We have a hair dryer at home that cannot be run on its highest heat setting, otherwise it overheats in a few minutes and shuts down.  After that, you cannot turn it on again until it's cooled down sufficiently.

A lot of electronics function this way, as do nuclear plants, steam turbines, and a variety of other devices that tend to break or explode if they get too hot, spin too fast, or build up too much pressure.  In most cases, this helps prevent damage to the device, to nearby people, and to the environment.

Well, add me to the list of things with a safety switch.

For some time, my irritability has been increasing, my patience has been decreasing, and my mood seems to swing with my treatment schedule.

About two weeks ago, I reached my threshold for dealing with multiple myeloma.  I've been dealing with it for almost a year and a half, and I think I got to the overload point and needed to shut down for a while (which is probably good, since I hate to think what would have happened to me, people around me, or the environ­ment if I had exploded).

Aside from one or two postings in the Beacon forums, I've done practically nothing myeloma related for the past two weeks.

I haven't followed ASCO 2012, done my normal reading or research, visited the various myeloma sites or blogs I normally do, or even updated my own blog.  On the occasions my cancer came up in conversation with friends and family, I quickly steered the conversation in other directions.

Perhaps some of this can be attributed to the nice weather, biking a lot more, and being busy at work.  However, the bottom line is I just didn't feel like dealing with anything related to multiple myeloma; the sense of apathy that came over me was almost tangible.

I think most of us can attest to the shock and chaos that accompanies our initial diagnosis.  We have to deal with the devastating news we've received, while at the same time going from one appointment to another, getting jabbed, prodded, poked, and x-rayed, while also just trying to figure out what multiple myeloma is and then having to make decisions for treatment.

For me, that period lasted about two to three months.  Life settled down a bit after that, but it was still centered around my disease, and time seemed to be measured in terms of how many days since, or how many days until, my next treatment.

I received a very good piece of advice in response to one of my previous columns in which someone recommended I set aside a dedicated time each day to deal with my cancer, then keep the rest of the day cancer-free.  By and large, that advice has worked exceptionally well for me.  However, for 18 months, I have still focused on it every day in some way or another.

Isn't this in some ways the definition of an obsession?

Granted there's a lot I can't change and can't avoid and consequently have to deal with on a regular basis.  But what about all the time when I have a choice?  How healthy is it to choose to focus on it day in and day out?

I think two weeks ago I discovered it's not so healthy for me and I need to take a break now and then – for my own benefit and for those around me.  I am definitely in better spirits now.

Peace, and live for a cure.