her plea "Not Dead in California," said that "ring therapy is mainly…to give you permission to react the way you want to during a time when you need to preserve your strength."

The patient is "not supposed to be worrying about how to be gentle and polite," she adds.

Dickinson also notes that the patient "can say anything (complain, cry, howl at the room) to those in outer rings, but those in outer rings should limit their own needs, fears, and statements and focus only on being helpful. No unsolicited advice, no raging at the injustice of it all, no demands for comfort or constant updates."

The letter-writer had explained that a close friend was "having trouble coming to terms with my diagnosis, as well as my not taking her up on her offers of help (yet)," and noted that the friend had "called a few nights ago sobbing and looking to me to help her feel better [about my long-term prospects and diagnosis], "which isn't as good as it could be, but…also not as bad as it could be."

She went on to say that she'd "rather not be calming down my friends when inside I'm losing my mind with the slow paced of health care and juggling my appointments and treatments" and, in this particular case, "cannot be the person making [the friend] feel better about my illness."

The columnist advised the letter-writer to tell members of her support group that she understands "that this is hard for you, but I can't help you through this. I've got too much on my plate" — and to encourage such friends, when they are upset, "to contact someone else in an outer ring."

Details of how I, Woody Weingarten, dealt with my wife, Nancy Fox, when she was being treated for the disease can be found in "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer," a VitalityPress book I aimed at male caregivers.

It — and the Marin Man to Man website about a weekly support group I've been running since that time — includes anecdotal material about how she hadn't wanted to worry about my reactions to what was going on with her.

For 1st time, mammogram doesn't scare survivor

Breast cancer anxieties of 'Rollercoaster' author's wife vanish — after only 23 years 

Cancer-free Fox and Weingarten

My wife, Nancy Fox, wasn't at all afraid.

For the first time in 23 years.

She'd previously been nervous each time she'd gone for a mammogram, fearful the test would show her breast cancer had returned.

This go-'round, just last week, no anxiety — probably because she'd been cleared by her gynecologist two days before.

The follow-up letter from her primary physician confirmed the good news:

"No signs of breast cancer."

The letter also reprinted a statement required by California law that her dense breast tissue "can make it harder to evaluate the results of your mammogram and may also be associated with an increase risk of breast cancer."

But even that didn't scare her.

Her current emotional stability and mine clearly are far from the emotions I detailed more than two decades ago about having to let go "of my anger at doctors for not having instant answers, at pharmaceutical companies for manufacturing life-extending but not necessarily life-saving drugs, at myself for not having a magic wand."

Yes, I'd initially been petrified "breast cancer would be my wife's killer," but I also was thrilled to note more than two decades later that "she's flourishing today, as am I."

Specifics on how I, Woody Weingarten, and my wife managed the ups and downs of the diagnosis, treatments and aftermath can be found in "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer," my VitalityPress book aimed at male caregivers.

DNA mutations plus sun damage equals trouble

Genes linked to red hair and pale skin increase your risk of melanoma, a new study says

News reports, I've found, sometimes merely confirm what conventional and folk wisdom have known forever.

Case in point — the recent UPI story (based on one in HealthDay News) that carried the headline "Genes tied to red hair, pale skin greatly raise melanoma risk."

I could have told you that. 

Because I've been living for a long time with a woman with red hair and pale skin and freckles.

Nancy Fox — and her long red hair.

My wife, Nancy Fox, successfully had a melanoma on her arm removed — after she'd conquered breast cancer. And neither of us can count how many pre-cancerous growths she's had dermatologists cut out, burn off or otherwise remove.

But what I hadn't realize was that, at least according to the story, having the troublesome gene mutation — known as MC1R— "is roughly equivalent to the person spending an extra 21 years in the sun."

The British study, which examined more than 400 people and whose findings were published in Nature Communications, determined that "there were 42 percent more mutations linked to sun damage in the tumors of those carrying the red hair gene variant than in those without that DNA."

It showed, moreover, that "skin cancer isn't just about being more vulnerable to the sun's harmful UV rays. Carrying the MC1R gene variant raises the number of mutations triggered by sun exposure, the researchers explained, but it also raises the level of non-sun-linked mutations within tumors."

