A Northwest Lens On Myeloma: Sky Of Fullness
“Is there anyone alive out there?”
The call from the darkened stage is met with a cheer from the crowd.
The call is repeated with greater passion, “Is there anyone really alive out there?”
A thunderous roar erupts, the stage lights rise, and Bruce Springsteen lifts a hand to greet the assembled masses.
While Bruce’s customary concert rallying cry energizes his fans, it is also a promise to be fulfilled that night. A Springsteen concert is part rock show, part revival meeting, part philosophy class, and always a shot of adrenaline. Live or recorded, his music is a lesson in what it means to be alive.
Sky of blackness and sorrow (a dream of life)
Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life)
Sky of glory and sadness (a dream of life)
Sky of mercy, sky of fear (a dream of life)
Sky of memory and shadow (a dream of life)
Your burnin' wind fills my arms tonight
Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life)
Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life
Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight
These are lyrics from Bruce Springsteen’s song “The Rising.” The song was recorded following the tragedy of September 11, 2001. It relates the feelings of sadness being overcome by great hope.
I was lucky enough to hear Bruce perform the song live in 2002, bringing many of the audience to tears. At a time when our nation was still in pain, Bruce’s music was there to move us beyond the despair.
In 2002 Bruce spoke to the nation like he has spoken to me all of my life. As is true for so many other fans, Bruce wrote the soundtrack of my life. For every big event, every up and every down in my life, there is a Springsteen song I associate with that time.
During this new phase of my life, my life with multiple myeloma, he is here again.
In 2016 Bruce’s live tour included a complete performance of his 1980 double-album "The River." It was released the year I graduated from high school, started college, and met my future bride. The songs on this record elicit strong memories for me.
"The River" is unique because it includes every type of Springsteen's music. As Bruce describes it, the record is as big as life, and contains fun, jokes, dancing, laughter, good friendship, love and faith, lonely nights, and, of course, teardrops. His songs touch the full gamut of life, all the good and the bad.
When the tour was announced in December 2015, it looked like I was going to have to miss it. Initially he didn’t announce a Seattle concert, and the closest show for me would have been in Oakland in March 2016. A true fan would have figured out how to get to Oakland from Seattle.
However, the real problem was that it looked like I would be somewhere in the process of an autologous stem cell transplant at that time. I felt sad that my condition, and scheduling, would prevent me from attending the show. As Bruce and I both get older, it isn’t clear how many more chances there will be for me to attend one of his shows.
It was also about this same time that I stopped responding to the Revlimid (lenalidomide), Velcade (bortezomib), and dexamethasone treatments that I’d started in November 2015. This was definitely a low point for me, but things turned around in January.
I started on Kyprolis (carfilzomib), Pomalyst (pomalidomide), and dex and had a good response, so good that my doctor decided to extend the treatment and push my stem cell transplant to June.
Days later, Bruce announced a March 24 appearance in Seattle. The fates aligned. I was responding well to the new treatment and I was going to see The Boss.
During the show, I felt happy, sad, thoughtful, hopeful, inspired, and alive.
At the conclusion of the roller coaster of emotions ushered in by the 20-song performance, Bruce summarized his work this way:
"One of the things 'The River' was about was time, time slipping away. And how once you enter the adult life, you chose your work, you chose your partner. The clock starts ticking. And you walk alongside not only the people that you’ve chosen to live your life with, but you walk alongside your own mortality. And you realize you have a limited amount of time to do your work, to raise your family, and to try and do something good. Try and do something good."
I felt as though Bruce was talking directly to me that night. How many times since my diagnosis a year earlier had I contemplated my mortality? What have I accomplished in my life? What regrets do I have? Could I have done more? Do I have time to finish what I’ve started?
How many times before my diagnosis did I think, “Oh well, today may slip away, but there is always tomorrow.” It shouldn’t take a cancer diagnosis, or a rock-and-roll show, to remind us that our time is finite. We owe it to ourselves to make something of every moment.
While some people might hear the negative in Springsteen’s remarks, in the context of all his music, I believe it is hopeful. Springsteen’s music encapsulates all of life's balances. Loss balanced by love. Challenge balanced by opportunity. Sadness balanced by unbridled joy. Life is full, but bounded by time. Every moment is valuable and part of the next.
But living well doesn’t have to be so deep.
Bruce closed his nearly four-hour show with a rousing, get-out-of-your-seat cover of the Isley Brother’s party tune “Shout.” Even after standing all night, my bones didn’t ache, I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t thinking about my chemo treatment the next day.
That night in Seattle, Bruce reminded me how important it is to let go and to dance and sing because it feels so good.
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Mark's Photo For The Month
Like the lyrics from “The Rising," the sky above North Twin Lake is a beautiful reminder of the balances of life. Moments after a torrential downpour and lightning storm, the winds calm and the sunset breaks through the clouds.
Photo copyright © 2013 Mark Pouley.
Mark Pouley 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 .
