Steady As She Goes

Not wanting to clutter up your internet feeds, I have refrained from telling you that there isn’t much to tell. Not that having little to tell is bad! I’m still on the Revlimid, 14 days on and 7 days off. Ever so slowly, the numbers keep improving, moving towards normal range, but with a ways to go yet. My Akron doctor describes it this way: since the myeloma cells multiply and take up the space in the bone marrow and crowd out the red blood cells, the reverse is now taking place. As myeloma cells are killed off, it’s like the head honcho marrow overseer says, “Hey, we’ve got some empty space over here where we can add in another line of red blood cell production!” So my hemoglobin is up, and I’m feeling better. We continue with the Revlimid to see whether we might get all the way to “remission.” Remission isn’t cure; it is when the myeloma cells are no longer detectable even though we know they are still present.

Yesterday, my Cleveland Clinic doctor, Fred Reu, who makes the big decisions about my treatment, brought us up to date on some of the latest clinical trials and studies. Lots of exciting things are happening, with researchers attacking the disease from many different ways. One of the strange things about the Revlimid is that researchers don’t know how it works. The slide in the picture with Dr. Reu shows a new study trying to decipher how it works, still pretty mind boggling to me. Dr. Reu says that once we know how it works, we will be able to make it even better and more effective.

Talking with some of the people who attended Dr. Reu’s session, you soon find out that myeloma patients’ experiences are vastly different. Remember the steroid that I had to discontinue? A woman yesterday told me that that same steroid induced diabetes within her. Shortly thereafter, she found herself at the wheel of her car, sitting in the middle of a busy intersection in downtown Cleveland in a steroid or diabetes induced stupor with horns blaring from every direction! Everyone’s experience is unique, and we are thankful for the doctors, artists of a sort, who practice their art and lead us towards health.

So for now, it’s steady as she goes. The disease still lets me know that it is there and has taken a toll, but life goes on, and it is good.

May your Christmas bring you God’s hope and joy, and the assurance that God is with us through all of our struggles.