It’s been so long now since I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma (11 years) that I sometimes forget that everyone around me isn’t in the same, or a similar, boat. This is particularly true given that it’s been so long since I was last in intensive treatment; I had my stem cell transplant 10 years ago in January. As a result, I generally feel like I’m trundling through life pretty much like everyone else, and I tend to forget that diseases like multiple myeloma are not all that widespread.

Occasionally, though, something comes along to remind me that I am not exactly in the “normal” category.

Of course, seeing a mention of multiple myeloma or Revlimid (lena­lido­mide) in the newspaper and knowing what these words mean is one sure sign of being an outlier.

Another sign is your reaction to the phrase “It’s like [insert topic here] on steroids.” To the general public, this phrase refers to anabolic steroids, as used by athletes to bulk up their muscles. However, to myeloma patients, it most often brings to mind the cortico­steroid dexa­metha­sone (Decadron), which has an entirely different set of effects. To me these days, something being described as “on steroids” implies not being able to sleep, turning alternately yellow and red in the face, being either a bit “hyper” or “low,” plus of course becoming argu­menta­tive and extremely hungry. None of this, unfortunately, has anything at all to do with building up musculature.

Another time when I realize that multiple myeloma is out of the mainstream is when I go to the local blood testing center to have my blood drawn the week before a checkup with my oncologist.

For over a year, I had monthly checkups, which definitely made me a regular. Sometimes when I enter the testing center, it reminds me of the old sitcom “Cheers” with its theme song line “Where everybody knows your name.” There was a time when all four staff members greeted me warmly when I arrived. It really was like those scenes in “Cheers” when George Wendt’s character arrived and everyone at the bar shouted “Norm!”

Getting your blood drawn so frequently that they remember you, plus having such obscure tests ordered that you have to help them find them in their computer system, definitely does not happen to “regular” people.

In similar vein (ha ha), a couple years ago I went for a flu shot at work. The nurse administering the shot told me to relax, presumably either because I was fidgeting, or perhaps because she says that to everyone. I was very tempted to tell her, “This tiny little needle really doesn’t worry me. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve been stuck over the years?,” but somehow managed to contain myself. Actually, I don’t know the precise answer to this question, but I occasionally do a rough mental estimate and come up with a number some­where between 50 and 100. Again, this is probably not the experience of regular folks.

And then there are the unsolicited letters for life insurance that we receive in the mail every once in a while. These offers seem very attractive because they do not require a medical. Instead, all you have to do is “just answer a few health questions.” The clear implication is that anyone would be able to give the right answers to these questions, and therefore qualify.

Every time one of these offers comes, I can’t resist trying the questions to see how I will do.  It always starts out alright:

“Have you used nicotine in the past 12 months?” No. So far so good.

“Are you in hospital or in an assisted living facility?” No. Looking good.

“Have you been convicted of a felony?” No. I’m feeling lucky.

“Have you been convicted of DUI in the past 5 years?” No. This is too easy.

But then:

“Have you been treated for cancer in the past 5 years?” Yes. Oh well. Close but no cigar.

This is the sort of thing that definitely makes you realize that you’re not in the mainstream.