Myeloma Dispatches: Observing Peonies
A three-story high evergreen grows in the corner of my yard. The majestic tree shades a small patch of the front yard and continually drops loads of pine needles, creating an acidic soil. The second story of our townhouse looms over the little yard, so little rain reaches the soil.
In the 30 years we have lived here, I have battled these adverse conditions to try and grow flowers. After many failures, only four perennials return each spring to provide a little greenery for the front of my home.
In the outside corner, farthest away from the massive tree, red sticks protrude from the soil. Within a few days, I notice that the red sticks have changed into six-inch stalks with red buds at the tip. Yes, the sticks are alive. My peony bush is growing again.
The nature of my multiple myeloma has pushed me to dramatically change my approach to life. When I was diagnosed, I was totally immersed in my career as a professor of nursing in a mountain community college. After the stem cell transplant, I realized that my life could be shorter. At the time, the oncologist gave me a five-year prognosis because my type of multiple myeloma is high risk due to its genetic profile: deletion 17p and translocation t(4;14). Over the next two years, I moved from a full-time job to part-time to full retirement. Six years later, I am still here, surviving multiple lines of treatment.
During many of these last six years, I don’t remember noticing the rebirth of my peony plant. Somehow the peony kept returning even with little water or attention from me.
Now I notice. Now I pay attention.
With a little research I learned that peonies are hardy plants that can thrive up to 50 years. They also require a cold winter to regenerate, and can grow in areas up to 7,000 feet. My town is located at 6,250 feet in the Colorado Rockies, clearly a sign that my plant is hardy and resilient.
Learning more and observing the peony made me more aware of how my myeloma journey has changed me over the years.
One obvious observation is the resilience of the plant. It survives harsh winters, little water, and acidic soil, and it develops into a beautiful plant with lush, pink blooms every spring. It makes me remember that I have survived six years of relapses with weakness, bleeding problems, and shortness of breath. Seven months ago, I wasn’t sure what treatment was left for my disease. I started treatment with Darzalex (daratumumab), Velcade (bortezomib) and dexamethasone (Decadron). Now I am enjoying a new remission. I may not bloom pink petals, but I am enjoying walking, swimming, hiking, and traveling. Like the peony, I am resilient.
A gift the peony has given me is how to pay attention to what’s happening around me. When I was working hard in a demanding career, I focused on accomplishing goals each day. Many details of life escaped me. I didn’t notice spring until trees and flowers were in full bloom. I missed the beginnings, such as the red stalks of the peony growing taller each day. I am paying more attention to my family and friends. I practice living with intention.
This morning I had my blood drawn for myeloma markers for the first time in two months. Next week, I see my oncologist and resume monthly Darzalex infusions. I could worry about results of the blood draw, because as we know myeloma cells multiply silently. Some days, I doubt my current health. I waste hours worrying about the future. Now, if I begin to doubt my future, I walk outside and observe the growth of the peony stalks.
Over the weekend, we had a late spring snow in the mountains. Tulips and daffodils were beaten down by the snow. Yet the peony continues to grow; the stalks are taller than yesterday. Today it is a sunny day with blue skies. I am surrounded by leafy green trees, crab apple trees in pink and red dresses.
Today the peony and I are thriving.
Maureen Nuckols is a multiple myeloma patient and columnist at The Myeloma Beacon. You can view a list of her previously published columns here.
If you are interested in writing a regular column for The Myeloma Beacon, please contact the Beacon team at .
I wish you all the best and pray your test results are good. I myself may be facing my first relapse. This is one sneaky disease and one we need to stay on top of!
Hi Maureen,
It is nearly six years for me too, although including the undiagnosed illness it is nearer ten years.
How has my attitude changed since January 2012? Following my initial treatment back then, I almost felt that I had been given a written guaranty for another five or six years of life, such was the confidence of the hematologist.
Now I feel that the guaranty is close to expiring, which has caused my confidence for the next few years to diminish somewhat. But everything is relatively calm, the myeloma seems to be stable although I am taking Imnovid (pomalidomide) as a maintenance treatment.
Like most people, I used to find that my birthdays were coming much too fast! Now I look forward to them, I take some pleasure in becoming older because I see every day as another battle won against the illness and every year is a victory.
Thank you for your regular articles, I always enjoy reading them.
