In October I am turning 50. I've been pretty excited about it. 50...no big deal. Now I am excited for the birthday, but for another reason, that's when I'll be winding down on chemo. Now that's a reason to celebrate. I always figured I'd live till about 90 or so. There's a pattern of people in my family living a long time. And I suppose that is what trips me about my diagnosis. Even with complete remission, multiple myeloma is the type of cancer that will likely show up again. Frankly, hitting 90 for me isn't a sure thing. But that's fine.
What's weird is that about a month and a half ago, pre-diagnosis, I was in Vegas. I met my friends John and Doreen there, as well as a few other people. I knew I wasn't feeling right, but I went anyway, cause I really wanted see J & D. I've known them since I was 20 and they are the best unconditional friends a person could ask for. I did let several years go by where I didn't talk to them. I blame myself and me being a dickhead. Sorry guys. I guess that is the plus of my cancer, I can use it as an opportunity to be the best person I can be. ( I said it was time to get deep). Anyhow, while in Vegas, I felt like crap. I got the worst chills and fever and went to my room at 7 pm on a Saturday night. Didn't make a single sports bet. The next morning I got up early and was meeting John for breakfast. People were concerned and wanted to know what was up with me. Walking through the casino to meet John, I had this oddly powerful feeling that something was really wrong with me and perhaps I was dying. Scared the crap out of me. I didn't tell John about this feeling, but did let him know I was going through testing to get to the bottom of my health issue. The diagnosis came a couple of weeks later.
The point of all this? The point is..fuck that, I am not dying. I am super happy about the meeting with the kidney doctor, and it's reinvigorated me to kick up the fight a notch. And that's my story. Thank you everyone. This is a team effort.