Bone ache has increased its presence since the last blog post in early February. It makes one weary, and the angel of death suddenly feels more present than ever. It’s not that I am on death’s door. At least not yet. But it’s gnawing its way closer. (At least, that’s how I feel.)

My energy is decreasing. By 7 PM, the bed looks wonderfully beautiful and seduces me with potential dreams of another world. I want to eat, but I cannot. And I hunger for sustenance, but eating makes me nauseous. “Forty-one pounds,” I muttered to myself. “Wow. Forty-one pounds lost since mid-October 2022.”

I’ve read a lot of blogs and watched a fair number of YouTube videos on Multiple Myeloma and or Plasmacytoma. Truthfully, it’s natural to want to know what other people who experienced such pain think and feel. But I don’t l know why I watch such videos. Intuitively, maybe I hope there might be a pearl of wisdom in it somewhere. I certainly don’t look for a cure. (Spoiler alert: there aren’t any.) Some talk about appreciating each day by detailing every reason to fight, suck it up, and remain positive. And such perspectives may be great, but I reside in reality. I want to know what’s next. However, no one talks about the elephant in the room — Death.

When reading such blogs, part of me wants to say death is with us. I’m unsure how close it is to me, but I feel it. I am not delusional. At least, I don’t believe I am. Technically, I could be dead in three months or ten years with multiple myeloma. Yup, quite a variance. But I want to talk about dying. I want others to talk about death. What does passing mean? How can we handle it better? And, of course, how will those whom I love carry on? Instead, most of us believe that we can treat our bodies however we wish and that the magic of modern Western medicine would save us in our time of need. But, tragically, most find otherwise.

But today is another day. Likewise, cancer is my job. It’s a day of medical tests, more doctor appointments, balancing the checkbook (or what’s left of it) and more of the battle. And right now, I am a slow-moving car crash. I will endure one way or another.