Maneuvering the Emotions of Multiple Myeloma

Most people are familiar with the grieving process. It wasn’t until I outlined this article that I could clearly see I have been through it.

I was in denial about cancer

My nurse practitioner (NP) called to report my MRI showed an unstable fracture between my shoulder blades — an unlikely spot without being in a terrible accident. We both chuckled when she mentioned cancer, and I responded, “No, I surely don’t have cancer.” My first step was denial. That was me eleven years ago.

I had a bed waiting for me in Denver. On the ride, I didn’t mention the word "cancer" to my husband or twin boys. Maybe not saying it would make it less true. All the while, my stomach was full of fear.

The neurosurgeon didn’t mince words after reviewing my MRI: “It’s not a matter of IF you have cancer; you DO have cancer.” The twins and my husband were NOT prepared. A lot of tears were shed that evening. The only thing I could do was pull up my bootstraps and do what I had to do.

My physical therapist found me in tears

Following an intense surgery on my back, entailing rods from my neck down, a grueling recovery began. Amidst the pain of recovery, I circled back around to denial. And then realization hit.

My physical therapist found me in tears. I had cancer. We spent that therapy session talking, while pulling the dead flowers out of the arrangements all around my room. I’ve always been touched that she knew what I needed that day — a different kind of therapy.

The pain of physical therapy was so difficult to overcome. I was learning to walk, dress, and shower, and all of it was painful.

Trying to find moments of joy amid the challenges

There were highlights, though, that kept me smiling: a wonderful housekeeper who charmed me each morning, and the mailman who brought me numerous letters from home every day. Those little tidbits brought sunshine to my heart, even with the knowledge of what I would face soon. As a nurse myself, the world of chemo terrified me. I tried to focus on recovery.

I fought off feelings of sadness as life continued at home. I so looked forward to the weekends with visits from my husband and boys, though I was missing out on so much.

I am forever grateful to my mom, who stayed with me each day. She used her nursing skills to ‘manipulate’ me into the shower, as well as other things that hurt!

Returning home to a supportive community

After 28 days inside, I was allowed to walk outside with my therapist. I was so happy!

Not too long after, I was discharged from the hospital. After receiving my first dose of the dreaded chemo, I was allowed to go home! My chemo could continue in my hometown in Nebraska.

There were burgundy ribbons—the ribbon for multiple myeloma—hanging all around my hometown as we drove through. More tears. I was home, and my husband had built a new deck on our house. What a wonderful surprise! Happy tears!

Moving through anger toward acceptance

I had moments of tears as I processed the reality of cancer. Anger hit a few weeks after getting home. I felt so angry that I had cancer! However, after one little outburst, anger didn’t seem to return.

I am now officially at least eleven years out from my diagnosis, as of my writing this. Over the years, acceptance seems to have just settled into my heart. It’s not been easy. Faith in God and the love of dear friends and family have carried me through.