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Sean’s Burgundy Thread: A Letter To Myself

By: Sean Murray; Published: October 2, 2012 @ 10:56 am | Comments Disabled

I have to admit that I am not exactly an expert on the science of multiple myeloma.

One area that I do have some expertise in, however, is what I have ‘felt’ during my intense, four-year battle royale waged between medical science, myeloma, and me.

As a natural born daydreamer, I recently imagined what it would be like if I could magically send a note back to the newly diagnosed Sean Murray of four years ago. Knowing that I was largely ignorant of multiple myeloma and grossly unaware of what was about to hit me, what would my letter say? Perhaps it would look something like this:

Dear Sean:

Yikes! What in the heck were you thinking? Multiple myeloma! Really? Couldn’t you have saved us all a lot of trouble by entertaining something like chronic male pattern baldness or a nasty addiction to knuckle cracking?

Anyway, I’m sure that it’s not your fault that you have contracted myeloma. Pretty sure, anyway.  Mom did tell you to stop chewing on those No. 2 pencils. Time will tell, I suppose.

I know that you are in a state of shock because of this mysterious diagnosis, so I want to share some important tips with you that might make your upcoming trek through Myelomaville a bit easier. And I know what you’re thinking. Jimmy Buffet didn’t coax me into using the word Myelomaville, though he says to remind you that ‘we are party people and things will get better.’

Now understand that I am not some wacky soothsayer doling out supposition. Experience has been my teacher. I have learned these things I am sharing with you by putting on the gloves, deliberately climbing into the ring, and duking it out against myeloma day after exhausting day.  I will say that myeloma is a dirty fighter. You’ve been warned.

No doubt there are a lot more than these ten things that I could impart, but this list will get us started. Now pay attention. And put that pencil down!

1. Breath:  Make a habit of taking deep, calming breaths.  Yes, I know that you have been breathing for years, and yes, I know that you have painful broken ribs and fractured vertebrae, but focus on drawing those deep, purposeful breaths anyway.  No excuses! You will be astounded at the benefits of this simple practice. MRIs and PET scans will be easier. Sleep will come faster. Your concentration will improve. Your ultimate goal is to string a bunch of those breaths together for a very long time. Say 30 or 40 more years. Keep doing your part, and Mr. Hemoglobin will do his.

2. Change:  While it appears that the sky has come crashing down on top of you, there’s no need to rant and rave like Chicken Little. Believe it or not, your world isn’t ending. What is actually happening to you is much more akin to ‘change’ than anything else.  You have often counseled others that ‘change is inevitable.’ Practice what you preach – put your myeloma where your mouth is. Keep moving forward. Be flexible. Go with the flow. Manage and live with these ongoing changes as best as you can.

3. Grieve:  As you undergo treatment and actively engage myeloma, you will see many things that you enjoy doing diminish or disappear from your daily life.  Briefly lament the loss of the familiar, if you must, and then get on with it. Hear this, being stuck in a depressing morass is not very becoming on you, nor is it productive. You will eventually feel better. Your favorite pursuits, in some form or fashion will return. The bass will still bite when you get back to the lake, the stars will shine when you choose to look up again, and food will once again taste like, well, food. Give yourself some time.

4. Pain:  I wish that I could assure you that your experience with myeloma will be absent of pain. Friend, you will know significant pain. But you can handle it. Thanks to surgeries, targeted pain medications, and chemotherapy, your pain will largely be controlled and tolerable. Follow your doctor’s orders, be a patient patient, and you will not drown in the pain of broken bones and tangled nerves that envelope you right now.  It will get better. I promise.

5. Fears:  You know that weird, irrational fear that always rises when some well-meaning medico approaches you with a needle? The one where the walls start closing in, your skin grows clammy, sweat floods your brow, and you feel like passing out? That one. Unfortunately, blood cancers have lots of blood tests, and thus, lots of needles.  Do this: Just before you walk into that lab the next time, say a prayer that you will never again be afraid when your blood is taken or when you get a shot. Trust me on this, it will work.  You will conquer your fears.

6. Alone:  The tremendous weight that you feel on your shoulders right now will not be your burden alone. Many caring people, some veritable strangers, will step up to share your load. It may take time for you and them to understand their role in your illness, but they will be there for you.  Learn to let them help. And prepare to be amazed at the courage, strength, and camaraderie of your fellow myeloma patients and their caregivers. They will teach you many lessons. You will not be alone.

7. Friends:  In your illness, you will discover the wonderful depth and breadth of the love and affection that your true friends have for you and for your family. They often times won’t know how to help you with myeloma specifically, but that’s okay. The beauty of their friendship and the closeness of their companionship will prove to be a source of immense comfort.  Do not shut your friends out.

8. The Pros:  You are about to meet some brilliant, dedicated, selfless people serving on your medical team. You will be fascinated by their talent, their skill, and their dedication to making your life better. That’s what they do.  Hold them to a high standard, you are worth it.

9. The Girls:  Face it – you married ‘up,’ as your friends would say. Know that Karen will lovingly, steadfastly, almost fearlessly, honor her vows to love you in sickness and in health.  I say ‘almost fearlessly’ because you need to know that she will be, at times, beside herself with a fear that she will try to hide from you. She will, above all, be afraid that she will lose you. Understand her struggle and do your very best to take care of her.

When you adopted those two beautiful girls from orphanages in China, could you have imagined how important they would be to you?  For them, never give up.

10. Believe:  After all of those years of reading, praying, and talking about your beliefs, now’s the time to put your faith into action. Open your eyes, and you will see the hand of God in a multitude of areas of your life, and especially through this illness. There is no weakness in your trust. Many won’t understand this, but your gratitude and faith will grow exponentially as you run this race.  No matter the outcome, all will be well.

There is a lot more that I could write, but this should keep you busy for awhile. Keep laughing, and keep fighting.

Sean

P.S. Make sure you chew on ice before your stem cell transplant; mouth sores stink. And don’t eat that egg salad sandwich from that dining cart downtown; you’ll pay for a week if you do.  And the chemo will make you lose weight; so, punch some holes in your belt, or else they’ll fall down in front of a waiting room full of people at the infusion center. And don’t…

Sean Murray is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist at The Myeloma Beacon.

If you are interested in writing a regular column to be published on The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .


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