Most people avoid doing chores, whether it be washing dishes, mowing the lawn, doing laundry, or walking the dog. But for me, daily tasks are a joy.

I take great pleasure in the simple things. Routine is a welcome respite. I enjoy spending time around the house, chipping away at the “honey do” list – writing my column, or working on my next book with our dog, Finnegan, lying at my feet.

It wasn’t always this way. I dreaded the mundane and repetitive tasks from which there was no escape. But that was before I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma.

As the relapses come closer together, I find comfort in doing things that scream, “Normal!”

I don’t have a bucket list. I don’t yearn to cruise the Mediterranean or hike the Appalachian Trail. For me, sticking to a simple routine is comforting. Recycling goes out on Wednesday, trash on Thursday. Check and answer email. Write a bit. Grab some lunch – something fun that I get to choose – when I hear the theme song for “The Young and the Restless” playing on TV in the other room.

I don’t have the stamina to do much yard work anymore. But I do my best to get something done. And, while it can be discouraging given that I can’t do what I could a short year or two ago, working in the yard rekindles childhood memories of mowing and raking the neighbor’s yard.

Although I don’t make time to meditate regularly, getting caught up in my simple routine is a sort of mantra – mindless, repetitive chores that provide an escape from the realities of my cancer.

That said, a day-to-day routine isn’t enough. I’ve always needed more. Helping my fellow myeloma survivors fills my heart and gives me a reason to take those first painful steps out of bed each morning.

I’ve always lived for the future. Deferred gratification was my middle name. Take that away, and I’m a lost soul. That’s why our recent move across Florida was so important to me.

True, the planning and the packing were all crazy hard. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling overwhelmed more than once by all the things that had to be done. We had to find a home, make plans to renovate it, and then sell our home in Weeki Wachee. I also had to find new doctors and a new pharmacy. Along the way, we had to switch banks, and don’t even get me started on the endless series of change of address forms that had to be filled out.

Doing all of this while not knowing if my new myeloma therapy was going to work was exhausting.

But I also felt energized and alive! Pattie and I were planning for the future. We were moving to our favorite vacation spot: Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island. The thought of taking long walks along the beach – our beach – was intoxicating.

Fast forward ten weeks. Most of the boxes are unpacked. The new pool will be finished on Friday, so we can add swimming laps to our exercise routine again (I miss our pool back on the Gulf Coast). Pattie was able to swing a transfer to a dialysis clinic here on the Island and she’s getting settled in.  We’ll be able to spend the weekend working around the house. I look forward to Saturday visits to the garden center, grocery store, and Home Depot!

It all leaves me feeling hopeful. Hopeful that my new Pomalyst ^[1] (pomalidomide, Imnvoid) therapy is going to work.  Hopeful that the pain caused by active myeloma lesions in my hips and at the base of my neck will melt away. Hopeful that I’ll be here for the first Christmas in our new home – and for many Christmases after that.

Maybe I can even make time to enjoy an ice cold beer on the patio. Now that’s worth living for!

Feel good and keep smiling!