As I wrote in my last column, I was at the Mayo Clinic in February for both an oncology check and a cardiology consult.

The cardiology consult I passed with flying colors. I do not have pulmonary hypertension; I do not have amyloid damage to my heart. To borrow from poet Archibald MacLeish, I indeed have a heart and it is in solid shape.

The oncology picture is muddier. I have not relapsed, which is great news. But the Kyprolis (carfilzomib) regimen I am on …

Thanks to Facebook, I have the perfect phrase to describe the current status of my health and my myeloma.

“It’s complicated.”

For the non-Facebook users out there, one of the (many) bits of personal information you can share with your Facebook crowds is the vagaries of your love life. Married, Engaged, In a relationship, In a domestic part­ner­ship, and other phrases are all choices in your personal profile.

And so is “It’s complicated.”

Boy, is it ever.

Right around the time you will be reading this column, I will be back at …

The word “port” has multiple definitions, ranging from a rich, fortified wine, to the left side of a ship, to a town or city where ships load and unload cargo. Cleveland, Ohio, has a port. So does Portland, Oregon, despite being 90 miles inland. During a storm, ships seek a port – preferably a safe one – and are willing to settle for the proverbial “any port” in which to ride out the bad weather.

“Port” can also mean an access to a system. In my case, my (relatively) new port provides access to …

I have noticed a difference, one I may have mentioned earlier, but one which is becoming more pronounced in recent months. Given my lab results, my myeloma seems to be slipping back into remission. I am grate­ful for that. But after 11 years of the disease and treatments, my body is wear­ing down. To borrow from Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal, the night brigade has been out there busily taking down the perimeter defenses.

As a result, I have an increased awareness of time slipping through my fingers. I am like a child …

Earlier this month, I held my third cancer party.

I threw my first cancer party when I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma 11 years ago. It was a big party. A really big party. It went on for hours, everyone brought food and drinks, and people were packed against the walls of my apartment.

What a great night.

Almost three years ago, when I relapsed and started Velcade (bortezomib), I threw another cancer party. I had lost physical ground over the years, I wasn’t happy about the Velcade, and it …

I am now the proud possessor of a Rochester Library Friends’ Bookstore punch card.

I was back in Rochester, Minnesota, in September for a quarterly check at the Mayo Clinic. I had arrived in town from Oregon a few days before my appoint­ment, to give myself the opportunity to collect my urine in relative comfort and without the oversight of the TSA. My husband Warren had not yet joined me from Ohio. So exploring the town on foot, albeit never too long or far from my hotel room, was the order of …

I was never a fan of the late Joan Rivers, but all the same I’m going to use her trademark line.

Can we talk?

Many of us who live in the myeloma subdivision of Cancer­land deal with a re­peating issue that is so clearly differ­en­tiated along gender lines I am sur­prised no one has raised the issue with the feds.

Women, you all know what I am talking about: the 24-hour urine collection to check for protein.

Surely this was a diagnostic test conceived by and for male patients. In fact, the …