I, not incidentally, based my VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer," which is aimed at male caregivers, on my wife's courage in battling her cancers. 

Unfortunately, what she's still faced with — constantly — is having doctors take off pre-cancerous growths from her face, arms and other body parts. All because she has red hair and pale skin and didn't protect herself from the sun when she was young.

As Thanksgiving Day 2015 approaches…

We're grateful, decades later, for being cancer-free, in decent health — and still in love

Black Friday's right around the corner but I couldn't care less.

Indeed, I, Woody Weingarten, may be the world's worst consumer/shopper.

Woody Weingarten and Nancy Fox — still in love.

Necessities are what I purchase. Luxuries are what I tend to leave for everyone else to buy.

That's because I have virtually everything I truly need (the Bentley I've always fantasized about notwithstanding to the contrary).

With Thanksgiving Day also staring me in the face once again, though, I can't help but ponder what heads the list of hundreds of things I'm grateful for — with the answer coming quickly: 

My wife, Nancy Fox, and I — despite having entered our geezerhoods — are cancer-free, comparatively healthy, still "an item" and still in love after nearly 30 years together.

In recent public appearances, I ended both short and long speeches with two brief excerpts from my VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer." The book is aimed specifically at male caregivers but its messages clearly apply to both genders.

And the fragments act as reminders to both Nancy and me what we endured when she was diagnosed more than 20 years ago with breast cancer.

And that we've survived.

And thrived.

The initial excerpt is something I borrowed from my wife's diary. It was written after she'd been declared cured of the disease:

"I have considered what I want in my life. Peace, love harmony, an end to war throughout the world. Those desires have not changed. But now I want to pay more attention to Woody, be a better mother and daughter.

"I have allowed myself to befriend visualizations, crystals, vitamins, hands-on healing. I have prayed.

"I want this entry in my diary to be profound. I want to remember all the important things, to put them down for me and Woody and whoever to see. But I don't feel profound. I simply feel relieved, so glad it's over."

My excerpt is no less emotional. In fact, my eyes seem to water each time I read it:

"We can now offer greater understanding and kindness to each other — and to virtually everyone who touches our lives. We can now recognize it's not crucial what gender or age someone with a life-threatening disease is, and that both designated patient and anointed caregiver require nurturing.

"We can more regularly keep our priorities in order, strive for balance, unblock our spirituality and divert the million potential intrusions on our lives each week.

"The day we wed, I read [this] to my wife-to-be:

"Through all the nows and yet-to-comes, I pledge only this: to love you without reservations, as fully as the human condition will allow; to nurture our creative talents, so our individual and collective light may brighten a few shadowy corners of this dimension; and to cherish and retain, always, my glorious vision of us as soulmates…"

And then I inevitably add:

"Almost 30 years later, I haven't changed my mind — or my intent."

'Rollercoaster' author requests your presence

Save the date — for free talk at Copperfield's Books in San Rafael — and help me save face

Silver-haired Woody Weingarten.

I don't embarrass easily but I can on rare occasion get rather red-faced.

Especially, I imagine, if I'd throw a party and no one came.

Ergo, I'm asking you to save a date.

And then show up.

The time is 7 p.m. The date is Wednesday, Aug. 12. The place is Copperfield's Books, 850 4th St., San Rafael, California.

It's a free event.

So you can simply appear, or you can reserve a spot on the Copperfield's site — http://www.copperfieldsbooks.com/event/woody-weingarten.

I'll be talking about being a caregiver, especially for a patient with a life-threatening disease.

Specifically, I'll be focusing on the time 20 years ago when my wife, Nancy Fox, was diagnosed with breast cancer. And how we coped — individually and together — during treatments and their aftermath.

And how male caregivers (husbands, boyfriends, fathers, sons and brothers) are typically a forgotten part of the equation but need support, too.

But, in actuality, my presentation could apply to any of the 35 million U.S. caregivers, female or male.

I, Woody Weingarten, who has led the weekly Marin Man to Man support group for two decades, also will be signing my book afterwards.

"Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer" is unique, a comprehensive memoir-chronicle by an award-winning journalist, a love story and, perhaps more importantly, a guide to research, meds and help.

Want to check out what another author thinks of my book? Just click here.

Many of you have found that friending me on Facebook or following me on LinkedIn or Twitter is comparatively easy. Showing up takes a bit more effort. But I'd appreciate you taking that road less traveled, which in this case means being there and keeping me from being embarrassed by an empty room.

You'd miss learning whether my silver hair is matched by a newfound silver tongue. 

So, please… 

Save the date and help me save face. 

'Rollercoaster' is a love letter to author's wife

Podcast backs 'Rollercoaster,' author Woody Weingarten, helps caregivers and patients

Janet Gallin

Yes, 30 minutes and 33 seconds can take a chunk out of your day. 

But I'm worth it. 

So's my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer."

Besides, you can always split the 30:33 into multiple listening sessions.

On the other hand, if you find it that enthralling, listen again. 

And again.

What in Heaven's name am I raving about?

The amount of time it'll take to hear a new podcast with and about me, Woody Weingarten, and my book. 

It lovingly promotes both — and, in the process, helps breast cancer caregivers and patients.

The interviewer is Janet Gallin. The venue is her creation, Love Letters Live, once a San Francisco radio talk show and now a vital branch of the examiner.com tree that, I've been informed, is "an entertainment, news and lifestyle network serving more than 20 million monthly readers around the world."

Click here to find the podcast button on the bottom of her page about me, Woody Weingarten and "Rollercoaster."

"Writing love letters filled with hope, passion, compassion, memories, gratitude and promises," she contends, "is  significant gift to writer, recipient and generations to come."

Check out my love letter to my wife, Nancy Fox. You may learn something interesting about her, me, my book or being a caregiver.

The 1971 Alka Seltzer commercial that became a catch-phrase may have said it better than I can: "Try it. You'll like it."

Weekly boosts breast cancer caregiving book

San Francisco paper bolsters 'Rollercoaster,' male caregiver's guide to light at tunnel's end

Woody and Nancy now

Abracadabra!

Like welcome magic, the first full-length newspaper feature about “Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner’s breast cancer” has appeared.

The print version was published Jan. 10, 2015. 

An online edition followed.

Editors put an intriguing headline on the piece: A memoir about cancer from the other side of the bed.

Here's the story, reprinted by permission in its entirety:

by liz harris, staff writer

j. the Jewish news weekly of Northern California

Their love story is sweet and also remarkable: Woody Weingarten and Nancy Fox met as teenagers in New York and vowed eternal love. They dated for a while and then, questioning their commitment, cut it off and completely lost touch.

Decades later, after a chance meeting in Mill Valley, their love rekindled. At midlife, they became husband and wife.

Seven years into their marriage, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Life became a wild ride.

In “Rollercoaster,” a book 20 years in the making, Weingarten offers an unblinking look at how breast cancer affected him and Fox from diagnosis to the present day. Its primary focus is to help male caregivers through the process, thus the subtitle: “How a man can survive his partner’s breast cancer.”

“Rollercoaster” is also meant to help others navigate the emotional and physical ups and downs, as well as the mountains of confusing medical studies and different treatment options, that come with the disease.

Today life is good, Weingarten declares during an interview in the couple’s sun-drenched hilltop home in San Anselmo. With Fox cancer free for many years, they travel, enjoy a busy social life and pursue lifelong passions. Weingarten, 77, who retired in 2007 after 24 years as managing editor of J. (formerly the Jewish Bulletin), still writes for local newspapers and is working on a new book. Fox, 75, a pianist whose white baby grand piano is the focal point of their living room, still performs at local retirement homes, senior centers and JCCs.

Weingarten acknowledges that “Rollercoaster” isn’t exactly an easy read, but he believes it is a valuable one.

“My major aim is to help people — men whose partners have any life-threatening disease,” he says. “What you go through. What you can expect.”

