I've been thinkin' that it's high time we updated our header here at MM For Dummies, so I went ahead and took the liberty of doing just that. Check it.
As Phil and I mentioned in our video blog a couple weeks back, we've been cruising through the summer, trying to figure out what "normal" looks like for us post-treatment. Well, I say post-treatment but Phil is still on maintenance chemo... so I mean the BMT nonsense of yore. 'Memba this?
Chemo these days is a pill that Phil takes at home, so we're a long way from the transplant floor. His pills make him tired and he has some neuropathy which are just about the only side effects. (I'm not on any medication and I have more side effects than he has... i.e. mood swings, laziness, attitude problems, voracious appetite, caffeine cravings, griping about the mess, etc. But anyway.)
We've had some awesome opportunities this summer to connect with the cancer community here in Ann Arbor and were also able to attend some fundraising events for UMHS, The Make-A-Wish Foundation, and the LLS. (Warning: probably do not bid on silent auction items after your second glass of wine. Anyone want to go see a comedy show?) These stories, these lives... the challenges that some people- like some of you- must face day in and day out is humbling to hear. Yet through it all, the resiliency of the human spirit is so incredibly beautiful.
When we started this blog in 2008 I would pore over the very few myeloma blogs that were out there, looking for new content, predictions, data, research... anything that would give me the definitive answers that I craved. I didn't find any answers, but instead we found friends. No one ever believes that cancer (or an accident, or any type of illness) can happen to you or someone you love. But it happens every day. And if you're reading this, then tragically you know how true that is.
BUT. You also know that there is hope out there, and much of that hope lies in the relationships that are formed through shared experience. We are grateful for the part each one of you has played in providing hope to us. We're just trying to figure out how to pay it back. Or forward. Or sideways. Somewhere.
Tomorrow is Phil's one year post-first-transplant appointment. It's so hard to believe that it's already/only been a year. Last year a wise friend told us that, once Phil was through treatment, it would just feel like the whole thing had been a bad weekend. And she was right. Except for the having-a-baby-in-the-middle-of-it part. That was pretty rad.
We're still keeping you guys updated through this here blog from time to time, even if there's not much to tell. Because hopefully that will be an encouragement to you. No news is good news, but good news is the best news. Pretty much.