A toast.

One year ago yesterday I was officially diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma.  One year ago, our lives came to a halt.  WHAT, WHY, HOW, WHEN, WHERE?  All running through my mind, Bill's mind, Kristi's mind, Matt's mind, Kerri's mind, Paul's mind.  Trying to comprehend what is being said by my NEW doctor.  An oncologist.  What an oncologist???  Why??  This is not happening.  How can I cry any more tears?  When did this start??  Where all is the cancer?  How is this going to be treated?  Chemo med, steroids, shots of chemo.  Then a what?  A bone marrow transplant?  30 days away from home in a hospital.  A lot of information to be stored in my brain.  A lot of information about a treatable but not curable cancer.  A lot of information.

That was one year ago.  I have done the chemo meds, the steroids, the chemo shots.  I have been told the cancer was only located in my head.  I have been seeing Dr. Sarriera for a year now, my oncologist.  I have cried a lot.  Tears that flow unexpectedly some times.  I have been 8 months out of my bone marrow transplant.   I have learned a lot about Multiple Myeloma.  I have been brave.  I have been positive.  I have been strong.  I have been praying.

Yet one year later I am once again facing cancer.  Once again hearing those ugly words.  Once again told it's treatable but not curable.  Once again facing a treatment plan.  Once again crying.   Once again smiling on the outside but crying on the inside.   Once again scared.

Tomorrow, Monday the 10th of July, I start my new treatment plan.  This time it's radiation.  10 days of radiation.  Once again scared.

Bill poured him and I a glass of wine.  Then a toast.  His toast was to kick this cancer in the ass, get it the heck out of me and once again move on.

Quote:

If you are not okay, that's okay.  It happens sometimes.  But you have to tell yourself that things will be better tomorrow.  Even if they are not better tomorrow, keep telling yourself they will be.  Because eventually, tomorrow will be better.