Letters From Cancerland: One From The Heart
“Oops.”
It wasn’t until the radiology nurse finishing taping down the IV line she had just inserted in my arm that I remembered my husband Warren was sitting in the room with me.
I looked over at Warren. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I just looked away.”
My husband is not comfortable with medical procedures, to put it mildly. But there he was, sitting in the room with me while the nurse prepared me for a bone marrow biopsy.
This past January was the first time I’ve had a bone marrow biopsy where the person waiting for me to come out was my husband and not my dad. It was my husband in the prelim room with me listening to the doctor’s explanation of the procedure, it was my husband sitting in the waiting room, it was my husband standing by my bed in recovery, and it was my husband who carefully drove me home and made sure I ate before I fell asleep.
What a change from when I was first diagnosed some nine plus years ago.
When I was diagnosed with myeloma, I was recently divorced. A new long-distance relationship took what turned out to be a mortal wound when the response to my illness was “I didn’t sign on to be a nurse.”
Ouch. I took that statement to heart. Clearly, my myeloma made me undesirable as half of a pair in a meaningful, loving relationship. I might have close friends, but a long-term, committed partnership was off the table.
So I did it by myself. Don’t get me wrong. I had a supportive family and a circle of close friends who surrounded me and helped me. But at the end of the day, it was just me. I went to my oncologist by myself, I took the meds by myself, I dealt with the myeloma by myself. I woke up at three a.m. by myself wondering if I would live long enough to see my younger son graduate from high school. And that was okay because that’s just the way my life was going to be from there on out.
And then there was Warren.
Warren was a long-time friend, so he knew of the myeloma before we started seeing one another. I was in remission at the time and seeing my oncologist only quarterly. Early on, we had a long, serious discussion about my diagnosis, the prognoses, my close relationship with the oncology world, and death. In short, we discussed my life in Cancerland, because I wanted Warren to know what the road looked like at the time and what it could look like later on.
Warren didn’t flinch.
My remission continued for a long time. My myeloma and I slowly, slowly drifted along. I relapsed for the first time in 2012, requiring me to take Velcade (bortezomib) for five months, but it was not too serious.
My recent relapse, slowly building speed over the fall, has been a little more intense. I have watched Warren watching me, the worry lining his eyes; I have listened to his questions to my oncologist as we discussed treatment with Revlimid (lenalidomide), which I started at the beginning of this month.
It is an entirely different experience to be ill with an actively involved, caring partner. There is someone to sit at the oncology appointment with me, someone to say “let me do that” when the laundry basket gets too heavy, someone to massage my feet when the neuropathy flares, someone to hold me at three a.m. when I wake up and need to talk about dying.
In this month of lacy hearts and cupids, my biggest Valentine is the one who looked away when the IV needle went in, then crossed the room to give me a kiss.
April Nelson is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist at The Myeloma Beacon. You can view a list of her previously published columns here.
If you are interested in writing a regular column for The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
What a sweet and wonderful man! Brought tears to my eyes. Cancer really brings out the worse and the best in a marriage. Takes thru sickness and death to a new level. You saw both. I am so happy you now have the best.
I am finding out just how much my husband loves me.
Warren sounds like a true man in love. Attached is a description of true love penned by the Apostle Paul about 2000 years ago. Is it not great that true love has not changed over time. I wish you and Warren success on the Revlimid, I am doing that myself right now.
"Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous. It does not brag, does not get puffed up, does not behave indecently, does not look for its own interests, does not become provoked. It does not keep account of the injury. It does not rejoice over unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails." (Paul from 1 Corinthians 13:4-8)
Hi April, you are Blessed, it is wonderful to have your spouse by your side through this cancer journey we are on. My husband us such a support to me too.
I have a question for you. I live in Canada and find the bone marrow biopsy so uncomfortable. Do you have a sedative with IV before your procedure?
Diana: I do have a sedative with IV before/during the procedure. I'm not "out," but I could care less what the doctor and staff are doing!
