This week marks an important milestone along my multiple myeloma journey. It has now been five years since I was first diagnosed.

Five years! Not bad, considering the median life expectancy at the time was less than four.

But that only sets the stage for the topic of my column this month.

Several days ago, a “myeloma friend” and I got together to watch a spring training baseball game. What a beautiful setting along Florida's Gulf Coast! The Toronto Blue Jays were playing the Minnesota Twins. We had great seats just behind the Twins' dugout. It was warm and sunny. The perfect way to forget about having cancer.

But on the drive home, my friend asked this question: What would I do if I didn't have multiple myeloma?

A thought-provoking question that definitely snapped the idyllic mood. But as I began to ponder the possibilities, I soon realized that after five years, I almost don't remember what it's like to have a “normal” life.

For most of the past five years, I have been battling bone pain, side effects caused by continual chemotherapy – including a pulmonary embolism and chronically low blood and platelet counts – weekly doctors visits, tests, surgeries, a secondary cancer most likely caused by a compromised immune system and a stem cell transplant.

Oh my God! Multiple myeloma is my life! And that doesn't even take into account the fact that every day I spend much of my “free time” writing about multiple myeloma...

But to not even be able to remember what it's like to not have cancer is a stunning admission for me.

Things became a bit hushed at that moment driving home. Honestly, I almost cried.

Why did I get so emotional about this? What's the big deal? After all, the fact that I have multiple myeloma isn't exactly news by now.

But I suddenly realized that I have used selective amnesia over the years to protect myself and to make me feel better. Because the loss here is immeasurable. It's incalculable.

To think that an otherwise healthy and active man in his mid 50's is now being forced to slowly watch his life tick away, saddled with so many limitations, would be considered tragic by many.

Yes! However, I believe I have made the most of a bad situation – and I have no regrets.

Emotionally, being able to help others better cope with their loss fills me with a sense of purpose and well-being. Physically, I am able to work around my worsening peripheral neuropathy and chronic fatigue well enough to do some light housework, travel from time to time, and continue to do what I love most –  writing.

But the things I have given up so easily to live this new life – my job; an active life jogging, golfing, and skiing; working long, but rewarding hours around the house and in the yard – it's all gone, and I will never get it back.

So what would I do if my multiple myeloma was instantly gone? If I were in a long-lasting remission like survivors with so many other types of cancer? Or if I had never even had cancer at all?

I could still work full-time. I could recreate and be active again. I could hike the rain forests of the Pacific Northwest. Shovel snow. Coach and play basketball again – or maybe tennis. I could travel to Europe. Donate blood. Maybe adopt a child...

Yes, the loss is incalculable. But I'm a “glass half full” kind of guy. I still have so much to be thankful for.

Even so, forgive me if I take a few moments now and again to mourn the loss of my former life – and to try to remember what it would be like if I didn't have multiple myeloma.

Feel good and keep smiling!