He utilized his journalism skills to craft a love story/“memoir-chronicle” and comprehensive resource for anyone affected by breast cancer, with current, meticulously researched information on medications, scientific studies and helpful resources.

He also includes a short list of books written for partners of breast cancer patients. “In the last 15 years there have been 15 books published by [and for] men,” he says, while noting that “most of them are way out of date, not well written.”

Weingarten’s book is “positive,” he says. “There’s light at the end of the tunnel.” It also is sprinkled with humor. In fact, asked for the most important piece of advice he can give

Caregivers have each other's backs — always

'Rollercoaster' author and wife turn caregiving and love into a permanent lifestyle choice

I, Woody Weingarten, always have my wife's back. 

And she, Nancy Fox, always has mine.

To whimsically stretch the metaphoric cliché, we always have each other's fronts and sides as well.

Much of that's been chronicled in my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer."

Its focus is caregiving.

For Nancy and me, that's a lot more than a word — it's a lifestyle choice, one we insist on making every day.

Sunrise view from hot tub in San Anselmo.

Ever since Nancy's diagnosis 20 years ago we've started every a.m. with a soft kiss, trading the phrase "Good morning, I love you."

We never add a "too."

Just an unadorned "Good morning, I love you" in each direction.

We met the first time almost 60 years ago.

The second time, the one that stuck, didn't happen until nearly 30 years later. 

Totally across the country.

We've now been married 27 years, and still make sure we spend a quiet 10 minutes each morning in non-sexual intimacy. 

Chatting. Touching. Smiling.

A lot of times the ritual takes place in the hot tub behind our San Anselmo home. Watching a sunrise.

Sometimes we sit in our deck chairs. Or on our living room couch. Or reclining in bed. The location doesn't matter; the good feelings do.

Sometimes we're silent. Sometimes we list the positive things in our lives. Sometimes we verbalize our love.

At night now and then, we climb into the hot tub and check out the twinkling stars or glowing yellow moon. Those occasions underscore the day's tendernesses.

We've never labeled exactly what we do. But I just thought of something that fits:

Each of us is a love whisperer.

Foxy 'Rollercoaster' heroine plays piano on Fox

Pianist Nancy Fox, tap dancer in wheelchair show Fox viewers how music cheers elderly

Nancy Fox

Fox News Channel 2 has spotlighted Nancy Fox, heroine of the new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer."

The heart-warming segment was televised Christmas Day at 5 p.m., then repeated at 6.

If you missed it, you can catch it on the KTVU Channel 2 website.

Just click here, then click on the video (and wait a second or three for it to load).

Enjoy!

Nancy was paired with Maree Gilmore, whom she first encountered a few months ago during a piano gig at the rehab facility where Maree lives.

When the 83-year-old (who's confined for the most part to a wheelchair) spontaneously started tap dancing to Nancy's rhythms, presto, an instant friendship was magically born.

The duo then taped, on Nancy's 75th birthday, an inspiring three-minute video with the theme "Disibilities Don't Limit." That effort is available on YouTube.

A short time later, Sharon Navratil, a producer for the San Francisco Bay Area's Fox affiliate, KTVU, saw a reference to the video in a life-affirming letter Nancy had written to the Marin Independent Journal.

She was so moved she soon brought a camerawoman-editor, Anne Onate, to Kindred Nursing and Traditional Care center in Greenbrae to film the pair for the Fox audience.

Maree Gilmore

Nancy's brilliantly been stroking the eighty-eights there and at countless other senior facilities for years, despite being hard of hearing.

The two-person crew carefully spent almost two hours taping the duo for a segment that lasts only minutes.

Nancy, who's now in her 20th year of being cancer-free, likes to quote from her letter to sum up her feelings about the video and the newscast: "I hope our duet will inspire people with disabilities to continue doing what they love."

She also enjoys repeating what she said in "Rollercoaster," the book I, Woody Weingarten, authored: "I can be happy and healthy…As a card-carrying member of the Cancer Club, a card-carrying member of the human race, I want joy in the years [ahead]."

Nancy's friends emailed and called to offer congratulations — from as far away as Hawaii, where a happy couple streamed the telecast as it was happening — after the newscasts aired.

