My husband Daniel and I love visiting New York City at Christmas time. No other city seems to decorate quite so well, and we find all the festivity is just what the doctor ordered to get us in the holiday spirit.

We made our familiar pilgrimage to New York earlier this month, and we visited a major department store to see the holiday windows and all the decorations they had hanging inside.

The store’s theme this year is Believe in the Magic of Christmas, and while I understand that it’s a department store’s job to make me feel sentimental (so that I’ll spend my Christmas dollars there), I have to tell you, their plan worked.

Beautiful life-sized orbs hung from the ceiling of the store, and each breathtaking centerpiece was sur­rounded by countless yards of red bows and ribbon, and yards of gold garland hung like Christmas bunting from all the rafters.

Each orb was like a snow globe, containing beautiful scenes inside with things like brightly wrapped foil gifts, children skating in wintry cityscapes, or moving red and gold choo-choo trains circumnavigating the North Pole. A one word message labeled each globe. The words read: Imagine. Wish. Dream. Believe. It was truly breathtaking.

In the center of the store stood a large red mailbox labeled SANTA MAIL in block letters with Believe in bright cursive script above it. Tables were set up with stationary for letters to Santa, and throngs of children and adults alike were scribbling their wishes to Santa. For each letter written, the store was donating one dollar to the Make A Wish foundation, so everyone seemed to be joining in the fun.

As I stood waiting for my turn to fill out a letter to Santa, I couldn’t help but see some of the Christmas wishes around me. Little kids were writing about toys, bicycles, and game consoles. One set of parents giggled as they wished to win the lottery. I looked up to see if Dan was still where I had left him, waiting to take my picture with the mailbox.

He stood there smiling at me, warm with the merriment of the season, and the exuberant children clamoring to see Santa upstairs.

I smiled back at him, capturing the moment with my mental camera. It’s moments like these when I still can’t believe that myeloma is growing inside of him. To me, he’s the same handsome young man that I married 11 years ago.

I didn’t need to wonder what I’d wish for. As I began to write my letter to Santa, I thought about Daniel and so many others like him. People like you and your families. Caregivers and spouses like me.

As I wrote my letter, I didn't ask Santa for a new purse or fancy earrings. My Christmas wish for Santa was written simply, and with all the hope of a child.

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is a cure for multiple myeloma. I believe.
Please help me. Hope for a cure.

Merry Christmas,
Tabitha Burns

It was one of those times. One of the unplanned moments when living with myeloma catches you off-guard when you least expect it.

The good news is that we don’t have to rely on letters to Santa as our source for hope.

This year alone we’ve seen the United States Food and Drug Administration approve Farydak ^[1] (pano­bino­stat) in February, Darzalex ^[2] (dara­tumu­mab) and Ninlaro ^[3] (ixazomib) in November, and then Empliciti ^[4] (elo­tuzu­mab) this month.

Clinical trials are taking place in research hospitals all over the world as specialists, researchers, and phar­ma­ceutical companies test single-agent and multi-agent treatments, often targeting those who have already had, or may be refractory to, multiple lines of therapy.

The treatment landscape is changing for myeloma patients.

In recent years we’ve seen new therapies, new classes of drugs, and now some specialists even look to the day when advanced blood or urine testing techniques may make bone marrow aspirations obsolete.

I do believe. I believe that a cure for myeloma, or at the very least a sustainable, long-term remission, will happen for patients in my lifetime.

There is a good possibility that I was put on this earth for this purpose. To encourage. To believe. To help my husband on this journey. And I’m good with that.

I usher in this holiday season inviting you to join me in daring to Imagine. Wish. Dream. Believe. And yes, hope. Hope that 2016 is the year to wipe out multiple myeloma.

Merry Christmas from Daniel and me. May God bless you and keep you all.