Webster defines a “mentor” as “an experi­enced and trusted adviser.” I have served in my work life as an adviser, and I think it fair to say I’ve been viewed as both “ex­peri­enced” and “trusted” when I’ve taken on that role. However, I have never really con­sidered myself to be a mentor.

Sure, I have given people advice, but it was never in any kind of a formal setting. The whole “mentor-mentee” thing came into vogue in recent years, but being an old school type, it never really ap­pealed to me.

But now I am officially a myeloma mentor!

Let me explain.

Like many of the good things that have happened to me, this opportunity came about in­directly and fortu­itously.

One day well over a year and half ago, I was hanging out in the hospital infusion room enduring another seem­ingly endless Aredia (pamidronate) session. Is was a bit of a slow day in there, so Nurse Patti and I spent some time chatting about multiple myeloma, the various treatments for it, and their side effects. At that point in my myeloma odyssey, I had become fairly well-informed on a number of myeloma-related topics. When we were finished, Patti remarked that, with my knowledge, I would be a good fit for the hospital’s mentor program.

It turns out that the hospital where I receive treatment has a program that matches patients and caregivers with other patients and caregivers who have experience in dealing with similar situations. It is a bit like a support group, but focuses on one-on-one interactions. Not being a support group person, but wanting to help others, this seemed like it might be a good opportunity for me.

I didn’t jump on it right away since I was still very busy with work, but I put it in the back of my mind for the future.

This past winter, I got back in touch with Patti to start the process of getting qualified for the program. And boy was it a lengthy process!

First I had to attend a hospital volunteer orientation session. Then there is a health screening and an immunization check. I was worried that, since I had gone through a stem cell transplant and been re-immunized, I would not pass the test because I could not receive live virus shots like the measles, mumps, and rubella (MMR) vaccine. But luckily my titers came back positive.

Then came child abuse registry clearance, fingerprinting, and a criminal history records check. Someone then had to analyze all of this information and pronounce me ready to volunteer. This took several months.

Finally, I was ready for the last step: the mentoring training. This consisted of a session with Patti during which she went over the program guidelines and we did some simple role-playing. The hospital is rightfully very careful to emphasize that mentors are not health care professionals and must not give any treatment advice.

So now I finally was set to actually mentor.

To date I have had only a couple of mentorship encounters. To get started, Patti asked me to come to the infusion room one morning to talk to patients and also to some of the nurses who deliver treatments to multiple myeloma patients.

I was able to speak with two patients that day. The first was a man in for his Velcade ^[1] (bortezomib) shot, so I had only a short opportunity to talk with him. I gathered from Patti, who knows him as a member of her church, that he is very shy. As we talked, I got the impression that he had never before spoken with another multiple myeloma patient. As the conversation went on, he became more comfortable and began to talk about his experiences. I am hoping that he will reach out to me so that we can continue the discussion.

The second patient was a woman who was in for a stem cell transplant. The hospital now does transplants completely outpatient, so she was in an infusion room waiting for her melphalan ^[2] (Alkeran). Since I had been through the transplant process, I was able to answer many of her questions.

What struck me during my conversation with this patient was how little she had been told about the details of the transplant process. And she did not appear to have done much research on her own. I gave her advice about how to get through the fatigue, the importance of staying active, and the best way to organize the many medications she would be given post-transplant. I also emphasized the need to suck on ice chips for a significant time after the melphalan infusion to prevent mouth sores.

Anyone who has been through a stem cell transplant knows it is an anxious time. It appeared to me that being able to talk with someone who had been through the process, and appeared to be fully recovered and able live a relatively normal life, helped alleviate some of her concerns. Her daughter was with her, and she also appeared to welcome the information.

It was equally important that I was able to talk at some length with several of the infusion room nurses. What we as patients may not realize is that nurses see only a small slice of the multiple myeloma experience. The nurses were very interested to hear how we patients deal with side effects that we suffer once we are home, how we make decisions on which treatments to pursue, and what it is like to interact with our doctors.

I am excited about participating in this program. Even with my limited efforts so far, it has been so rewarding. I get to see the impact immediately.

Giving back is truly a gift to the giver.