Great column Mark and a wonderful photograph! I too am a Springsteen fan but have never seen him live. When he comes to Dallas again I will now go. This line is so true: "And you walk alongside not only the people that you’ve chosen to live your life with, but you walk alongside your own mortality."
Thank you Mark! I grew up in New Jersey, and Tom was in Asbury during the pre-E Street years. Bruce has been a big part of our lives, and his music is still a go-to for us in joy and hardship.
And now I need to see when he's coming this way again!
Great column, Mark. Bruce is a genius!
Bruce has been a true lifeline for many of us. I have seen him over 20 times and only hope that I have a chance to experience his concert again.
I really enjoyed your column and the photo, Mark. I am a Springsteen fan and have been fortunate to see him on two occasions here in Indy. I actually saw "The River" tour back in 1980. Even though his songs may seem dark at times, I enjoy the songs about life's struggles.
The "clock" is always ticking for all. If there is a hidden "upside" with a diagnosis, it is one where we learn to number our days and live each one as best as we can. Just maybe we end up getting more meaningful mileage on the odometer than we might have otherwise?
Bravo, Mark! Great column! I share your passion for Bruce having seen over 60 shows going back to the 70s.
Back in September 2012, I caught a show at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. I did general admission, which means standing. For the life of me, I could not figure out why I needed to sit down or at least lean on something. Just standing left me very tired and full of pain. Needless to say I retreated to the back of the "pit" and watched the show leaning on a crowd barrier/fence.
A month or so later, I catch a show in Hartford. No general admission this time. Before every show, I go through my list of songs I haven't heard in concert. The list gets smaller as the years and tours roll by but "Incident on 57th Street" remains at the top. Finally at this show I get a beautiful, majestic, full band version of "Incident." I turn to my wife sitting next to me and say my life is now complete. Now I can die and go to heaven.
A month later, it's annual physical time for me and the rest is history. For a year or so afterwards, during the fog of diagnosis shock, induction therapy, stem cell transplant and recovery, that Hartford show really haunted me.
All is "good" now. I caught a bunch of shows last year and appreciate Bruce and the band more than ever.
"Janey Don't You Lose Heart" seems to be the unofficial Bruce cancer fight song. Check out YouTube, Springsteen, Janey Don't You Lose Heart, Albany 2012 for a wonderful dedication to a fan who just lost her mom to cancer.
Beautiful words, and your pictures also speak volumes. You capture the incredible beauty of God's creation.
I knew this column would bring out all the Bruce fans. I've been lucky enough to see Bruce live 6 times. I'm jealous of those of you (and many other fans) that have seen him many, many more times. And those of you that haven't been to a show, go! It is fun to share my experience with other Bruce fans - I know we truly share something special as fans.
borntorun (nice handle) - I saw Bruce in 2012 and had "Racing in the Street" on my list of songs I wanted to hear live. Bruce and the band, especially Roy Bittan, delivered an amazing, moving version of the song. I hadn't seen that version of "Janey" - thank you for mentioning it. Moving.
daryl - Before my diagnosis, I always heard people say facing their mortality changed their life as they learned to appreciate each day. It sounds almost cliché, but I've learned how true it is.
indymike - life can be dark, the music is about life.
Mark, what a great column! Music has always had a profound impact upon me as well. It seems like almost every major moment of my life has been underscored with music and lyrics, so I can empathize with your heartfelt description of "The River." I'm so glad that you were able to see the Boss in Seattle, and I hope that you'll be able to do so for many, many years to come.
Dear Mark, what a perceptive and even poetic column. On my bucket list is a Bruce Springsteen concert, and now I have even more reasons. Now I will have to look for "Janey". Also your photographs are beautiful. I am working on words and poetry for my expression. Keep writing.
Great photo, Mark. Happy to hear that you were able to get to see Bruce. Isn't it wonderful what music can do for us? I too am a Springsteen fan. He has had forty years of rocking and still going strong. Have you got his autobiography "Born To Run?" Looking forward to your next column. Stay healthy, listen to music.
That is really creative non-fiction, Mark! I haven't listened much to Springsteen, but am sure he is called 'The Boss' for a reason! I listened to 'Janey' and it is poignant. I just love the photo, and you must have seized the moment for that one!
Awesome column, Mark. How true that our lives are finite whether or not we have cancer. We are reminded of our mortality each and every day. Like you, we love Bruce Springsteen too, but have never actually been to one of his concerts. How fortunate you are. I am happy to hear that you are responding well to your current treatment regimen. Please continue to keep us inspired by your remarks and awed by your photography.
Great column. I nearly died on the street leaving a Delbert McClinton show last May; found out I had multiple myeloma and was in kidney failure. Lately I've been on RVD, too, with good results. I was told I am now in remission. I have to make choice of either continuing on medication or go for a stem cell transplant. I'm not rushing to make that choice. I missed many good concerts the past 8 months, but finally was able to get to Bryan Adams. Nothing makes you forget about your illness more than being at a great concert.
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