Sean’s Burgundy Thread: Answering The Bell
My always-in-a-hurry daughter surprised me by plopping down on the family room couch to join me for what my kids call ‘Dad Movie Night.’
Because the film featured no vampire heartthrobs, no hungry gamers, and no schoolboy hero wizards, I expected her to say ‘I’ll see ya’ later, Daddy!’ before scampering off to resume her regularly scheduled teenage girl activities.
But to my delight, she stayed for all two hours of the flick, start to finish, soup to nuts. I was impressed.
So what was the Hollywood masterpiece that commanded her attention?
Rocky.
Yep. It was the same Rocky of Sylvester Stallone and Rocky cinematic fame that my buddies and I first saw in the theaters when we were in high school back in the 70s.
Curiosity got the better of me as to why she stayed, so I asked her if she liked the boxing.
‘Ew, no! Boxing is gross! And why was he beating up those poor frozen cows and drinking those raw eggs? Yuck! I couldn’t stand those parts.’
Okay, apparently it wasn’t the boxing or the food choices that held her interest.
‘What I did like was how Rocky didn’t give up. I like stories about people who don’t give up. You and your cancer crew don't give up. Right? Oh, and I liked the movie ‘cause it was a love story. Good chick flick, Dad.’
Wow. She compared my buddies and me to Rocky Balboa. Cool.
Wait a minute! Did she say that one of the greatest testosterone fueled anthem movies from my generation was a chick flick? Not fair, this was Dad Movie Night!
Grinning, I asked her if she wanted to watch it again. This time she quickly replied ‘Uh, no thanks. See you later, Daddy’ and beat feet out of the room. Now that’s the girl I know!
I must admit that all the talk about boxing matches, movies, cancer, and not giving up started to swirl around in my imagination. When that happens, I began to daydream.
So there I was, minding my own business in the boxing ring when a bell was struck. At exactly the same time something poked me right on the middle of my spine. As I turned to see who the culprit was – WHAM – I was sucker-punched by a solid roundhouse to the jaw which shook my skeleton to the core and dropped me face-down to the canvass.
Gee, that’s how I was feeling when I was diagnosed with myeloma. I was totally blindsided.
Hurting and disoriented, I got to my knees and began to crawl. I was dizzy and out of balance and didn't know which way to go. Despite the ringing noise in my ears I could hear the referee begin his ominous long count to TEN:
ONE … TWO … THREE …
That’s when I noticed that some people in the crowd started to leave. They weren’t so much interested in sticking around to see what happened to me.
Others sat motionless and silent. They weren’t being malicious; they just had no faith that I could survive the pummeling. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t so sure myself that I could get back up. I was no Rocky Balboa.
FOUR … FIVE … SIX …
It soon dawned on me that I knew absolutely nothing about my opponent. He looked and acted like he hated me. He taunted me by saying that he had been secretly following me for years, waging a hidden underground war, and that he was going to destroy me. He was terrifying.
SEVEN … EIGHT … NINE …
As word of my dilemma got out, people who had faced major challenges in their own lives rushed to my corner. They shouted for me not to give up and not to give in. They told me to keep fighting because I was made from the same strong, stubborn stuff that they were.
Then strangers who knew my adversary well came to my rescue. They had seen my opponent in action and knew some of his tricks and some of his weaknesses. And best of all, their mission, and their passion, was to figure out ways to keep him on the run and to keep people like me going.
Still others prayed fervently for my safety.
And finally with everyone’s encouragement bolstering me, I was able to shake off the effects of the initial blows, rise to my feet just before the referee could reach the count of TEN.
I shuffled over to the stool in my corner. There I was surrounded by countless people, some I knew and some I didn't. They held me up, cleaned my cuts and bandaged me, and gave me valuable counsel. To know that I was not alone gave me strength.
That's when my silly daydream ended.
It’s been six years now since I began my fight with multiple myeloma. In some rounds, I whip the tar out of the enemy and sometimes he has me on the ropes. Am I going to win the match when all is said and done? God only knows.
But what I know is that, like Rocky, I will go the distance until there is just no fight left in me. I will do everything in my power to get up and answer that bell.
Almost anything. Please don’t ask me to slug cows and eat raw eggs, I have my limits!
