Here we are again. It’s 4 a.m. and Daniel, my husband with myeloma, sleeps inter­mittently between inter­rup­tions from the hospital staff. His last dosage of Lovenox (enoxaparin) was admin­istered at 2 a.m., and they’ve just come in again to get his blood pressure, tem­per­a­ture, and urine output (which hasn’t changed since the pre­vi­ous inter­rup­tion).

Last time I wrote such a column, we were on the stem cell trans­plant floor at the cancer center, trying to understand Daniel’s in­fec­tion and immunity issues that hospitalized him for two days.

Tonight, we are in the emergency …

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how myeloma treat­ment is like being a contestant on a game show. You never know what’s lurking behind the screens once you get called up from the audience. It could be a new car, or it could be a “wah-wah-wah.”

Today, my husband Daniel com­pleted his 3^rd cycle of Kyprolis (car­filz­o­mib), Revlimid (lena­lido­mide), and dexa­meth­a­sone (Decadron) for his multiple myeloma. In a week, he will have his next round of myeloma labs, and then we’ll meet with his myeloma specialist to discuss his progress. That’s when we’ll find …

Lately, our life reminds me of one of those 80s movies where some fraternity pledge is getting spanked with a wooden paddle, and the wincing recruit says, “Thank you, sir! May I have another?”

My husband, Daniel, has just finished his second cycle of Kyprolis (car­filz­o­mib), Revlimid (lena­lido­mide), and dexa­meth­a­sone (Decadron) treat­ment for his multiple myeloma. He seems to be tolerating the regi­men reason­ably well, given the side effects that he could be having. However, we already have seen our fair share of chal­lenges, and they are intensifying with each session in …

It’s 2:30 a.m. The night sky is dark and vast, but the myriad high-rises of the medical center glow with hazy white outlines from this 18th floor window. I can see the helipad on the roof beneath me and the blinking blue-tipped antennas that guide pilots to the lifelines below.

My husband, Daniel, is finally sleeping in his bed, directly across from my watch­ful gaze, but I am too weary to sleep, so I watch, from this room with a view. As I look out, I remember other views we’ve shared: …

I am often surprised at the things that bring people together. Recently, I shared an article online about one of my favorite musicians, Elvis Costello. This sparked a conversation with fellow Beacon columnist, Nancy Shamanna, who also likes his music and wrote a column named after his song, “Watching the Detectives.”

She told me that she used to listen to that song over and over again before getting the results from her blood tests, thinking of the “detectives” in her blood that would indicate how she was doing with her myeloma. …

This is the time of year when we are looking for something. Perhaps you were one of the millions with your eyes fixed on a glimmering ball, counting down to the moment it would make its descent into our mortal space and start us off to a new year. Maybe you looked for victory as you cheered on your favorite team in a bowl game. Or, possibly you’re looking toward the Epiphany, to celebrate three Magi who followed a star in search of a newborn babe in a manger.

These last …

I’ve been a fan of figure skating since I was a child. I watched every Winter Olympics to see the skaters compete. I still like to go to the ice rink and watch skaters. When I’m there, I’ll close my eyes and listen, waiting for the "swoosh ... swoosh" as the skaters pass by with their colorful, spandexed gusts.

Recently, I took a rest from my errands in the mall and went to my favorite perch by the ice rink. This day there weren’t any figure skaters on the ice. What I saw …