Living and Dying with Multiple Myeloma (and other cancers)
I saw my pulmonologist this week (my sleep doctor). I told him that although I use my Bi-pap every night, I’m still tired all the time. He said there is a new, recently approved prescription drug made specifically for folks like me with sleep apnea.
It’s a mild stimulant that fights off sleepiness during the day. It’s called the Sleep Problem Exacerbation Eliminator Drug, or SPEED for short. I picked up my prescription today.
I continue with low dose chemo shots every two weeks. I see the Oncologist (or doctor’s assistant) every three months.
At some point between doctor visits I always conclude that next time I see her, I’m going to tell her that I’m exhausted more than ever, that my lagging, tingling feet are more full of sand than ever, and that the disconnect my body experiences when I stand from sitting very long is more apparent than ever.
Everything seems more than ever, and I don’t like it. But, when the time comes to actually roll out my list of complaints, I have to be honest and try to measure accurately.
Are my legs really heavier than ever? Feet more independent than ever? Ears ringing louder than ever? No, not really. It was nearly 100 degrees the day I wrote this. Maybe the temperature exaggerates my symptoms.
I can still walk. I function. I can speak clearly without raising eyebrows (a co-worker recently had a stroke and temporarily could not do this). I look, and right before my eyes there is a new blessing, like the birth of our first granddaughter.
And then there is another blessing, and another. They are unavoidable. They are countless. Realizing this again, I’m embarrassed about my relatively trivial complaints. I remain thankful to God.
I’ve seen some awesome pictures lately. Rich, textured, color saturated, detailed pictures that make me say, I want to produce pictures like that. I learned that I would need to begin shooting RAW (digital) files, and I would need to get serious about photo editing.
I looked at software and chose Photoshop Elements 13. It has both organizer and editor, will process RAW files, find duplicate (and similar) files; it employs facial recognition, and does batch conversions; exactly the features I was looking for.
I waded into it at first, then finally imported all my pictures. Even after deleting hundreds of duplicates (how did I accumulate HUNDREDS of dupes?), the program says I have 96,346 pictures. Is that possible?
I got my first camera when I was 13 years old. I just turned 63; that would be 50 years of shooting about five pictures a day. But, I didn’t take all of these pictures, I’ve been fortunate to have inherited quite a few old, family “shoe box” pictures.
I started transferring my VHS and Hi-8 videos to digital a long time ago, and I’m nearly finished. I scanned all my 35 millimeter slides to digital a few years ago. I back up all my pictures on an external drive. I’ve tried to organize them, but have had only limited success.
I’m sure I would be scanning, digitizing, sorting, and tagging all this media even if I didn’t have Multiple Myeloma. I don’t know if the five terabyte shoe box/drive of old pictures my grand-kids may find and open one day will be completely organized (does anyone live long enough to get completely organized?), but it will hopefully provide insight and answers to questions they might have about the old days.
It’s been over six months. I was past due for my first “check back” on the skin cancer surgery. The boarders of the map once stitched boldly to my face have mostly faded away along with the shock of hosting a third cancer.
The dermatologist was pleased with the healing, but decided to remove several “pre-cancerous” growths. I’m happy to report pre-cancerous is not as certain as pre-approved or pre-disposed.
It’s approaching two years since my stem cell transplant. I know I sound like a broken record commenting on the speed of the ticking clock, so I won’t say it (do people still know what broken record means?). I’ll just continue to enjoy every day of this remission.
It occurred to me that my growing stack of leave requests from work is a weight contender for the Greater Yamhill County phone book. Some pages represent more than one day, and not every page is for medical leave, but they continue to collect at a steady rate.