I guess that my being diagnosed with multiple myeloma was bound to bring many un­expected things along with it. In the 19 months since my diagnosis, many things have happened to me, and to my husband Graham, that we certainly did not expect. Of course, most of them have been medically related.

Alongside all these medical challenges, other un­expected experiences have come our way.

Sometimes, when I take time to reflect, I can see that some of these un­expected outcomes are positive and have changed my life forever in a good way.

For example, being diagnosed with multiple myeloma enabled me to rekindle a very old and important friendship.

Throughout most of my school days, I had a very close friend. We shared the important things in life, such as walking to school together, saving the ‘bus money’ to buy a biscuit that we would split in two and enjoy. We played team sports together, we acted in the same ridiculous plays, and we had the same sense of humor enjoying just taking part. We were the best of pals.

Once we were adults and life became more complex, we kept in touch, but we were no longer closely aware of what was happening in each other’s lives.

Multiple myeloma changed all that.

When my friend heard of my diagnosis, she became a constant companion and correspondent of mine, despite the fact that we were thousands of miles apart – I was in Singapore, and my friend was in the United Kingdom.

In my early myeloma days, I was an inpatient for many long weeks. During two of those periods of hos­pi­tal­i­za­tion, I was a total insomniac due to the high doses of steroids I was taking. My friend would call me as I lay awake in hospital in the middle of those very long nights (one of the advantages of being in different time zones). We would chat, cry, and laugh together as I described what was going on in my life.

We would also exchange long email dialogues sharing thoughts and worries. We became very close again, just as we had been as young girls.

In the middle of one such night, the following poem arrived in my email inbox:

So Marje, my childhood friend and mate,
Has told me of her latest fate,
She’s stuck in bed in tubes entwined,
It really has been quite a grind!

The year just past she's not been well,
With bones and bloods and transplant cells,
We've learnt the terms, we’ve googled far,
“Autologous” and “Harvester.”
“Staging,” “Cell Count,” “Vena Cava,”

Graham’s read the latest papers.
The illness not a path to tread,
With treatment which would turn your head.

One step forward, two steps back,
Privacy? Well that's a joke!
"No choice!" said Marje, "I'll do my bit!
I'll just keep going!" That's her Script!

She grit her teeth, she screamed, she cried,
Graham also - at her side.
Together ploughing furrow through.
It's not yet done, there's more to do.

And Marje, she shares it all with me,
“I really don't know how I'll be.”
Our emails soar a thousand miles,
And feelings shared bring tears and smiles.

So what to do for Marje and I?
We share our hearts, we wonder why?
The best throughout is friendship strong,
Connection, trust, a deepest bond.
We’ll keep on writing - does no harm,
An embryonic book is born!

During that period in hospital, I read this poem again and again, perhaps a hundred times. Still I keep it close to me and I re-read it often. It is, of course, pretty personal, but my friend was happy for me to share it with this audience.

The poem was unexpected, it was lovely, and it happened because of multiple myeloma.

My friend and I are back in touch in a completely different way. As the poem says, we share our hearts. We have both gone on to write other pieces, which I will share in future columns.

I imagine that this type of unexpected outcome is something that has happened to other readers of the Myeloma Beacon as well. Some outcomes of a multiple myeloma diagnosis may be sad, some may be happy, and some are simply quite unexpected.