Vimpat Savings Card: Use It

I take 500mg of Vimpat daily. With only 400mg approved by the FDA as the recommended dose, the last 100mg that I take each night isn’t covered by insurance. While my dosing is completely safe, has been monitored by a neurologist for years, and is exactly what I need to keep my seizures under control, the last 100mg still has to be paid completely out of pocket.

Thanks to this patient savings card my co-payments are covered for the entire year of 2017. With that being said, you should look into this savings card for yourself.

Who doesn’t qualify: patients covered by any federal or state funded healthcare program (including, but not limited to, Medicare [Part D and Medigap], Medicaid, any state pharmaceutical assistance program, and TRICARE.


No, this isn’t some sort of Vimpat promotion or sponsorship..I wish! I just thought that those of you also taking Vimpat would want to know about this money saving option.

A surprise worth sharing

Being here, senior year, is a surprise worth sharing.

I thought maybe I would make it through the first, or second year of college. Then I would have a recurrence, go through treatment again, and die. It wasn’t just a fear; it was statistical and founded in research. Brain tumors are the number one killer of those under the age of 19 and with my tumor type a recurrence within the first two year isn’t all that uncommon. Now at 21, I am graduating college. I have not had a recurrence, and I am stable. My next scan is coming up, but I’m not even worried. In fact, I forgot that I even needed to make the appointment. Whatever happened to scanxiety?

I never thought that I would make it to this point. When I entered my freshman year of college it had been less than a year since my awake-craniotomy. I was still having flashbacks to surgery on nearly a daily basis. My life was living in fear moment to moment, wondering when the next seizure would hit, when I would be told to pack up and come home to live with my parents because I couldn’t safely live on my own anymore. I thought that I would go to school for as long as I could, learn as much as I could, and just try to experience as much as possible for as long as possible.

This didn’t really hit me until I defended my thesis because a thesis is something that people plan for. They start their research early, they select committee members, and they write for years. I did so, but I didn’t expect to actually follow the plan through to the end, because I didn’t think that I would get the chance to. The night before I defended I realized how shocked I was to be in this position. It was so…satisfying. The same professor I met my shell-shocked freshman year, back when I couldn’t sit through a film in class because the sound was too loud, was the same committee member that I met with every week this semester to put the finishing touches on my thesis, and the same committee member who saw me blossom into someone who believed in the possibility of a future.

For so long I just didn’t think that one would come. I was so afraid of tomorrow, of next week, next month, the next scan, that when I finally started being able to plan years in advance it seemed beyond my wildest imagination that I would actually get there.

Donate your spit for science. I did.

I did my part to help science this week via spitting in this lil container for The International Low-Grade Glioma Registry. Dr. Elizabeth B. Claus has organized a study with researchers at Yale University School of Public Health and Brigham and Women’s Hospital Department of Neurosurgery to learn more about low-grade glioma (LGG). This study is partially funded by the American Brain Tumor Association and seeks to figure out why some people develop LGG and others do not, the effect of this diagnosis and the associated treatments on daily life including the ability to work, drive, sleep, exercise, or take care of oneself and/or family, etc.


Any person over the age of 20 years with an initial diagnosis of LGG can participate. The study asks participants to 1) provide a pathology report, 2) complete a 20min online questionnaire and 3) provide a saliva sample that allows them to look at changes in DNA.

Dr. Claus is extremely receptive and responsive to questions, (we have been emailing back and forth for the past week) and is interested in what patients have to say. She’s even considering making a Twitter account to join #btsm! If you fit the requirements for this study (age 20+ and have been diagnosed with a LGG) I beg you to participate. Research on us current brain tumor patients will benefit future patients.

Upload a document. Take the short survey. Spit in a container the size of a contact case..for science.

You can learn more about the study and how to enroll here.

Conversations that matter

This year I was fortunate enough to be asked to moderate a panel at Stanford Medicine X. The panel was called “Ah-Ha! moments in mental health and chronic disease management,” and I used the moment to shine a light on the similarities between patient communities regardless of age and diagnosis. The room for our panel was packed, and had standing room only. Each of the panelists – Mark Freeman, Danielle Edges, Ally Ferlito, and Sarah Kucharski – nailed their responses to questions and so clearly articulated the importance of mental health both in their own lives and in the lives of others within their patient communities.