I want to encourage you patients, caregivers, researchers, medical teams, fundraisers, drug makers, publishers – everyone - to keep fighting the good fight. Keep swinging away. Someday we will bring multiple myeloma to its knees.
Sean Murray is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist at The Myeloma Beacon. You can view a list of his columns here.
If you are interested in writing a regular column to be published by The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
Great article. I am swinging for the fences every day with this disease. After 3 long years, it is still the same, I have no issues except back pain and that was because a plasmacytoma ate my T7 and T8 disc. Gone. Eaten. Nothing left! I am also fused from 2 - 15.
I get up, go to work, travel, laugh, love. But I know and my wife knows that the evil Myeloma Monster is waiting for me to let my guard down so he can finish me off. Well Myeloma Monster, you got a fight on your hands this time. I love my life. I love my wife. No matter what, I am sooo lucky but, I want more and I will go the distance to get it!
Peace
Great column. You made me think of the movie Starman when Jeff Bridges says the most admirable trait of human beings is that they are at their best when times are worst. You seem to have a great family and medical team around you. In today's society, we throw out the word hero quite loosely, but the doctors, nurses, your wife and children, and you are the true heroes. You and I have the same mindset, to never give up. My wife is in the watch-and-wait phase of this disease and I always tell her if it progresses to fight like hell. I want to thank you for an inspirational article. Good luck to you and your family.
Hi Sean, Terrific column! When Dilip and I visited Philadelphia in 2013, we went to the Museum of Art there, AND the steps leading up to the museum are the 'Rocky Steps', which were in the 'Rocky' movie. So he ran up and down them, and I walked them too. It seemed inspiring to do that!
Really enjoyed your article. I am fighting. Again. I was diagnosed in July 2012 when my humerus spontaneously broke. Surgery, radiation, chemo and a stem cell transplant put me in remission in July 2013. Bone marrow biopsy confirmed myeloma had returned in September 2014. Have started dexamethasone and Krypolis. Am determined to fight this until I can fight no more. I have 6 kids, 23 grand kids, a wonderful husband and a classroom of students counting on me. You keep up the good fight, too!!
Great post!!! Thank you!!!
Thanks! This was uplifting - I needed this.
Great article and perfect timing. My husband has been struggling for 6 months with symptoms that appear to be from treatment. About a month ago, I told his doctor I thought he had a 2nd cancer from the Revlimid and if something wasn't done soon, he would be gone. He then did a BMB and discovered an infection in the bone marrow - atypical mycobacterium. Not good, but treatable (sound familiar?). So off to an infectious disease doctor (i.e. AIDS doctor). We were told it could take up to 5 weeks or longer for the cultures to grow. Not acceptable. That doctor was horrible - he said no chemo for at least a year and to choose if he wanted to die of myeloma or the infection. Such a nice guy.
Turns out it really wasn't a choice. He is now off chemo. I hounded his oncologist into researching the infection and prescribing the antibiotics needed. When he handed me the scripts, he said "They aren't going to like this ..." But at least my husband now has a chance of recovering - and getting back up on his feet before the count goes to 10!! I want a few more rounds with my husband ... DING!
Great column Sean! I always enjoy your columns but this was my favorite as I always enjoy sports analogies and this column so accurately describes the multiple myeloma experience.
This is great! I am the patient and have been in remission for 2 years and 4 months and can relate! My husband is in denial of the "chick flick" tag. I think it is spot on. I would watch this movie and close my eyes or leave the room during the bloody parts. Talia played that part so well. She never gave up on loving him and tending his wounds. My hope is those in my life have the same compassion in my later years. And as my husband continues to stand by me, he turns the corner and sees the "chick flick" in a new light! God Bless!
Sean, you are an inspiration. I look forward to your articles that are humorous about a very serious subject and uplifting for me as I care for my husband who has had multiple myeloma for 6 1/2 years.
Enjoyed your article very much, thank you
Thank you, Sean. My husband was diagnosed in July so I am a newbie. I spend time every day researching and there is so much to learn. I am so grateful for your humor. We recently read your central line vs. wheelchair article and couldn't stop laughing. I refuse to give up laughter. It is simple medicine.
Another fantastic column Sean! I look forward to your columns for both levity and meaning, and you never disappoint in providing either. I think you make a great Rocky Balboa - cue the "Feeling Strong Now" music!
Tabitha
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