Saturday, June 1, 2013

Cancer, what cancer?

What cancer? That's what I'd like to be able to say. June 2 is 25 months since diagnosis. (June already....damn time flies). For the most part, I go about things as if there is no cancer. My numbers say something different. There is still myeloma floating around in my blood. Nonetheless I feel great. I think I'm in great shape.  Today, Saturday, was a normal fun Saturday. Myeloma never once came to mind, other than the handful of pills I took in the morning.

I'm realistic about myeloma and how it never really is gone. But I'd like to pretend it doesn't exist. Generally I can do that. But there is always a little voice buried in my head that reminds me about the myeloma. Oh and there is my chemo treatment coming up this Thursday. Cold slap of reality.

The other day Leslie and I ran into an old co-worker. He asked how I was doing. I said great, back to work, back to normal. He responded with "so it's gone and you're good." My response? "Yep". "All Better" . Usually I tell people I'm doing great but still have work to do. For some reason, how he asked me led me to say "All Better". I don't think Leslie caught this slight nuance in my response. But I think, after 25 months, I get tired of thinking about it and talking about it. All better.

If someone asks if my health allows me to do something,  I say I'm fine and can do whatever. No limits. Mind you, I know how fortunate I am to be where I am at. I feel a bit of guilt when I hear about others who aren't doing so well. At my second chemo treatment, I broke down and asked "why me?" I've gotten beyond that question. As I've written before: Why not me? But now the why question is why I am doing so well. Hard to say. But I am thankful that I am.

This was a blah week for me. Going to work every day felt wrong and I thought I was misplacing my energy. Why waste my energy working and being on the treadmill of life, when I have a life to live. Tricky.

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for your blog, Matt. Like you, I am "all better" with a lingering M-spike. Anyway... I can relate and I appreciate the way you express yourself. Seems like many who have dealt with this disease longer eventually reach an "understanding." Our death and quality of our health is no more or less inevitable than anyone else... it just seems to live closer. Which is real awkward when there is no obvious outward sign. Anyway... again, thanks. Andy

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