Pat’s Cracked Cup: End Of Year Reflections From A Multiple Myeloma Patient
Strings of colored lights brighten the darkness of the season. Last week, a winter solstice full moon ornamented the sky with a radiant glow. I hoped to catch a glimpse of the rare lunar eclipse, but all I could see from my location was a veil of snowy clouds behind tall treetops—no moon glow in sight. And so it is living with multiple myeloma—much is hidden from view, such as abnormal cells and holes in bones.
Soon we mark the start of a new calendar year, the second decade of the millennium. A few years ago, I was in a hospital bed on New Year’s Eve. A couple of kind visitors arrived with a bottle of champagne at the suggestion of my doctor. I enjoyed the festive gesture, though one sip was about all I wanted—the party was over by 9 p.m.
I wasn’t sure what I was really celebrating. My condition was pretty dismal. I returned home the next day with a full agenda of treatment and appointments that appeared to be endless. The possibility of wellness was not yet visible to me.
People use various expressions to describe their cancer experience. Some of these words suggest a defense of life or a need to hold on, such as fight, battle, or war. My initial myeloma experience was more of an ordeal. Around that time, I received a beautiful card of a blooming garden sent by a friend who had recovered from lymphoma just a couple of years earlier. Inside the card was written “Surrender.” Okay, there is no way out and many unknowns—so just stop for awhile.
An ancient Chinese proverb tells us that wisdom begins when we call each thing by its proper name. I prefer to use the word myeloma rather than cancer. Befriending life is shifting the view to whatever strengthens and supports the movement of life toward wholeness. Words such as journey, path, and adventure are names that imply openness and discovery. Positive thinking or wishful thinking is not helpful when there is no room for a range of outcomes. I prefer to see a larger picture where disease or misfortune and wellbeing coexist.
I’ve read that intense feelings give power to the body for healing and apathy is likely the biggest obstacle. Finding wonder and awe gives us power. Look up at the sky. Be curious. The experience of pain and illness may result in loss of energy, financial stability, career, and longevity. I am still unhappy about losing four inches of height!
The experience of pain and illness also leaves us more of who we were. Integrating the new pieces takes time, but there is room for the entire situation. Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn refers to this as “full-catastrophe living.”
I think of my experience with myeloma as a mountain to navigate. Back at sea-level now, I will drink several sips of champagne and toast the New Year and her promise of another 365 days. I will also toast to the possibility of wellbeing for us all. Cheers!
Pat Pendleton is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist at The Myeloma Beacon. You can view a list of her columns here.
If you are interested in writing a regular column to be published on The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
Beautifully said, the invisible disease and the wellness, coexisting. The dichotomy of living well with something so impending & disastous.
The coin that flips one side of how joyful this moment is and then the other side of how fleeting. I wish you many sips of champagne for many years to come. The moon's eclipse was exquisite -- a ruddy orange, darkness, then light again, very big setting over the neighbor's roof when I went out to get the morning papers. Suzanne
Thank you for these wonderful, wise words. I have just posted this to my FB page:
"Words of wisdom from a fellow myeloma patient. I agree with her: I dislike martial metaphors ("my battle against cancer"). I, too, find myself calling it an "adventure"---the path I'm on has had many unforeseen twists and turns, and the way forward is shrouded in mystery. Such is life for every one of us, but some of us have this reality thrust into our faces a little more forcefully than others."
Thank you for sharing -I enjoy your articles very much! My husband (and I) started our "journey" as we call it this summer and I needed a little uplift today-your words were just the therapy I needed. Blessings to you for a wonderful new year.
Wonderful words. It's been 7 years now since I was diagnosed with Myeloma and had to undergo treatment (stemcelltransplant). Since I used to run marathons before I got Myeloma I saw the road to the transplant and the years after that as one big training-period leading to where I am now: no plasma activity in my blood.
Not forgetting the greatest healing-power: my daughter who was born a week after I got home from the stemcelltransplant. So I recognise so much in what you said about intense feelings giving power to the body for healing.
Poetic and profound, Pat! Thank you for sharing—and good luck with your column. With a name like “Pat,” it is guaranteed to be a winner! Happy New Year- Pat
Suzanne--Thanks for sharing your eclipse moment since I missed it.
Appreciate the kind words, Gail and Robert.
Cliff--I like your training analogy!
Thanks Pat.