Wednesday, April 6, 2016

62 Months: Looking behind, looking ahead

I woke up this morning feeling pretty good about things. I had my usual cocktail of 20 pills with my breakfast. I happened to tune in to NBC's "Today" Show. The hosts were interviewing a woman named Jennifer Rothschild.

Jennifer went totally blind at the age of 15. That meant she suffered a loss beyond comprehension. To be born blind is bad enough, but to have her vision taken away must have been devastating. To be able to see, and then be unable to see was like dealing with a thief in the night. But this lady isn't allowing her blindness define her. She's authored eleven books in the years since, and she's a motivational speaker who is showing the world that the human spirit can overcome nearly any obstacle.

I wish I had the talent to be a motivational speaker. I would shout to the world that cancer doesn't have to be a death sentence. Nor does it have to be something that defines you. I was quite fortunate to meet up with all the right doctors at all the right times. We took a big chance with the clinical trial that I was a part of. We basically threw the atom bomb at the cancer, and so far, so good.

The treatment didn't come without cost. I'm stuck with peripheral neuropathy. Or as some call it, Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. It's like standing in a pile of hot coals. But I still consider it a small price to pay for the life I'm leading. I have my wife, my kids, my family, and my cherished friends all supporting me. So I grin and bear it.

I think of the day that I was given the prognosis: 2, 2 1/2 years at best. That was August 2012. The funny thing was, I was diagnosed on July 13th, 2012. It was a Friday the 13th! But here it is, 2016, and I'm still here. It has to be the love and support, plus the positive attitude I was able to maintain thanks to the medical support, the family support and the love and encouragement from my friends.

Looking ahead, I'm holding out hope for a long remission. There's no cure for this cancer (Multiple Myeloma) and the blog I write it titled 62 Months because that was the prognosis for the typical Myeloma patient, according to the American Cancer Society database.

I want to do something to help others who've been diagnosed with cancer. As I said, I'm not much of a public speaker, but I'd love to hear any suggestions you might have if you happen to read this.

Love you all.