Those appreciations returned to my foxy Fox wife some of the cheer and joy she's brought others — cheer and joy that could be witnessed in her segment with Maree on Fox.

The whole enchilada could be called a study in inspiration, perfect for the holiday season, or, for that matter, any time.

Caregiving author — surprise! — gives thanks

Writer's eyes mist up at end of a flawless day as he re-reads dedications in 'Rollercoaster'

Thanksgiving Day 2014 is gone. So's the bird. And the cranberries.

But the good feelings linger on.

The holiday started with my wife, Nancy Fox, and I in our hot tub splitting 20 minutes of spontaneity itemizing what we're grateful for.

We covered a lot of ground.

Although I'm sure we each could have gone on for at least another 20 minutes, we decided to stop at an emotional peak.

And only once did I feel a need to refer to this marking my partner's 20th year of being free of breast cancer (a subject I cover thoroughly in my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his wife's breast cancer").

Midway through the day, we added to the warm 'n' fuzzy sensations.

We traveled to Whistlestop, a San Rafael facility that provides transportation, programs and meals for seniors, the disabled and the poor all through the year — not to mention a special lunch with all the trimmings on Turkey Day.

Nancy played background piano for 90 minutes.

Nancy Fox performs as Woody Weingarten
 reads song requests from audience
during Thanksgiving lunch. Photo by
Frankie Frost/Marin Independent Journal.

I'd checked with each diner and volunteer for his or her favorite tunes, then handed the lists to my wife. She easily rendered each one (because she miraculously retains thousands of tunes in her mind, and plays them all by ear).

Heads bob. Bodies that may otherwise be bent with pain sway comfortably. Toes tap.

And faces smile.

It's ecstasy for the two of us to be able give back this way each year.

And it was an unexpected pleasure to see our photo on the online cover page of the Marin Independent Journal, our local daily newspaper, accompanying its story of the meal.

Then, a family dinner for seven happily topped off a flawless Thanksgiving.

But my eyes misted as I appropriately ended the day re-reading the dedication to my book. I was again moved by my interactions with:

• Nancy, my soulmate, wife, friend and companion who supported "Rollercoaster" even when it crossed the line of intimacy and took forever to finish.

• Irving N. Weingarten,, my father-hero who up to his dying breath was convinced I
should write a book — though I suspect he would have preferred a less weighty volume.

• Matilda Weingarten, my mother whose immense strength I failed to see until her final years.

• Janis L. Brown and Mark D. Weingarten, my daughter and son, who consistently gave me love and admiration, even when I occasionally handed them inflexibility.

• Zachary Weingarten and Drew Brown, my grandsons, and Hannah Schifrin, my granddaughter, who have brought me pleasure upon joy upon delight.

• Laura Schifrin, Hannah's mom, who generously sanctioned tons of time — which meant gobs of fun — for me to spend with her effervescent kid.

• Marv Edelstein, Dan Goltz, Heinz Feldman, John Teasley and the other Marin Man to Man support group regulars and drop-ins who for decades endured my incessant chatter.

• Edward Marson, whose artistry is responsible for the graphic design of my book's covers; Larry Rosenberg, whose photo made me more pensive than ever; Alan Babbitt, whose back-cover shot lovingly captured Nancy and me lovingly staring at each other; and Wayne Heuring and Steve Cook for proofreading and copy-editing "Rollercoaster" and making me look at every word, especially a few tortured metaphors and similes.

• Charlie Durden, a friend I will always miss, who vanished from my life one day into the L.A. smog, and died.

• All those buddies, acquaintances, relatives and colleagues I haven't cited by name who
helped me and Nancy through the breast-cancer years (as well as after and before).

And, last but definitely not least, each and every caregiver and patient who's been forced to ride in a cancer rollercoaster.

Giving thanks on Turkey Day and every day

Breast cancer upshot — a grateful patient who survived, a grateful surviving caregiver

Thanksgiving is but a blink and a quarter away.

Which triggers thoughts about what I'm grateful for (parallel, I expect, to what most folks living in these United States experience).

