The first time I went public with Parkinson’s, my bladder made the announcement. I have not talked about Kappa Light Chain Deposition Disease. It’s the enemy within. It’s the cancer that will likely kill me.
Consider this the follow-up nobody asked for. You’re welcome.
When I signed off in April, I did not check my email. Upon logging in this afternoon, I read several emails from readers requesting an update. So, I will start by stating that I feel a little like Josie Rubio (A Pain in The Neck cancer blog), who said to some effect that she was beginning to feel good and thinking of returning to work. Of course, Ms. Rubio never returned.
Television is a vast pornographic wasteland of scam health products. I received free samples of Balance of Nature, green seaweed tablets from Asia, and other supposed natural health items. Forbes reviewed Balance of Nature, noting that it has received warnings from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) of unverified health claims. I also received an article (and subsequent invitation) to attend a consultation with a Missouri practitioner who provides stem cells. I declined the offer after noting that state investigators once determined the clinician’s cell-based regenerative medicine diagnosed and treated bogus illnesses and repeatedly ordered unnecessary and excessive lab tests. However, the truth is I want to die.
November 13, 2023, seems like forever. [Between then and now] That’s 72 days. That’s two months and 11 days (seventy-two days) since my last post. The time variance seems like forever. Or, borrowing from David Whyte’s Heart Aroused, I turned my head for only a moment, and it appeared forever. I missed my Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve posts. It’s been a hectic 72 days.
I don’t think about overcoming cancer. I can’t. Multiple Myeloma is undefeatable. Most days, one can hardly recognize that I fight past overwhelming fatigue and nausea. I do it because I have no choice. I am just an average Information Technology worker trying to make it until 65 when federal healthcare benefits become available. I could work from home, but I chose to push myself. The question therein is, “Why?”
Pain is swallowing my body. Walking 250 steps or more brings extreme tightness in the groins both of both legs and lower calves. To that, former WGN radio host Al Lerner would commically retort, ‘a groin is a terrible thing to pull.’ Spasms crept into my right bicep, forearm, through to my fingers, and radiates significant pain when lifting anything above the shoulder. Through it all, I keep reading previous posts on ‘What’s a good life’ and asking myself, “Am I living it?” That exchange is often followed by remembering something from my past, usually negative, and trying to mentally reconcile that person looking back through the mirror.
Work, exhaustion, movement. Work, exhaustion, movement. If someone asked about my life’s cycle, that would be it: ‘work, exhaustion, movement.’ It’s no epic mystery. And at the end of the day, most cancer patients probably believe few know their cycle or the actual intricacies of living day-to-day or existence. There’s no magic. There’s no spark. No one knows what it’s like to sit in some poorly designed cancer waiting room and have some clinician take away the last remnants of their life.
