Update

A few days ago I saw my oncologist. I hadn't seen him since the beginning of December. I'm always nervous when I have these appointments. I may think everything is going well, but I get those little doubts in the back of my head. So many other patients that I'm in support groups with have had their MM come back around 6 months after transplant. I am at 8, almost 9, months after transplant.

I got to my appointment a few minutes early and there was somebody ahead of me. I talked to the receptionist Jo for a little bit then I saw Jessica. I stumped her that she forgot who she was going to call back. Finally I saw Kellie and she called me up. We talked about Brandon and Eric and the accident we just had. We also talked about Amber. Amber was another cancer patient who was diagnosed around the same time as I was with a different cancer and while pregnant. She too had a son. Our sons are the same age. But she, unfortunately, lost her battle the night before my appointment. I never had the opportunity to meet her since when I went to the support group, she was in the hospital and when she went, I was at Stanford for my transplant. I'm saddened. I'm so sad for her husband and son. Her son will not get to know his mom except for in pictures and stories from her family and friends. She will never get to watch her son grow into a young man. It's something I've been afraid of and it was her reality. And I am so sorry for everybody involved.

Finally Dr. H came in. He told me how I was looking good (even though I was sick) and then got right to it. See? Dr. H doesn't beat around the bush. He gets right to the point. He told me everything was looking great. Everything was staying level. Plateaued. My numbers are not fluctuating very much either way. It's 8 months post transplant and 18 months post diagnosis and I am doing well. 18 months ago we didn't know what my fate would be. Maybe 3-5 years as the statistics say. But I feel like I've got a lot longer. I have decades. I feel like my positive attitude and Eric and Brandon, are what keeps me going and fighting.

I will keep on fighting this nasty cancer. I will keep fighting to be here to watch Brandon grow into a wonderful young man. I will fight to watch him graduate high school, college, get married, and have children. Eric will not be a single father. A widower. He will have his wife there until we are old and that is our time. Death is inevitable, but not now. Not anytime soon. I am a fighter. I am fighting.