One week ago, I celebrated an important milestone: I have survived 43 months with multiple myeloma.

What was so important about 43 months? That was the median life expectancy at the time I was diagnosed.

It is only human nature to immediately ask the question, “Doctor, how long do I have to live?” after you learn you have cancer.

My Mayo Clinic oncologist, Dr. Steven Zeldenrust, was forthright and honest with me when I asked him that question back in the spring of 2007.

Dr. Zeldenrust said that the average Stage II multiple myeloma patient lives 43 months. Undergoing a stem cell transplant wouldn't necessarily extend that number—nothing would.

I didn't realize it at the time, but the prophetic part of my visit that day wasn't learning my life expectancy. After all, I am here writing this column, alive and well, as I enter my 44th month.

No, the important thing about what my oncologist shared with me that day is this: I am an average multiple myeloma survivor.

I wasn't Stage I or Stage III—I was Stage II. My cancer wasn't progressing quickly, but my multiple myeloma had been around for a number of years before it was discovered. I had some bone damage, but my kidneys were still OK. And I was fortunate to not have any of the negative genetic issues that can make multiple myeloma even more difficult to treat.

I wasn't exceptionally lucky—nor was I unusually cursed. But a combination of the novel therapy agent Revlimid ^[1] (lenalidomide), combined with dexamethasone ^[2] (Decadron), was working for me.

Except for the fact that I am ten or fifteen years younger than many of you, I am the average multiple myeloma survivor—and I'm still alive today—even though the life expectancy numbers from less than four years ago say I shouldn't be.

Good news for me? Heck yes! But it is also good news for all of you!

Recent studies are indicating that our life expectancies have increased more than a year or two compared to my initial prognosis. But ongoing studies are likely to show even longer life expectancies.

Barring a serious and unexpected complication or unrelated catastrophic event, I will likely live longer than a year or two. I have yet to try a number of novel therapy agents that are currently available to me. I haven't had a stem cell transplant—but my cells are harvested and on ice, just itching to be used.

There are also newly developed, experimental drugs to try. If those stop working, there are dozens of combination approaches using two, three, or more of these same drugs, which may very well buy me some more time.

One or two more years? No way! I'm starting to think I'm going to be around for a long, long time.

All of which means most of you will be too. And that makes me very, very happy.

Feel good and keep smiling! Pat