We saved time for a few questions at the end, and Christopher Snider pulled one from the live Twitter audience who was tuning in. We also had a physician remind the room how there is simply a lack of training related to patient mental health. His reminder didn’t present as an attack on the panel, but rather as words of empathy and a pleading apology to panelists after hearing how systems have failed and continue to fail some of them. As a follow up to his statement, I reminded everyone in the room how there were several Student Leadership Program attendees present for this session. Hopefully these students – future pharmacists, physicians, and researchers, took away a better understanding of the patient experience. Those attending the conference within the Student Leadership Program (SLP) blossomed, many receiving offers for funding their venture ideas, connecting with physicians for mentorship, and successfully networking amongst other guests. As an SLP Advisor, I felt like a proud parent! It was an honor to help coordinate the SLP program, and to improve upon accessibility efforts. It’s exciting to know that I was one of the youngest people there with very few undergraduate students, yet still tasked with the responsibility and respected for expertise, whether that be as a patient or student. And to think that two years ago I was apprehensive about applying to the program. This just shows that age, degrees, and professional qualifications cannot be substituted for life experience.

Just like last year, I met more people than I can count. But, out of everyone, Elizabeth Jameson stood out as the clear frontrunner as the person who I was supposed to meet. She was a part of the ePatient program as well, and I was immediately drawn to her. Liz was too. elizabethI think that we all had an instant connection. I found one of Elizabeth’s cards on the ground, and can swear that I have come across her artwork somewhere else before. While my admiration of her work certainly opened up the conversation, I believe that we were meant to meet for other reasons. You can see some of her pieces here. Elizabeth specializes in the intersection of art and science, and has secondary progressive Multiple Sclerosis. She and her artist assistant Catherine Monahon have created some incredible pieces over the years, all of which center around her own brain scans, similar to the ones that I have created in the past. I think that Elizabeth’s artwork speaks to the power of the patient voice, and also the reclaiming of one’s condition in a world so focused on fixing and medicating upon diagnosis. Her work is featured in permanent art collections at places like the National Institutes of Health, Stanford University, Yale University, and the Center for Brain Science at Harvard University, and I can only hope that one day we can collaborate on a piece of artwork together.

Friends and conversations had at 2015’s conference have translated into opportunities for 2016-2017, too. I’ll post that update later this month.

Disclosure: This post is one of several as a part of the Stanford Medicine X ePatient Scholar Program – Engagement Track, for which I receive financial support for travel, lodging, and registration fees for this conference. The views expressed in this post are my own.

The missing link?

Nurses have always kept me feeling safe when I’ve been at my most vulnerable. Like the time I had spinal fluid leaking after back surgery, and they reassured me that I just needed to stay still for a few days so that I didn’t get a headache. Or the time I had brain surgery, and they helped me stand up for the first time afterwards even though I was secretly afraid. It was nurses who chatted with me when I didn’t have any visitors, or when my parents were gone, and nurses are who I’ve seen gain the trust of the patients who I volunteer with time and time again. I talk about nurses and patients on the oncology floor I’ve spent a great deal of time on here in the context of nurses being connectors and bond builders from day one through puppy photos, turning machine alarms off, and frequent medication administering to build trust and respect.

If nurses are able to connect with patients so well, and have this knack for earning trust and respect, why aren’t there more nurses at Stanford Medicine X (MedX)? Perhaps it’s because they don’t know about the conference, or, perhaps they don’t think that the conference is for them just yet. I think that that may change after this year. A panel is dedicated to this topic of MedX nurse absenteeism, in fact. The panel, “Where are the nurses?” is moderated by Pamela Ressler, and consists of Perry Gee, Beth Toner, and Terry Fulmer. The panel is slotted for Sunday morning, is set to focus on the philosophy of nursing to help contextualize illness from the nurse’s perspective for this year’s MedX attendees. They are using the hashtag #MedXNurses to track conversation throughout the conference. This form of tracking is a great way to keep information and reactions to the panel categorized within the conference, but it’s also a great way for nurses to track the panel outside of the conference, too. I recently got a chance to talk with fellow Student Leadership Program Advisor, Anna Clemenson, RN, about nursing school itself. Her insights on preceptorship, new nurse graduates, and mentoring student nurses got me thinking about the idea of mentorship outside of school and office walls. With the help of a nurse preceptor acting as the “training wheels” on a bike for the first few weeks as a new nurse graduate, Anna was able to function as an independent nurse while also feeling comfortable enough to ask questions. I would imagine that entering a conference such as MedX as one of few nurses would be intimidating – I know that I was very aware of my “patient” status when I attended last year for the first time. If nurses who currently attend MedX could bring new nurses with them to MedX next year as part of a Nurse Leadership Program just as how Anna and I function within the Student Leadership Program, perhaps the number of nurses in attendance for the future would increase. As far as increasing the attendance of seasoned RNs, I suppose we’ll just have to attend or watch the livestream to find really out from the experts themselves – where are the nurses?