Best wishes my friend,
Victor L
I love your voice, your spirit, and reading your columns. And I am so happy to hear that you are doing well!
The peonies all around here are blooming early (well, what used to be early). We were at the red stick stage a few weeks ago.
I'm with you, Maureen - be resilient, savor the day, and bloom where you are planted!
This is a nice column and got me thinking about peonies too! I have a large plant that is about 35 years or even older; it puts out fragrant, pale pink flowers. I have to hold it up with a wire hoop with three legs and have to do this before the plant gets too large. I like that plant so much that I planted a few more peonies. They can take a few years to really take hold and blossom. Some gardeners have said that they wouldn't plant a lot of peonies since if they all bloom at once in the spring then there wouldn't be other flowering plants nearby for the rest of the season, but I think I have enough perennials to fill in the blanks later. They are a really tough, hardy plant, which is a really good metaphor for us, Maureen! Mine are still coming up , and the trees are just starting to leaf out. It is great to be out in the garden again, after a long, cold winter.
Maureen, I am in Toronto, Canada, my peonies are in full leaf - isn't it wonderful to see new beginnings in spring? I pray that your blood results will be ok. I will be at oncology next week for my blood work, always a concern!! Enjoy your peonies as they are growing and when they bloom. I love to cut them and have them in a vase too, such beautiful flowers. Take care, you are a great inspiration to me, the way you get back onto your feet and do those activities you love.
Hi, Maureen!
Wishing you good results and happy times enjoying nature, including the hardy, pretty peonies. They'll be blooming just for you!
Thanks for your column and your openness and sharing.
I wish you all the best. I am in my sixth year. I asked my doctor if you could get me into old age. I was 80 at the time, now I am 85. I'm not so sure, be careful what you wish for. I can still hit a golf ball, and I get outdoors as much as I can to watch the flowers and birds. I look forward to your column, and you are in my prayers.
Hello readers, once again your comments make me bloom.
Susan, I have managed at least 4 relapses, each time there is a new drug to make a new miracle. I believe this will be true for you too.
Victor, I do remind myself daily that there is no guarantee for our life with or without this disease. Sounds like you are living a resilient life.
Rebecca, I love writing these articles, it helps me to bloom. Thank you for your kind words.
April, I hope you are no longer treading water. I am with you in spirit.
Nancy, I wanted you to know that I got my mammogram yesterday, waiting for results. You made that happen. You are my model for a tough, hardy, yet blooming person.
Diana, Thank you for the words of encouragement. My peonies are still just leafy stalks. My blood work was good, but the oncologist recommended that we begin monthly infusions of Darzalex.
Sylvia, Thank you for your kind words. Once the peonies bloom, the beauty will be for all of us.
Dick, What a wonderful story. I thought I just wanted to get to 75 and now I am turning 73. Sounds like you manage" old" age just fine.
What a nice piece! Then again your writing is always so good. My onc gave me a "vacation" from maintenance as my numbers began rising slowly since last fall. However, he says I will be back on treatment before the year's out. Like you, multiple myeloma has made me more aware and appreciative of my surroundings -- from what grows in our yard, to the family and friends that make life such a joy. That's not a bad thing at all!
I also live in Toronto. We bought our house 5 years ago. We moved in on our anniversary, October 1. Had no idea what was in the garden. In the spring, 4 big peony bushes appeared, two in the back and two in the front. Beautiful! Each year they appear in spring, it's a treat for the senses. I don't do anything, can't take any credit for them
I am 7 years into my myeloma journey. Hope to hold off starting treatment until the fall and enjoy one more summer in our tiny city house without the burden of treatment, appointments, and all the side effects. Fall seems to be the transition time for our family.
Hi Maureen, Thanks very much for this column. I should certainly do a better job of learning from you and the peonies and not worrying so much about health, work, etc. etc.!
Hi Maureen,
You and I have known each other a long time. I have always admired your drive and sense of purpose. In recent years, I am in awe of your sense of living with intent. You inspire me to also to live mindfully and put aside the taskmaster in me into retirement. May your peonies push through and bloom brightly for many springs to come. Love, Hank
Maureen, what a wonderful column this month! Your beautiful peony is a reminder to us all that there is joy to be had in the life-affirming walks amongst the flowers, and that we need a lot more of those precious, sun-dripped moments, and a lot less of the worry.
Hoping for good lab results - hang in there!
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