Mohr’s Myeloma Musings: “You Ain’t So Bad”
Despite my love for sports and the fact that I have been directly involved in sports in one form or another for most of my life, I have found that there are not many sports movies worth watching. Few, if any, have realistic sports action scenes, and it is obvious that the writers and producers know very little about sports or, giving them the benefit of the doubt, it is just too difficult to create sports action that resembles what we see in live sporting events.
While the action in none of the Rocky movies is very realistic from a pure boxing standpoint – no one could possibly take the punches that they trade in the fight scenes – one of my favorite sports movies is "Rocky III." For those who have never seen the movie or can’t remember what this movie was about, Rocky III is the third installment of the Rocky series, where the nearly retired Rocky is challenged by the younger and stronger "Clubber Lang", played by the actor Mr. T.
One of my favorite scenes in the movie is when Rocky is getting pummeled by Clubber Lang in their second fight. Rocky taunts Clubber. "You ain't so bad, you ain't so bad, you ain't nothin'. C'mon, champ, hit me in the face! My mother hits harder than that!”
So what does this have to do with having multiple myeloma?
Since my last column, I traveled to Houston to attend the funeral of my nephew Jason, who passed away at the age of 33 after a year-long battle with pancreatic cancer. My sister asked me to be a pall bearer and also to speak at the funeral.
After we placed the coffin in its place for the graveside service, the funeral director instructed those of us who were pall bearers to stand together off to the side. From where I stood, I was virtually facing my sister, her husband, and my niece, and I could see the agony of the family as the service progressed and different speakers paid tribute to Jason. It was difficult to watch and maintain my composure.
When it came my turn to speak, I tried to convey to everyone how strong Jason had been by comparing his experiences with the difficulties I had during my autologous stem cell transplant. I described how, on the seventh day of the transplant process, I remember praying that if it was “my time,” I was ready to go. Jason, on the other hand, insisted on making a family trip to Disney World a month before he passed away after enduring more than a year of numerous treatments and clinical trials that often were every bit as difficult as an autologous stem cell transplant.
In my comments, I also spoke to the fact that my sister and her husband had been such strong witnesses and examples for us to follow. I believe, and said, that it is often more difficult being the caregiver than the patient. As patients, we become so involved and caught up in carrying out the game plan of the treatment regimen and the challenges involved with that, that we often forget about the long-term effects, which can be dismal. Caregivers, on the other hand, struggle with both the short-term and long-term challenges, which can be emotionally and mentally draining.
Later, when talking about the funeral with my family, the Rocky scene I described earlier came to mind. Whenever discussing my current condition with others, whether it be close friends and family who are very familiar with my situation, or someone with whom I am discussing my situation and multiple myeloma for the first time, I always try to end the discussion by saying "There are a lot of people worse off than me." And that’s why I can say to multiple myeloma “You ain’t so bad, you ain’t so bad.”
I can say that because, unlike pancreatic cancer, multiple myeloma in most cases is not an imminently terminal diagnosis. Multiple myeloma is treatable, and despite the fact that many of the treatments are toxic and the side effects life altering, these side effects can be controlled through medications, and a near normal life can be led.
However, because of the toxicity of these treatments and their side effects, I can’t repeat the second part of Rocky's taunt – the part where he says “C'mon, champ, hit me in the face! My mother hits harder than that!” Being diagnosed with multiple myeloma and treated for multiple myeloma is a hit in the face, and even in its mildest form, it cannot be compared to being hit by our mothers.
As "Rocky III" fans remember, Clubber flails away at Rocky, throwing everything he has into knocking Rocky out, but all he does is punch himself out. Rocky ends up knocking Clubber out and avenging his earlier loss to the younger, stronger fighter. Multiple myeloma throws everything it has at us, and the current treatments can do nothing more right now than to blunt the blows, as Rocky did, until a countering knockout punch can be delivered by new treatments or a cure.
While multiple myeloma “ain’t so bad,” I realize that it will probably cut short my life, and as I get older, the symptoms of the disease and treatments will become more challenging. I only hope that I can face those times with the strength and courage that Jason did, and that my family can be as brave, and present such a wonderful witness to their faith and family, as my sister did.
Rest in peace, Jason.
Steve Mohr is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist here at The Myeloma Beacon. His column is published once a month. You can view a list of his columns here.
If you are interested in writing a regular column for The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
I'm so sorry about your nephew. I have often thought the same thing when comparing multiple myeloma to pancreatic cancer. I have known a couple people who have died from that silent killer. I am not looking forward to the future and getting weaker, relapses, etc., etc., but I am trying to enjoy life now as much as I can while I can. Thanks for your encouragement, and I am so sorry for your family's loss.
