On March 6, 2015 my wife and I were at a conference about a 6-hour drive from our home. My wife just completed a presentation and we were standing in a buffet line for lunch. My phone rang and caller I.d. said it was my doctor’s office. I had a routine physical earlier in the week and instinctively I felt this couldn’t be good. I stepped outside to take the call. I don’t remember the details of the call except for the word “cancer” and a referral to a hematologist. I asked my doctor to text the relevant blood test information. I saved the text; “Lab test shows monoclonal gammopathy, possible early multiple myeloma.”
I went back inside and whispered to my wife that I needed to talk to her in private. After I shared the news we made a polite exit and headed home early. Sensing my distraction she drove. I googled “multiple myeloma” and went down a deep dark hole of anxiety and depression. If you are ever in this place, DO NOT GO ON THE INTERNET. No good will come of this doom spiral.
I’ve already described how I dealt with learning about my diagnosis, my prognosis, my treatments, but I haven’t posted for over two years. I realize that could be seen as cause for concern. Actually, it’s because I haven’t had anything to share. I generally limit my posting to conversations about my cancer, my treatment, and living with cancer. Honestly, during the last two plus years I’ve just been busy with life.
My lab results have shown no noticeable cancer for nearly eight years. A bone marrow biopsy in early 2020 found me to be MRD negative (the most precise measurement currently possible). This January another bone marrow biopsy reported the same result. There is presently no evidence of any multiple myeloma cells in my blood. There is also presently no evidence of myeloma impacting my life.
That is probably not true. Ten years ago multiple myeloma became an inextricable part of my life. That will never change.
What has changed is that how I live today very much resembles my life before March 6, 2015. I’m doing the same work, in a different location. I’m much busier. I even added a “part-time” position teaching at a law school. My children are all amazing adults, and more grandchildren have joined our family. I’ve embraced the role of “elder” at work, especially when the “kids” I work with don’t recognize the name of a movie, t.v show or band I reference.
In all honesty, ten years ago I didn’t see this future. When we bought a new mattress just after my diagnosis I laughed at the salesperson that told me it came with a ten-year warranty. I guess it is time to go mattress shopping. I remember car shopping with my wife in late 2015 and wondering if the car payments would be too much if my income were lost. I’m embarrassed to reveal the number of “big ticket” items we’ve purchased or thought about purchasing in the last ten years.
I don’t want to suggest my consumerism as a sign of life. The point is how my diagnosis has taken a back seat to our life moving forward. In 2015 my plans for retirement were over a decade away and seemed impossibly far. I frankly didn’t know if I would survive to retire. My current contract ends in about 18 months and I’m considering if I should renew. The only reason my myeloma is part of the calculation is my strong desire to enjoy my health with my family doing the things I love and not sitting in an office.
When I was diagnosed I sought mental health counseling to deal with my anxiety and depression. I still talk to a professional, but when we talk about my diagnosis it is more about learning to survive. When I was diagnosed I had to deal with mourning the future I thought I lost. Today is partially about survivors guilt and planning to live in the future I thought was taken from me.
On this anniversary of a fateful phone call I give myself a chance to reflect, but only for a minute. I would rather focus on where I am. I am happy. I am thankful. I am living.
Photo Credit: Mark Pouley (2024) – The shore at Seaside, Oregon.
Lens on Myeloma 