Thank you for sharing April - my husband was like your first husband. I was on my own. He went with me to the onc. once - the day I was diagnosed and never again. I went to all the appointments alone, all the infusions, stem cell collection etc. by myself. He also expected me to carry on as usual at home - laundry, cooking, cleaning. However, as I look back, I now believe that the Lord was preparing me to go it alone. My husband died about 9 months after my diagnosis, 2 months before my transplant. My God, my children and friends had been my rocks and my salvation. I'm so glad that there are Warrens out there and I'm so glad for you that you met yours.
I pray for your good response to the treatments. It gives all of us in Cancerland hope.
April I am dabbing the tears right now, but they are tears of joy. How lucky you and Warren are to have found true love. I also feel blessed as my husband has been with me lock-step for the last 6 years. May the Revlimid put you back into deep remission and may you and Warren have many more years together. I also am married to one who must avert his eyes. I'm always afraid he'll faint.
Thank you for this absolutely beautiful piece, April. To have love, especially in times of peril, is one of the grandest blessings we can know. I pray that you and Warren have many happy years together.
April,
Your piece was absolutely beautiful. No anger at the past or the diagnosis, only a heart of gratitude for a man who lives what it means to love unconditionally. Thank you for sharing your journey with us. I also have a husband who has to look away, but he has been with me for every appointment and through two stem cell transplants. He truly is a gift from the Lord, as is your Warren!
My husband is like Joyce's was - doesn't go with me to appointments, chemo, stem cell collection, transplant. There were days after I came home from transplant I got nothing to eat because I was too sick to get up and fix myself something, but he would go out to a restaurant to get dinner for himself. The worst part is, if I were single, people might offer to help out, but everyone assumes he is taking care of me. Now that I'm stronger, he expects me to still do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. as if everything is back to normal. I'm still in treatment, and my bones snap like twigs - I have three broken bones as I write this.
April, your Warren is a real blessing - thank you for writing this column. I wish you the very best with your treatment!
This was so beautiful & a reminder to all of us to be thankful for the people who love us & travel the journey with us!
Thanks April...I was thinking of you when we went to the symphony last weekend for a special program...romantic music by Rachmaninoff (including the famous Rach 3), since you have mentioned several times that your husband is a musician with a symphony. I guess that was appropriate. Best wishes to you and Warren, and I hope that these medical treatments work really well for you also.
Hi April, a beautiful piece - it brought tears to my eyes. After reading it I went and gave my husband a big hug & he said he would do it all again (I really hope he doesn't have to).
All the best,
Libby
Thank you all for the heartfelt responses. I so appreciate the warm support of the Myeloma Beacon community.
(On April's Note) Everyone, thank you for your support of April and reading her column. The love of writing is the core of April's interests and she is very proud of contributing to the MB. I also thank you for your support of her. Warren
Thanks for the beautiful column April and I love the fact that Warren himself appeared in the comments. Reading the comments I'm struck by the fact that we all find a way forward whether we have a loving caregiver, a reluctant (or worse) caregiver, or are navigating on our own. None of these paths are easy yet we all manage to cope with our disease which makes the MM community so special.
Hello, it's nice to see all the folks out there that have support from loved ones. The few like me with no relatives or friends within thousands of miles have to face myeloma alone. I know, I know, try support groups, but the one in my large city was a real disappointment and I was happy when the meeting was over.
I was curious about all the prep for your biopsy, I've had several and they're a simple procedure with no IV or prep. Why was yours so technical? Just curious.
Ralph: this was the first time I've done a biopsy where a radiologist and not my oncologist was performing the biopsy. It was done with a CT scanner and there was a lot of prep, especially as to pinpointing the site, before the actual biopsy puncture was made. I have never done a biopsy without meds -- don't think I would be able to stand the discomfort and see no reason to test myself!
Very pungent yet heartwarming article April. Was especially nice to see Warren's post as well. Warren, you have my utmost respect! April, kudos to you for being so strong in the face of the enemy that chases us all.
Well done April AND Warren, well done!
I have had two bone marrow biopsies with two different docs (oncologists), and neither time was IV sedation offered or even discussed. Is IV sedation commonly used, or are these responses I'm reading the exception rather than the rule? Thanks for sharing your story, April, and all the best to you.