Steve, I was very sorry to read about your nephew: 33 really is such a young age. Thanks very much for this column. It somehow managed to be sad and uplifting at the same time.
Sorry for your loss Steve. I agree with your sentiment. Despite having multiple myeloma, I see others who are worse off or suffer more than myself. Other cancer meds are tougher than what I take. My sister died last year after a long 11 years of fighting breast cancer. She was only 43 when she died. I too can say, this ain't so bad. I hope we can make it to the end and still say, this ain't so bad.
Best wishes,
Kim
I am sorry for your and your family's loss of your young nephew, Steve. You had mentioned him before in your columns.
Pancreatic cancer seems so horrible, with a low survival rate. I had a friend who was diagnosed with that cancer the same month that I got my myeloma diagnosis. She was a fitness instructor, hiker, and mother of two boys just going into post secondary education. Despite all of her best efforts, and that of the medical community, she only survived for a year. That was so tragic, to be cut off in the prime of life.
You are strong and courageous. You have been and continue to be a Godly example and witness. You are a good, good man and a wonderful brother. I love you!
Steve, I am so sorry to hear about your nephew Jason. His life was cut short but it sounds like he led a very fulfilling life. Some of us can really learn from those examples. I keep you and your family in my prayers.
All the best as you keep fighting....
Lori
Susan, Trevor, Kimberly, Nancy, Lori - I appreciate your kind words of condolence. My realization that there are a lot of people who have it worse than I do occurred on my first visit to my cancer center. My wife and I got on an elevator to go up to the chemo wing and a dad who was carrying his young daughter got on the elevator. Based on her appearance, she was obviously going through chemotherapy. Whenever I start feeling sorry for myself, which I have no business doing, I think of that elevator ride.
Steve, what a beautifully written tribute to your sister and nephew, Jason. I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm thankful for the wisdom of your words that serve as inspiration for us all. Thank you.
Steve, I'm sorry for the loss of your nephew. He sounds like a wonderful and strong person. Such a tragedy to die so young.
You're so right that there are people who are worse off than many/most of us with multiple myeloma. Your elevator story is such a great example. One day I was headed to a chemo treatment, feeling a little sorry for myself. But seeing a young mother wheel her small, bald boy in a stroller through the hospital lobby snapped me out of that real quick.
Mike
Steve - That was a heart wrenching story. I am so very sorry for the loss of your nephew to pancreatic cancer. Three years ago we lost a friend to that terrible and swift killer. I also saw on the news that Hawaii Congressman Mark Takai lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. At times I think that my husband's situation could be worse and his cancer more aggressive. I pause and thank God that his situation is not worse and that we will make each day work. We will take the good days as well as the bad days and make each day count. We will use your suggestion, "You ain't so bad" when confronting our myeloma battles. Thanks again, Steve!
Steve - Thank you for your uplifting, very candid remarks about the disease we lovingly call "multiple myeloma". I have read several of your articles, and as a newly diagnosed patient, I have come to be less afraid of the life I now will be living. Additionally, your experience with multiple myeloma and your athletic coaching experience has helped me remain closer to my late husband of 27 years, Richard. He, too, coached basketball, held a PhD in sport psychology, and used so many of the techniques and attitudes your describe in your columns. Your thoughts, whether about coaching or dealing with our life challenge, come through as teachings/reminders for my life with multiple myeloma.
Your column titled "Don't Let Fatigue Make A Coward Out of You" brought home the effect fatigue can have on a team and on those of us with this unforgiving disease. Thank you for your continuing thoughts and suggestions on how to combat the emotional and physical side effects of multiple myeloma.
I am very sorry to read about your nephew's death. My condolences to your family and may their life be one of remembrance for someone they held so close to their hearts.
Keep those columns coming ...
Tabitha - I appreciate your kind comments on the column.
Mike - Every time I have an appointment at my cancer center, I see scenes as you describe. While my heart goes out to these youngsters, and I wonder what a life with cancer that was contracted so young has in store for them, it does help to remind me that, by comparison, my situation, isn't so bad at all.
PattyB - I almost feel guilty talking about my bad days as I am sure that there are many with multiple myeloma who do have it bad and can probably tell me "It is bad." In the meantime, I'll count my blessings and try to make as many memories with my family as possible.
Robbie - I really appreciate your kind words on my columns. One tends to write from their knowledge base and experiences. My knowledge base about multiple myeloma isn't particularly strong, so I try to use analogies from my life in and around sports to in some small way help others.