A while back I reported how my compromised immune system, reacting to years of chemotherapy, had allowed melanoma (skin cancer) to develop on my left ear. The melanoma was surgically removed on Monday.

But this week’s column isn’t about that.  The surgery went well — although my surgeon did need to remove a larger part of my ear than he originally anticipated.

No, this week’s column is about waiting.

Let me set the scene for you.  I’m lying in pre-op, meeting with an anesthesiologist about my upcoming procedure. 

But I’m not focusing on what he’s saying.  Instead, my thoughts are drifting back to a seemingly insignificant blood draw I had earlier that day.

The results from that “stick” are far more important to me than how my ear would look following surgery, because the results could have a huge impact on my life and my future.

As you may remember, this summer’s autologous stem cell transplant didn't go as planned.  With my multiple myeloma under control and on the ropes, I began the transplant process hopeful that it would chase my myeloma away, pushing it into remission.

Instead, I emerged from the three-month long ordeal worse off ^[1] than I was when I started.

My M-protein number, or M-spike, was a practically non-existent 0.2 before the transplant.  After the transplant, it was rising rapidly, from a 0.5 to 0.6 in a matter of weeks.

My medical oncologist Dr. Malhotra, my myeloma specialist at Moffitt Cancer Center Dr. Alsina, and I decided early last month to try the same chemotherapy combination that had slowly and steadily lowered my M-spike prior to my stem cell transplant.

I would start the combination, called RVD (Revlimid ^[2] (lenalidomide) / Velcade ^[3] (bortezomib) / dexamethasone ^[4] (Decadron)), immediately.

I have been on RVD for four weeks now.  That’s not very long.  But everyone involved agrees we should see some progress if the therapy is going to work.

The results of Monday’s fateful blood draw — the one I couldn’t stop thinking about — will go a long way in telling my future.

What will the number be?  Will it be down, stay the same, or — God forbid — have gone up again?

At this point, all I can do is wait.

Constant waiting and wondering is a familiar experience all multiple myeloma patients and caregivers share.

I call it the purgatory of waiting.

It makes it difficult to concentrate on everyday tasks.  And it makes it difficult to enjoy one’s life and to take things one day at a time.

It makes my ear surgery seem insignificant when compared to a simple, fateful blood draw.

Instead, I’m spending my time thinking about questions like these: Do we stay the course? Or do we add one or more new, assisting drugs like Doxil ^[5] (doxorubicin liposomal) or cyclophosphamide ^[6] (Cytoxan) to the mix?

Or do we scrap the whole thing and try a new, unproven experimental therapy by joining a clinical trial or applying for compassionate use so I can gain access to carfilzomib ^[7] or pomalidomide ^[8]?

Important, life-altering decisions may be ahead of me — but all I can do is wait.

Sound familiar?

Feel good and keep smiling!