In my column last month, I shared details of my plan to push the envelope and undergo back-to-back, or tandem, autologous stem cell transplants.

I made a forceful point in that column about the importance of living in the moment; not looking ahead to the point that I lost precious days in the weeks leading up to the second transplant.

For the most part, I was pretty good at living in the moment. For example, I squeezed in a trip to Madison with my wife Pattie to see a University of …

As I approach the seven-year anniversary of my Thanksgiving 2008 multiple myeloma diagnosis, I wanted to share a little bit about the results from my most recent myeloma check-up.

But first, I’d like to tell you about some of the quirky things that have recently happened:

It was not once, not twice, but four times in the span of two weeks that I’d been contacted by friends that I haven’t seen in years. Their common message was how sorry they were to learn that I was faring so poorly in my fight …

I have always been fascinated by contradictions, especially in people.

I am myself a walking contradiction. Generally, I am as analytical and ob­jective as they come. Just give me the facts, do the research, and come to a conclusion. If it cannot be explained scientifically, then it does not exist.

And yet I am extremely superstitious. I won’t pick up a “lucky penny” un­less it is face up. One time I picked up a tails-up penny on my way into a court­house for a trial, and we lost a case that everyone, …

Fall 2015. I sit on my back porch, relaxing under trees brilliant with fall colors. I’m feeling good. I challenge myself to remember my myeloma past.

In January 2011, Colorado was experiencing a record cold spell, and I was not feeling good. I had survived two rounds of aggressive induction therapy, the first leg of my cancer triathlon. Lab values confirmed my blood was scrubbed clean of myeloma cells.

It was time to prepare for the next stage of the cancer triathlon, the stem cell collection. The induction therapy cleared my body of …

During my husband Daniel’s last specialist visit, I noticed a young couple sitting in the waiting room that I hadn’t seen before. They appeared to be in their late thirties and were nicely dressed, like they had just come from work. They looked ill at ease with their environment, as if this was all something new for them.

Since the woman’s plastic bracelet matched my husband’s, I could guess why. She sat there stoically, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her posture was a portrait of calm, statuesque equanimity. …

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 …

Mental health professionals would probably scoff at my self-diagnosis, but by most definitions of the word, I think I have become a hypochondriac.

My general understanding of hypochondria is that it is an unusual or ex­cessive concern about your health; a tendency to fear or imagine that you have illnesses that you do not actually have.

One description of hypochondria states that it persists even after a phy­si­cian has evaluated a person and reassured them that their concerns about symptoms do not have an underlying medical basis, and that there is no …