The holiday season is rapidly approach­ing. The chang­ing colors of the leaves on trees remind us that we will soon be bom­barded with Black Friday advertise­ments. I was surprised during a recent visit to a depart­­ment store to find that Christmas decorations are already on the shelves.

It is so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of this season and lose sight of the meaning of the first holiday of the season, Thanksgiving Day, which our Canadian neighbors already celebrated earlier this month. Having an attitude of gratitude can be pushed aside by the com­mer­cial­iza­tion that has become synonymous with this day.

If and when you have an opportunity during the hustle and bustle of the next month to consider what you can and should be thankful for, don't forget your medical team.

Consider this a very early version of my Thanksgiving Day thoughts.

I am thankful for:

My primary care doctor, who chose not to write off my initial hip pain as arthritis – which I suspected it was – but ordered an x-ray and then referred me to my cancer center. He also monitored me closely during a period when it seemed like I was suffering from upper respiratory infections every six weeks during the early phases of my multiple myeloma.

The bone marrow biopsy team, who made what could have been an uncomfortable, painful process into nothing worse than a routine visit to the dentist.

The young radiology technicians, who guided me through the 25 radiation treatments with a youthful energy that quickly erased any concerns I had about my initial treatment of the disease. Playing Shania Twain songs helped greatly.

The imaging technicians, who kindly reminded me to not move during the PET scans when lying perfectly still for 45 minutes became almost too much to stand.

The staff on the chemotherapy floor, who made my monthly Zometa (zoledronic acid) infusion appointments uneventful because they could always find a vein and insert the needle effortlessly, not something to take lightly from one who has a mild phobia of needles.

The nurses who start my three-month checkups with the preliminary work (height, weight, blood draw) before I see the nurse practitioner or my doctor, and who review my instructions with me at the conclusion of the appointment.

My nurse practitioner, who has been at my medical center since my diagnosis. It is comforting to work with someone who has been there since the start of my multiple myeloma journey.

The cleaning staff on the transplant floor. Regardless of who was cleaning my room, they greeted me cheerily each morning during my stem cell transplant, chatting with me when I wanted to chat, and recog­niz­ing when I was not in a conversational mood. Their attention to detail was amazing.

The nursing aides on the transplant floor who, despite the most unpleasant of tasks, never left my room without asking me if there was anything else they could do for me.

The nurses on the transplant floor, who my doctor said were the experts to listen to during the stem cell transplant, and who certainly went beyond that expectation.

My oncologist, an expert in his field, who, despite the fact that I am probably one of the lowest risk patient he deals with, treats my every question and minor issue with genuine concern.

As I gave thought to this column, I was surprised at the number of people who make up my medical team, as well as the different skill sets that they each possess. As is true for multiple myeloma patients everywhere, my care has been in the hands of a large team. It will likely continue to be so unless a miracle cure is found soon.

Melody Beattie, a respected American author of self-help books who has survived abandonment, kidnapping, sexual abuse, drug and alcohol addiction, divorce, and the death of a child, states that gratitude "turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity ... Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates vision for tomorrow.”

Multiple myeloma certainly creates chaos and confusion in our lives. We all have probably gone through periods of denial about our situation and experienced times when we cannot make sense of why we are afflicted with this disease.

I believe what Melody Beattie has written is true, and I will try to foster an attitude of gratitude, being grateful on a daily basis for the group that easily can be taken for granted, but which my very existence relies on: my medical team.