Letters From Cancerland: Unplugged
I once read an article in which the author described her habit of working herself into an illness requiring hospitalization about every two years. She did this routinely until a doctor finally pointed out to her that scheduling a vacation every so often would be a more cost-effective, healthier practice. The author, who had been eschewing vacations as a waste of time, became a convert.
I read that article decades ago. I read it back in the pre-computer, pre-cell phone, pre-tablet, pre-plugged in 24/7/365 era. Today, a similar article would have to start with the precept, “disconnect.” While I agreed with the author’s conclusion, I too have been guilty of not taking time for myself but instead pushing myself to the point of dropping.
Not this year. The first week of September, I took an unplugged, “health first” vacation. It was made possible by the generous loan of an ocean cottage by a very good friend and an unexpected opening in my husband's too tight schedule. A last-minute medical crisis of a family member managed to resolve to the point I felt I could leave town without worrying too much. So the first day of September, we were on the road to Cape Hatteras, North Carolina.
Living with myeloma, I never forget the reality of having a chronic, terminal cancer. Every time something new and different emerges (the latest being veins that spontaneously break), I flinch. I try to spend my days not dwelling on it, but the truth is that myeloma is never far from my mind.
But for the vacation, it was, at least much of the time. There is a timeless quality to the ocean, an eternal pattern in the waves. Sitting on the beach and watching them roll in, I could shove myeloma to the far corner of my mind.
To my surprise, my awareness of the cancer was strongest the first time we walked up over the dune and dropped down onto the shore. I stood for the longest time just watching the waves, closing my eyes to listen to the surf. Then I turned to my husband.
“I didn’t realize until just now how much I was afraid I would never see the ocean again,” I told him, my voice hoarse with emotion. I sensed a weight lifting from me as I took in the sounds, the smells, the sights. I stored them up greedily, hoarding them for when the surf is too faint and distant to sense.
Prior to our leaving on the trip, my husband asked me what I wanted to do while we were on vacation. My answer came quickly.
“Sit on the beach, listen to the waves, and do nothing.”
Okay, we did a little more than that. We toured Monticello en route to the ocean, and we ventured away from the cottage a few other times as well. And we did watch some old movies (old, old movies: “Giant” (1956) was the newest of the lot) on television. But a lot of the vacation was spent reading and resting and watching the waves.
The great naturalist Henry David Thoreau wrote, “[a] man may stand [at the shore] and put all America behind him.” He was writing of Cape Cod, which he walked the length of more than once in his lifetime. I was considerably farther south, but my sentiments were one with Thoreau’s.
On Cape Hatteras, I could stand facing the ocean and put all America, as well as all of my myeloma, behind me.
And I did.
April Nelson 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 for The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
What a wonderful place to escape too. Spend many great vacations on Cape Hatteras..
That's right April. Just enjoy life. One can't dwell on what may happen.
I didn't think multiple myeloma was terminal disease. I thought it was just chronic but not curable?
Please clarify
Mark
Thanks for the beautiful column...am glad to hear that the both of you had a great week at the ocean. Hope you can do that more often, too! Liked the quote too!
So glad you had a wonderful beach experience. My hubby, a 6 yr. mm patient, and I got away for a rare beach excursion earlier this year. Unfortunately, he was uncomfortable most of the time. I recharged as best I could, my heart a little sad that he wasn't sharing my love affair with the ocean and sand and enthralling sunsets.
What an inspiring article April. I know where you ae coming from in regards to the therapeutic effect of the ocean.We have a holiday house at a wonderful historical fishing town that also has three beautiful beaches. When we are down at Port Fairy,(Victoria, Australia), I take a swim every morning,come hail or shine,be it summer or winter. This swim certainly makes me feel alive, no matter how my MM is at the time and sets me up for an energetic day,usually. Walking our dog along the beach in the evenings and watching the surf, birds and changing sky gives me a real sense of thinking how lucky I have been in even being able to experience these beauties and therefore not being worried about what MM has in store for me. I am on Revlimid after all other treatments have either failed or have given in to MM over the past 4 years. P.s. We are now in the process of shifting to Port Fairy permanently!!
So glad you got the time to slow down and enjoy the moment. Many more wishes for many more unplugged weeks listening to the waves and sounds of the ocean. We also find the water very therapeutic and rejuvenating for my hubby who has MM. Best wishes.
Hello April, come try doing the same on the Oregon coast! Often the time stands still as my wife and I watch the mesmerizing waves. Technology is great, but we should be its masters, not the other way around. Leaving it all behind, especially in the wilderness, can be so healing. Psychoneuroimmunology, the basis of mind body medicine, is proven to be the mechanism of the mind-body connection. We can all utilize its healing potential to increase the quality, and possibly quantity, of our lives. It is much easier to do off grid, don't you think? Best wishes, Jan
April,
Your column was an easy read, touching the mind of any of us with MM. Your message is true and should settle on our hearts and minds that it is so important to stay in the moment, realizing the beauty that is around us, either at the beach or at home in our loved ones, and enjoying every facet. Being smart about MM is a true and right focus but worrying what MM may or may not accomplish within us is never profitable. Hopefully we learn to not waste time there. Thanks again for reminding us to appreciate what we have and enjoy every moment we have therein.
April, I love your columns. You have a big way of thinking about things. This was an excellent reminder that we all (Myeloma or not) need to pull back and take time to live in the moment. Hard to do. Thanks.
April, thanks for the article and the EXTREMELY important reminder.
Yep, Mark, and everyone else for that matter...MM is still a terminal illness at this writing...and often we MM patients find that we need to remind ourselves.... and those close to us.... of that very sad fact.
Of course, we patients need to understand, and remember, that contemplating a terminal illness is not a pleasant thing to do for those who love and care about us...they don't like the pain of those thoughts any more than we do. So they tend to put it out of mind when they can...often to the point that they may say they don't have time to “get away” with us this year....maybe next year they say...and so on.
But you all know that we don't know what next year will bring us....those of us with this nasty disease. So if we have the "health" now and the means...then we need to find the time to take those opportunities to do those things that we NEED to do....like go to the beach, or visit with old friends, attend a concert of that performer you always wanted to see....or just maybe sit in the grass and feel the sun on your face with every ounce of your own gratefulness shining right back.
We need to remember that not only must we FIND the time, but we must TAKE the time to do those things that we can ill afford to put off to a distant tomorrow....for as we all know, our tomorrows our dwindling faster than we and our loved ones care to think about....yet we must....we must remind ourselves and those we care about that lost time, and therefore lost opportunities, will always be just that...lost.
So, my fellow MMers....to borrow from a well-known poem:
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may".
That's right my friends, while we may!!
I can relate. My wife and I took our first real vacation since I was diagnosed almost three years ago. Spent almost two weeks in San Francisco, Yosemite, and Sequoia. After climbing one of the trails in Yosemite and sitting next to a waterfall looking out over the valley, I felt much like you did looking out over the ocean. Make sure you and your hubby continue to take the time to enjoy such opportunities.
Thank you all for your comments and your encouragement. I'm slow in responding: I just got Aunt Ginger (the aforementioned family member who had a medical crisis) back home after 1 weeks in the hospital and 3 weeks in rehab/convalescent care. I am her primary caretaker (she's 84, no children) and it has been a whirlwind. Now that she is back in her comfort zone, I can follow my own advice and unplug even if it is not to the sound of waves. (Jan--I've been to Cannon Beach many a time!) Steve, thanks for addressing the issue of mortality that Mark raised. Great response.
Progress toward fundraising goal
for all of 2020:
15%
For more information, see the Beacon's
"2020 Fundraising: Goals And Updates" page