As I was telling our cancer story in these weekly instalments, the cancer itself rudely interrupted back into our lives. For those of you who are not yet aware, my husband passed away from cancer in early July. 

It is early days yet, not even a full month. I tell my friends and family that when I have my moments, I let them happen. Keeping busy is therapy for me. I believe our story, although no more special than anyone else’s cancer experience, is worth telling — mainly because James’ handling of the diagnosis and subsequent treatments could be helpful to others.

To resume the telling, going back to October 2014, neither of us had ever heard of multiple myeloma. It is a form of cancer that affects your blood, so there is no way to surgically remove it. There is no cure, it is only treatable.

Phrases such as plasmacytoma, regression, progression, radiation, and of course the fear inducing chemotherapy words were being tossed at us as part of our daily interactions. It was a new language, all Greek to us. 

Overwhelmed, we were still thinking “Cancer? Him? Are you sure?”

There were options of course. The medical professionals began right away to explain our choices. Refusing treatment was an option. Radiation and chemotherapy were options. For multiple myeloma, a blood transfusion was an option.

Each of the these choices had advantages and disadvantages. But how do you decide when you have no idea how to choose? Best results? Shortest treatment? Least side effects? There are no guarantees. None.

Eventually we asked our oncologist, “Which option would you choose?”

He gave us an honest answer. Even though the blood transfusion would theoretically deliver the best possible result it required a 6 week hospital stay, in isolation. And then for nine months you feel like a truck hit you. 

Thanks to James’ running routine the diagnosis of multiple myeloma was made relatively early. Many multiple myeloma patients go undiagnosed for a longer period of time. Aches and pains are contributed to ‘getting older’. No one thinks of tumours. (See blog on Zebras…)

We had already come to trust our oncologist. He recommended radiation and chemotherapy. The transfusion, he said, would be like hitting the cancer with a sledgehammer when a rubber mallet would suffice.

A little bit of multiple myeloma is like being a little bit pregnant, but we agreed with him and took the chemo option. 

It is a brave thing to hold out your arm for that first chemical infusion. More on that next week.

Stay safe everyone.

Anne Milne is an every Sunday blogger.  Temporarily, this blog will be focussed on telling our cancer story. Please share if you know someone who may benefit. Facebook or Twitter.