This year, my wife's 20th free of breast cancer, I'm particularly thankful for her survival. And for my having survived.

And for every day we're alive.

Being a patient can be tough under the best of circumstances. Being a caregiver certainly isn't easy. Facing a life-threatening disease can make it all the more difficult.

I shudder even now when recalling what we've had to deal with — the malady, its treatments and aftermath, an unrelenting up and down journey that I've chronicled in my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer."

Rainbows bounce off dining room table in
the home of Woody Weingarten and Nancy Fox.

But the image I try to retain in my mind is totally positive. It's of the circular glass-top table in our dining room, one whose artistic acrylic base acts as a prism that turns natural sunbeams into rainbows streaming throughout the room.

Fantabulous! Breathtaking! Not bad!

Twenty years ago we'd wanted to replace our unattractive rectangular wooden table that was surrounded by eight uncomfortable wooden chairs that could have passed for a torture rack.

So we looked, and we looked, and we looked.

Furniture store after discount store after department store.

Nada! Zilch! Diddly squat!

Then, after months of searching, we chanced across a wondrous table at an upscale showroom in Berkeley. We couldn't come close to affording it.

So we decided to track down the San Francisco-based Russian émigré artist who'd created it. And we did.

We asked him if he could build a less expensive version for us. He could.

But we still couldn't afford it.

So we let it go.

Until a couple of months later, when my wife, Nancy Fox, was diagnosed with breast cancer.

We both were terrified she might die — soon.

So we instantly decided to buy the table, figuring we needed to live "here and now" and enjoy whatever we could with whatever time she had left.

Two decades later we're still enjoying the furniture.

Every day.

Even when it's cloudy and there are no rainbows.

And we've mentally amortized its cost so, in our minds, we could afford it.

Softening the impact of breast cancer chemo

Humorous photos don't appear in 'Rollercoaster' but helped couple deal with hair loss

Rhoda Draws in her studio.

Humor can help patients and caregivers cope.

So can artistic flights of fancy.

At a time when her breast cancer and chemo-induced loss of hair turned my wife, Nancy Fox, into a portrait of cheerlessness, Rhoda Draws, a painter-caricaturist-friend based in Mill Valley, California, superimposed some playfulness on half a dozen photographs.

Nancy couldn't help but smile.

Nor could I.

Nancy, digitally enhanced.

Rhoda, who's also an author and teacher, presented the re-imagined photos (aka digitally enhanced, or cyber-imaged) to Nancy as a gift.

Immediately, my wife for a while stopped mourning the loss of her shoulder length, red hair — what she describes in my new book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer," as "the one part of my body that I have loved unconditionally."

None of the distinctive photos accompany my narrative. Not because Nancy doesn't appreciate them 20 years after her diagnosis and treatment, but simply because I, Woody Weingarten, didn't use any illustrations at all in the book.

Nancy used the six re-imagined, often whimsical photos on a one-page flyer she sent to friends and family members who aided her. She added this text: "Thanks for your helping hands…and your loving heart…during all my changes."

The front of our refrigerator is decorated with two of the images — on magnets. They still make us smile, every day.

And cope.

And remember the ups and downs of the past triggered by passages in "Rollercoaster."

Such as:

• "Her dread of going bald had careened off the charts. Just before turning out the lights she recalled that as a girl with braids down to her waist, she'd panicked when her mother demanded she cut them off."

• "I do wish she could consistently see herself as I do, as a beautiful creature with or without hair."

• Sadness about her missing hair — even though that loss was temporary — remained the biggie for Nancy. A year after her final treatment, she wrote in her journal that it 'was clearly the psychologically devastating part of the cancer."

• It had taken more than two years before she could look at images of her baldness…She agreed at last to put the photos of her hairless stage into two albums…[She] triggered my caregiver button: 'You and I will never see it the same way,' I replied sincerely. 'Your high cheekbones and eyes showed off better when there was no hair to look at. The fact is, you're lovely both ways.'"

Two decades after her breast cancer diagnosis, Nancy's loveliness still makes me tremble.

Even though her hair is draped around her shoulders again.