Have you got any plans this February 28th? Throngs of adults will soon don party hats and make champagne toasts in living rooms across the nation. Sur­rounded by black streamers and gold statuettes, they’ll make friendly wagers on who will win the best actor or supporting actress. There’ll be some surprises when nominees’ names are called to the podium that no one thought would win, and there’ll be triumphant cheers when crowd favorites are honored for their popular efforts.

The 88th Annual Academy Awards is a couple of days from now. This is not usually newsworthy in my world, but the long, red carpet rolls out every year and this year it has me thinking. We admire the stars for their style, poise, and grace. We laugh at their wit and try to imagine what we’d say to them if given the chance. Standing there, they stare straight into the camera and smile, and while we know they are mere mortals like the rest of us, they seem to be gods of fortune.

Sadly, I suspect that most Oscar fans will never realize who the best actors and actresses really are. There are many who walk amongst us, who without scripts, publicists, or entourages, face the arduous tasks of living their lives fully, despite physical, emotional adversity that most people could never fathom.

So this column is dedicated to you, reader, because you know firsthand what it means to give award-winning performances that inspire us all to believe and persevere.

Given that my husband Daniel has not yet had a stem cell transplant or been placed on maintenance ther­apy, I can only imagine what life is like for the multiple myeloma patients who are really suffering every day. To be honest, I try to not imagine it.

I hope that when the time comes, Daniel and I will have the strength to give the stellar performances that I’ve seen from you.

I’ve read your comments on the Myeloma Beacon, and I’ve seen you in the waiting rooms, meeting your daily dose of adversity with smiling faces, determination, and steadfast spirits. I’ve watched you encourage others who are struggling, and be the pillar of strength for your families despite the uncertainty that surely clung to your distant thoughts.

I’ve watched you too, spouses and caregivers, standing by your loved one’s side, anticipating their every need, whisking away paperwork, urine jugs, and the fear behind your nurturing, empathetic gazes.

I’ve read the contributions of loved ones left behind, like Merle Goodman, who about this time last year, wrote a farewell column in memory of her husband ^[1], Beacon columnist Dr. Arnie Goodman ^[2]. Despite her own grief, Merle buoyed us up, inspiring us in her support of the multiple myeloma community.

There are so many examples of patients and caregivers who’ve shown otherworldly strength and peace. One of these patients who worked tirelessly to improve the lives of myeloma patients was fellow Beacon columnist Pat Killingsworth ^[3], who passed away earlier this month.

Aren’t these amongst us the real Oscar winners? Those who can look beyond themselves and, despite their exhaustion or pain, embrace the role of fighter, nurturer, positivist, or believer?

If I had my own awards show, I’d recognize those like you; you who keep the faith, day-in and day-out, assum­ing a role for which you receive little to no accolades, and you always know your lines. You’re in character every day, in makeup, under the lights, and you do the work. You put one step in front of the other, you straighten your shoulders back, raise your head high, and you show us that you can do this – and we can do it too.

Now that’s a performance worthy of applause.

Award ceremonies don’t hold a lot of significance in my life, but maybe that’s because they seem so trivial compared to those I see and read about everyday – those who deserve the real accolades in life. And so, the Oscar goes to you, multiple myeloma patients, caregivers, researchers, and medical staff. You’re the ones who deserve the standing ovation. Thank you for playing such influential roles for us all.