Data and demographics are everything. The current demographics of MedX tell us who is present (patients, providers broadly defined, researchers, and technologists). What we need to be focusing on though, is who are least represented. Considering who is least represented, who is most represented, and why that is tells us something about power. It also tells us something about the importance and role that networking plays, given that this conference provides access to so many people with the same health care interests. Before we can draw any conclusions as to who networking is or isn’t important to, we have to think about the cultures that feed off of networking, and those that maybe do not as much. Technology companies and research partners thrive off of who you know and what you can produce given those connections. Can the same be said for physicians? What about nurses? While we are all brought together at MedX to change healthcare, we still have to consider what drives the world outside of the conference, and think about what motivated people to attend in the first place. Is the lack of nurse presence due to the lack of pressure to network? Regardless of if networking plays a role or not, the presence of nurses, or rather lack thereof, is felt. How might non-nurse MedX attendees gain a better understanding of patient care through the perspective of nurses in health care? How might patient care be defined through the lens of the nurse, as opposed to the patient, physician, or researcher, and what key differences in training or experience could that reveal? I’m looking forward to finding out.


Image description: Woman who has black hair, bands, and a bob haircut is wearing a white lab coat and is holding and feeding a baby with short black hair. Diagonal sign across the image reads: nurses save. Photo courtesy of Susannah Fox.


Disclosure: This post is one of several as a part of the Stanford Medicine X ePatient Scholar Program – Engagement Track, for which I receive financial support for travel, lodging, and registration fees for this conference. The views expressed in this post are my own.

Four years later

My awake-craniotomy took place 4 years ago today. Things that would have been long-term goals 4 years ago are now just things on my to-do list for this month. Things that I never thought I’d see happen are now daily occurrences, in the best way possible. I got better, but not everyone does. I had a great support system, the financial resources to weigh my options and select my surgeon, and the time to do so. My latest MRI was last month, and everything is still stable. Even so, every day is a tightrope walk of accounting for sleep, taking medication, and managing symptoms. My life wouldn’t be anything like it is now if it wasn’t for this patient experience, and I wouldn’t change it.

Community engagement has always been how I’ve processed. We’re talking about the financial impact of being treated for a brain tumor during tonight’s #btsm chat (6pm PST/9pm EST) – all are welcome to join, share, and learn.

Here’s a video of me giving an update four days after surgery, four years ago for a fun flashback.

What Liz means to me

Liz has taught me everything without purposefully meaning to teach me anything. She has taught me how to advocate for myself in a powerful way – by simply, being myself. She has also taught me about science and policy, about clinical trials and chemo parity in the process. She is the person I would have wanted to be friends with in college but would have been too busy studying to meet.

We pull each other up and propel each other forward in everything that we do. She thinks of the little details that make all the difference (Harvey Milk postage stamps). We talk about when we die. We talk about what that might mean – for ourselves, for our friends, for our families and for our partners. We wonder together. We wonder about science, about research, and about protein powder. She calls me out when I take screen shots during our Google Hangout sessions. Whether she knows it or not, she is an anchor in my life. She learns about other communities and educates her co-workers for me – she’s a full-time ally. Her web design skills are incredible. She’s my friend, my cool aunt, my mentor, and my role model all wrapped into one. She believes in and she understands me. She hates how I text in sentences and hit send each time instead of sending paragraphs with all of my thoughts at once. She believes in me, and she has since 2012 (check out these throwback tweets):

liz 1

I was commenting on a post explaining how the brain tumor community has very few leaders, and was in the middle of making the point of how when Liz dies, our community will suffer a huge loss. But I stopped in the middle of my thought pattern. What will I do when Liz dies? It hit me. What do you do when someone who pretty much means everything to you without even meaning to is gone? We don’t talk every day or even necessarily every week, but we are connected. We just know what is going on with one another because we are a part of one another, because we have lived parts of each other’s lives. I don’t have an answer to that question yet, and I hope that I won’t need to have an answer for it any time soon.

