My topic for this column came to me during my son’s recent birthday party. Because I was still suffering from the effects of a recently contracted RSV virus, I kept apart from everyone and watched the activities going on in the kitchen and dining room from afar in “my chair” in the living room.

As we celebrated his 19^th birthday, I couldn’t help but wonder how my condition has impacted him and whether I have done the best I could in helping him and his older sister deal with the fact that their dad has an incurable disease.

One of the first tasks those of us diagnosed with multiple myeloma have to tackle is to tell our loved ones of our new reality. Not only do we have to tell them that we have cancer, but also that, in all likelihood, the disease will cut our lives short.

The average age at diagnosis is in the mid-sixties, so in most cases the task of telling young children that mom or dad has an incurable disease is avoided. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be diagnosed with this disease having to live with the fact that the odds are against your seeing your kids go on their first date, make a game-winning shot, graduate from high school, walk down the aisle on their wedding, and have grandchildren you can spoil.

Regardless of how old our children are, we wish to spare them from as much pain as possible. Unfortunately, this is not always possible, so we are confronted with the task of how and what we tell them. Obviously, the age of children and our condition dictates how we address this topic.

I once had the unpleasant and gut-wrenching task of telling a student that their only living parent had died. After having gone through that experience, I am thankful that my two children were young adults, ages 16 and 20, when I was first diagnosed. They were more than capable of dealing with all the aspects of their dad having multiple myeloma.

Given that I hold a public position in our community, I felt it was important not to leave gaps in the information I provided them - otherwise, these gaps would be filled with misinformation, guesses, and speculation.

My wife and I pulled no punches in describing prognosis, treatment and side effects, quality of life issues, and how the disease could impact our family financially.

The final thing we told them, which is probably the best thing we did, was that, despite the fact that we were dealing with an incurable disease, we would tell them when it was time to worry. Fortunately, we have not had to tell them that yet.

To reinforce the idea that it was not yet time to worry, both of my children accompanied me to my cancer center for one of the 25 radiation treatments I had. I felt it was important for them to have a sense of what this first round of treatment involved. I also wanted to demonstrate to them how routine the treatment was. They were both underwhelmed by the trip, surprised at how little time the actual treatment took.

My wife prepared them well on how to deal with my occasional dex rages. I noticed that the room would quickly empty when I would go on a rant. I have since learned that they had a signal in place that resulted in me often times talking to the walls.

It goes without saying that the autologous stem cell transplant that I had last June was the most significant event of my myeloma experience so far. We allowed our children to visit twice during my 16-day stay at the hospital; once at the very beginning of the process, and once near the end as I approached discharge. They were spared the ugly days in between.

My wife and I have also taken steps to guarantee that our children will not inherit any debt upon my passing.

One thing I still want to do is have my children accompany me on one of my three-month check-ups. I think that it is important for them to meet my doctor and the medical team that is working hard to keep me alive for as long as possible. I also want them to be able to put a name to a face my wife and I so often refer to.

Regardless of what crisis we deal with in raising children, the best we can do is give them the tools that they need to succeed and hope that, in doing so, their foundation is strong enough to enable them to face any challenge they will encounter.

As we move forward, and as I mentioned in my last column, our goal now is to make memories with our children. The best way to do this is to stay involved in life and do the things we enjoy as a family for as long as we can.

I am interested to hear how others have dealt with the task of preparing their children to being children of a parent living with multiple myeloma.