I was busy multi-tasking a couple of days ago. Well, I wasn’t actually busy busy. And maybe multi-tasking is a bit of an overstatement. Anyway, this is what happened:

I was drinking coffee AND watching tele­vision AND surfing the internet. Oh, and I was eating a Christmas sugar cookie that my daughter had just baked. Now if that’s not multi-tasking, I don’t know what is, right?

Let me start over.

At the very moment I was reading the word ‘mean’ in a comment about multiple myeloma statistics, I heard Thurl Ravenscroft ^[1] sing in his booming basso profundo voice ‘You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch’ on the tele­vision. A few seconds later, I heard my wife tell our three pups to stop being so mean to each other as they were rough-housing in the family room.

What did it all mean? (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

As I listened to Mr. Ravenscroft demean (sorry again) the not-so-nice Grinch, I thought to myself that multiple myeloma is even meaner to us than that nasty old Grinch ever could be. So for better or for worse, and with apologies to author Theodore Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss, and composer Albert Hague, this is what popped into my mind:

Once upon a time, in a not-so-far-away village known as Myelomaville, everyone looked out for one another, especially when Mr. M came calling to town. The mysterious, overbearing bully was fond of accosting innocent townsfolk just like you and me.

You’re a mean one, Mr. M
You really are a jerk
You’re as slippery as a serpent with a condescending smirk, Mr. M
You’re a sinister stowaway, squatting in my blood work

You’re malignant, Mr. M
You think that you’re so smart
You lurk deep in my marrow making pain and fear your art, Mr. M
You’re a cold plasmic menace with a shriveled up darker-than-dark heart

You’re destructive, Mr. M
Your each and every clone
You send out immuno ‘Goblins’ to crack my healthy bone, Mr. M
Your evil minions need to just leave me the crack alone

You’re exhausting, Mr. M
You always make me tired
You force out all my red cells from the spaces you’ve acquired, Mr. M
You and Dr. Dex keep me Zombie-biologically wired

You’re a glutton, Mr. M
You epitomize Grinchy greed
You crowd out all the platelets and the white cells that I need, Mr. M
You probably throw gaudy parties when I bleed.

You’re frightful, Mr. M
You delight in giving a scare
Your methods are despicable as you spread your mad despair, Mr. M
You and I must terminate our oh so toxic, one-sided hate affair

Your days are numbered, Mr. M.
You'll soon descend into a funk
You thought you were a battleship, but you’re nothing but a junk, Mr. M

These three things will one day best describe your evil voyage, and I quote:
‘Sink! Sank! Sunk!’

I could go on, but I won’t. You’re welcome. It sure feels good to give Mr. M both barrels. He deserves it.

The truth is that Mr. M is awfully difficult to be around. I’ve been slugging it out with him for eight years. Some of you reading this have been fighting even longer than that. While Mr. Grinch found redemption and accept­ance in Dr. Seuss’s Whoville, I won’t be so charitable to Mr. M. I’ll live with him if I must, but I’d rather see him run out of town.

During my days visiting Myelomaville, I have seen outcomes getting better for many patients as advances in new targeted treatments, techniques and procedures come into play. We have a long way to go, but there is real hope.

I want to wish each of you peace and healing during this holiday season. If you are struggling right now or are new to the wiles of Mr. M and his minions, please know that I and many others are thinking about you and praying for you.

Rest assured that I will do my part to keep yelling at Mr. M until he slithers away and stops bothering me. How about you? Warm up those rusty pipes and give mean old Mr. M a piece of your mind.

In the meantime (not sorry for that one!), stay strong, stay hopeful, Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays, I’ll see you in the New Year!