I’ve talked Liz through a simple-partial seizure over the phone before. It happened about a month ago, actually. We were both extremely excited and talking about how great a phone call had gone between one of her co-workers and I, and the extreme excitement literally gave her a seizure. She started describing it to me and instead of listening I started talking to her about the homemade lasagna I was eating. I asked the right questions, made sure that she didn’t drive, etc., but talked to her about lasagna instead of the seizure. That was my way of helping. Liz was alone and didn’t have any of the medication that she needed with her, so I told her about my lasagna until someone else arrived to try and distract her. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to ever eat lasagna again now. Then, a few weeks ago, I had a seizure at the gym. Naturally, I texted Liz about how weird it was that we had both had gym-seizures. That’s just what we do. We have gym-seizures and we tell each other about them. It’s just another day in our lives, I guess.

Liz helped me realize that it was going to be ok when it wasn’t. When we first met in person in March of 2015 it was like seeing an old friend for dinner. Because that’s what it was, really. We had talked on Twitter, texted, and Skyped for three years at that point. We got dinner while she was in town for spring training with her husband Brett. She designed the #BTSM Chat logo with the orange theme color because she loves the San Francisco Giants, and even though orange is my least favorite color, I signed off on it. I hate baseball, but Liz loves it. Liz was in a punk rock band in college, and that’s, well, that last thing that I would ever do. We are so different and yet we are so much the same. We just get each other.


Charlie Blotner (age 21, present day) and Liz Salmi (age 18, 1997), pictured making the same tilted head pose, wearing blue and green collared shirts in the closest dated photo that Charlie could find

Relationships like these form once in a lifetime.

Happy birthday, Liz.

Celebrating Our Cancer Hashtag Communities and Moonshot (June 27-July 4, 2016)

The cancer hashtag community stars are aligning.

This coming week, the online cancer hashtag communities will be celebrating. Why, you ask? We have two good reasons.

  1. The Cancer Moonshot Summit happens Wednesday, June 29, 2016, in Washington, D.C. and in satellite locations all over the United States (see DC agenda at bottom of this post). While several members of the cancer hashtag community will be attending, we all have the opportunity to provide input to the Cancer Moonshot (deadline July 1, 2016).
  2.  The 5th Anniversary of the beginning of Breast Cancer Social Media (#BCSM)—and the beginning of cancer hashtag communities on the web—happens July 4th!

Our celebration will take the form of several coordinated chats open to everyone, regardless of cancer type.

Monday, 6/27:
#BCSM Chat (use both #BCSM and #cancerchat hashtags) will host a cross-cancer chat at 9 PM Eastern Time about three of the Cancer Moonshot Working Group topics (check blog on #BCSM website for chat details):
–Expanding Clinical Trials
–Enhanced Data Sharing
–Precision Prevention and Early Detection
Ideas generated can be >>>> submitted online to the Cancer Moonshot. <<<<

Wednesday, 6/29:
Cancer Moonshot events in DC and satellite locations (see agenda for DC Summit below)

Wednesday, 6/29:
#HCChat will conduct official Moonshot chat (use both #HCChat and #Moonshot hashtags) at noon Eastern Time on the topic “Will the Moonshot lead to the death of cancer?” This chat applies to all types of cancers. Special guest will be Vincent T. DeVita, Jr, MD, who was head of the NCI during Nixon’s Cancer Act and author of “The Death of Cancer.”

Thursday, 6/30:
#LCSM Chat (use both #LCSM and #cancerchat hashtags) will host a cross-cancer chat at 8 PM Eastern Time about the remaining four Cancer Moonshot Working Group topics (check blog on #LCSM Chat website for chat details):
–Cancer Immunology and Prevention
–Tumor Evolution and Progression
–Implementation Sciences
–Pediatric Cancer
Ideas generated can be >>>> submitted online to the Cancer Moonshot. <<<<

Thursday, 6/30:
**Last day to submit Moonshot ideas at**

Sunday, 7/03:
Our #BTSM Chat (use both #BTSM and #cancerchat hashtags) will host a cross-cancer chat at 9 PM Eastern Time about our hopes and dreams for cancer research and treatment in the future. This is a great way to wrap up the previous week’s chats about Moonshot ideas.

