At one point in our lives, whether as a parent or a child, we have all lived through the endless question and response dance of "Are we there yet?!?!" We all pretty much held our breath for the latter part of 2020 in hopes that 2021 would bring us closer to "there" - there being the end of Covid-19. And now that we are two full months into 2021, it would appear that "there" is in sight. Vaccines are starting to flow (slowly, but surely and with the prospect of speed increases). Indoor spaces are beginning to open up their capacities slightly (and cautiously). And society seems to be taking hold of masking and distancing precautions that can continue to serve as an insurance policy for all of our collective safety. It has been, and continues to be, a long struggle. But envisioning a plausible path to normalcy is evolving from the uncertainty of how to the potential of almost now. And that is indeed a good thing.
But this is a blog about me - my observations as well as my experiences. I am sharing guarded optimism with the rest of the world around the advances that are being made (albeit slowly) to beat back and beat down the ravages of coronavirus. And I am also sharing the realities of Multiple Myeloma (MM) with over 125,000 Americans. Sisters and brothers (and their loved ones) who understand that there is no vaccine, no magic bullet, or no known cure as of yet for this malady. The internet is full of information that attempts to quantify the possible longevity for a person with MM. The predictions can vary widely - from a few months to an almost incalculable future for years. Part of this fluctuation is because each MM patient's case is different - the severity of their disease and the responsiveness to their uniquely customized treatment. And part of the uncertainty of the long-term prognosis for a person with MM is that science could theoretically be one day away from a cure - any day now.
For those of us in the Multiple Myeloma cancer cadre the answer for now is, "Not yet." But in the same way that we all have just managed to live through a period of no known cure to now having one, I find myself even further inoculated with the vaccine that provides protection against pessimism and antibodies against anguish. Don't get me wrong - this totally sucks. So if I can manage the "ride" long enough, I (we) will get there. Maybe "there" will be defined less by a pure cure and more by the control of the disease progression. For the moment, I am here. And at this rate of health and optimism . . . I plan to be “there” too, when that time comes.
