The Dance

               Having multiple myeloma, as I am sure with any chronic disease, is a dance. You take two steps forward and one back. Or some days you take two steps back and one sideways. And then, there are those days when you take three or four steps forward, like my day yesterday.

               I met with my oncologist at Vanderbilt yesterday and here’s a recap:

1. My numbers looked good! My calcium, phosphorous, and magnesium were all in the normal range – the lower side of normal – but still normal.  Those numbers have been a see-saw for me, living mostly on the line between bad and acceptable.
2. My appointments are going to change.  Since my stem cell transplant, I have been going to Vandy monthly for blood work and if said see-saw was on the upswing, a shot. I’ve discussed the side affects of the shot in a previous blog, so I won’t repeat them here.  Yesterday, I got the news that my bloodwork and shot appointments would now coincide with my oncology appointments. That means every three or four months. I cannot tell you what a relief that was.
3. I can stop taking one of my prescriptions, the anti-viral. There are a couple of great things about that – one, my immune system is good enough to discontinue it, and two, one less pill is a mental victory.

Another small, but important victory this week is my hair. Since losing my hair I have been bald, had wildly curly hair, and most recently wiry hair that was uncontrollable. But, this past weekend, I ran my hand through my hair and realized it was soft. I cried. It was a twenty-month cry, a release of sorts, a feeling of normalcy. I said along the way that I didn’t care about my hair, and I really don’t. But, I do care about returning to normal.

It hasn’t all been steps forward, as is true in all dances.  I went back on gaberpentin this week for my feet. It felt like a step backwards, when in reality, it is more of a side-step. I went off it months ago, looking for a non-opiod solution to neuropathy. I tried a myriad of other solutions, but decided medication was my best option. Medication in and of itself is not a bad thing. However, somewhere in my mind there is a flag that goes up, a “danger Will Robinson” flag, if you will, when I have to take a medication. Only this flag says, “you are weak”. I wouldn’t say that to anyone else taking a medication but it’s always my first response for myself.

I’m working on being kinder to me.
The majority of steps in this dance have been small. But, honestly isn’t life lived in the small moments? The big moments are great – but few and far between. Every step in the dance is important. Backwards. Sideways. Forward. We draw strength from the steps back, rest from the steps to the side and find joy in the steps forward.

Oprah Winfrey said it best “Every day brings a chance for you to draw in a breath, kick off your shoes, and dance.”