Monday, 7/04:
This is the 5th anniversary of #BCSM and cancer hashtag communities. This is truly a historic event. None of the other cancer hashtag communities would be here if it weren’t for #BCSM. I know that I, personally, owe #BCSM so much for guiding the path to my own personal healing.

The #BCSM anniversary celebration chat at 9 PM Eastern (use both #BCSM and #cancerchat hashtags)

The cancer hashtag communities hope you’ll join us for some (or ALL) of these special events and help us celebrate! To learn more about the cancer hashtag communities, visit




Semester 6 + Summer Update

As usual, I was hyper focused on school this semester. Everything worked out well in that department, and the semester wrapped up with a 4.05 GPA, bumping my overall GPA up to a 3.97. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – academics have become my arena for competition now that I no longer compete in sports. Scoring high on an exam, setting a curve, or receiving praise from an instructor is my way of winning tournaments or being seeded at the top of a bracket. I haven’t lost my competitive nature, I’ve just channeled it elsewhere post-sport era.

I had the opportunity to take several courses relating to healthcare administration this semester, which were a blast. It was within these courses that my interests in research were highlighted even more so than ever before. I’ve also spent more time exercising this semester than I have in the past several years, and while I am (DEFINITELY) not the strongest person in the gym, I take pride in marking off the number of days that I work out each week in my calendar.

I may not play tennis or do the same things that I used to do before my surgeries, but I can still do so many things, and that’s important for me to realize. While part of life after all of my medical experiences is adjusting to the medications, need for extra sleep, and increased interest in brain tumor research, it’s also remembering that not everything is different. Many things are still the same. I’m still figuring my life out just like any other college student. And, the best part is that my concerns and dreams are starting to expand out even further past three or five years to ten years and beyond. I never would have thought that having concerns about the future would be a good thing, but when you used to spend every waking moment worrying about if you’re going to be alive next week, being able to worry about where you’re going to be living in 10 years is a strangely nice worry to have. My next MRI scan is in August, I’m starting to feel like everything in my life has hit a stride that makes sense. The only thing that could really go wrong in it right now is another brain tumor popping up, and, I’m really not planning on that happening!

I am spending my summer in the Child Development Lab here on campus and in the Child Life department at the children’s hospital I was at last summer, as well as continuing to conduct interviews for and work on writing my thesis. It has been incredible to hear families tell me their stories and have them open up to me in the ways that they have. What parents have said is what has stuck with me the most, though. I think that this may be because as much as I have asked my parents what it was like for them during the worst of my surgeries, testing, etc., they couldn’t have truly opened up to me because they were still trying to protect me. The parents that I’m interviewing have no reason to omit information and protect me from anything, though. I think back on when my dad first took the bandage off of my head after surgery and how he told me that it didn’t look “that bad,” and how I believed him. He went on to tell me months later that it looked absolutely horrifying, and how my mom almost threw up it was so bad. In that moment and upon first sight, my dad just wanted me to know that even though I had just had a life-altering and major surgery, something as irrelevant to my future as a scar was the last thing I needed to be worried about.

I’m also writing personal statements and applying to graduate schools where I’m hoping to pursue a master’s in social work with a health specialization. I have another exciting opportunity involving writing, research, community building, precision medicine and cancer care, but I can’t say what it is quite yet!

MedX Phoenix Pop Up

It happened. The first ever Stanford Medicine X Phoenix Pop Up took place on April 16th, 2016. SHOW TIME graphic!We were lucky enough to have Executive Board Member Gilles Frydman travel to join us and deliver the opening remarks, as well as document all that took place through his camera lens.

While we weren’t able to share a link to the livestream due to technical difficulties, we had some recording help from ARKHumanity, and two of the talks were recorded and are linked to later in this post below.

We were fortunate enough to have incredible exhibitors from around the valley join us, each of which brought displays that attendees were able to interact with. These displays not only started conversations, but allowed for attendees to ask ourselves and each other questions prior to the evening’s talks like: What if this were me? What if this were my child? Do I need this service?Screen Shot 2016-05-03 at 12.21.35 AM

The program kicked off with Danielle Edges sharing her family’s story that answered those very questions as she told us about her daughter’s reality of navigating life with Heterotaxy Syndrome. Her words and photos shook us all to the core as she read her letter titled, “Dear Heterotaxy.”

Pat Pataranutaporn shared his reason for being a part of the ARKHumanity team, a project derived from Hack4Humanity that bridges the gap between people in crisis and mental health professionals. ARKHumanity utilizes algorithms and key word filtering to listen for suicidal messages within public data on Twitter, and triages to create an outreach interface. Prior to the creation of ARKHumanity, a call for help on social media might go unanswered. Now, that call for help will be answered and can utilize proactive outreach to prevent suicide. They recently collaborated with Arizona State University and Teen Lifeline to conduct research that yielded the findings of 2.6 million tweets that matched suicidal keywords in two weeks time. Wow.

Omron Blauo gave us insight into the work he’s doing in Ghana with Telescrypts, which seeks to bridge health access gaps in remote, low resource communities by providing healthcare workers with data storage tools that innovate their current examination system. In order to do this, Blauo and his team created a durable and long lasting wearable device that records pulse, heart rate, temperature, respirations, and oxygen saturations all of which synch to an app and secure platform on a mobile device, collecting data stored in a cloud without needing wifi. This use of telemedicine pays close attention to cultural and environmental needs, something that wearable devices related to healthcare often do not.

Richard Filley spoke on the topics of doctors, drones and disruption in healthcare. He made connections between aviation and healthcare, and brought up barriers to disruption like regulation from the FAA and the FDA – the ideas of those from outside the profession. These barriers and ideas ultimately got the audience to ask ourselves: When is healthcare’s drone going to land?

Stacey Lihn delivered the keynote and shared her experience as a mom and advocate, as well as founding and being the President of Sisters by Heart, a volunteer organization that provides support, education, and empowerment to families affected by Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome from initial diagnosis and beyond by connecting moms across the country. Lihn taught us how moms are literally and figuratively sitting at the table to improve patient outcomes. She also reminded us that not all care centers are created equal, and that if we want to see improvements in patient care, oftentimes we, the patients and caregivers, are the ones who need to do something to make that change. Because of Lihn’s work as the National Pediatric Cardiology Quality Improvement Collaborative (NPC-QIC) Parent Lead, NPC-QIC Transparency Workgroup Co-Lead, and NPC-QIC Mortality Workgroup Member, Sisters by Heart is partnered with NPC-QIC to decrease mortality and improve quality of life for infants with single ventricle congenital heart disease and their families. Lihn also serves as a Public Member of the American Board of Pediatrics Foundation, and this level of parent and caregiver engagement is not to be taken lightly.

The closing panel, which consisted of Stacey Lihn, Richard Filley, and Ram Polur had varying perspective that included the caregiver, entrepreneur, and technologist viewpoints. Asking them questions as the moderator was interesting because each of their experiences led to clear expectations for healthcare settings and interactions amongst patients and providers related to trust, respect, and communication.

My personal highlight of the night was getting to learn about the Cardiac 3D Print Lab at the Phoenix Children’s Hospital (PCH). Each heart takes between 3 hours (small) and 5 hours (big) to print. The Cardiac 3D Print Lab teams up with a group called Heart Effect for Screen Shot 2016-05-02 at 7.58.44 PMeducation and emotional support purposes with families after the models have been printed to prepare them for their upcoming surgeries. They also told me how the 3D print lab over at PCH is working with Child Life and the brain tumor patients to print replicas of their brain tumors so that the kids can work through their emotions during treatment. Some kids throw their tumors off of the hospital roof, others smash it with a hammer, and some, similar to our MedX friend Steven Keating, keep theirs!

As soon as the event was over attendees started asking when the next pop up was taking place, if it was going to become an annual event, etc. This event would not have been possible without the help of Danielle on the ground, and the MedX team in Palo Alto. I knew that it was possible to bring a taste of MedX to local communities through having watched livestreams of previous MedX pop ups, but now I have a whole new appreciation for the work that goes into it. If you enjoyed this pop up, you haven’t seen anything yet. Nothing can truly prepare you for the conference itself. For those of you who had your first MedX exposure through this event..I know you want more. See you in September!