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If you’ve read any of my blogs, you know that I tend mostly to write about observations external to me. This piece is a little different. If you take the time to read this, I hope you don’t think it’s too self-focused.

I’ve written before about my illness. I’ve been battling Multiple Myeloma for over nineteen years. Just to review, Multiple Myeloma is a form of blood cancer. There is no cure; however, medical science has had much success at prolonging the lives of people with this horrible disease. I’m considered one of the “poster-worthy” stories. My long-term survival hasn’t been without its challenges. I won’t spend too much time going into details about the many challenges I’ve suffered. I’ll just say that there have been hospital stays, various infections and one brush with death. The latter involved an infection that entered my blood stream, which resulted in a long hospital stay. Five days of that stay was spent in a coma.

As I’m writing this, I’m asking myself why I’m penning these words. I would have to say my answer is because writing has come to be an avenue for me to think things out. I usually sit down at my keyboard with a rough idea, and a conversation starts. It’s a conversation with three individuals, my brain, my fingers and the keyboard. The conversation I want to invite you into now is the fatigue I’ve been experiencing the last few weeks.

As you might imagine, I’ve put a countless amount of chemicals into my body to battle the cancer that has invaded my biological space. The most toxic would have to be the chemotherapy-type drugs. For the last two and one-half years I’ve been taking a drug called Revlimid. This chemical is mailed to my home from a pharmacy outside of my state of residence. Someone must be home to sign for delivery when it arrives. It cannot be left on the stoop. To give you some idea of how toxic this drug is, consider some of the warnings that come with taking it: don’t break the capsules; it can cause birth defects; don’t share with anyone; it can cause other forms of cancer; fatigue can be a side effect. Somehow, I feel that if I were to remove the drug from the capsule and take it without the outer casing that allows for slow release into my system, I probably wouldn’t survive ingestion.

The things I just mentioned are but a few of the elements that have peppered my life with cancer. There’s little wonder on my part that I go through these periods of severe fatigue occasionally. I don’t mean to sound like an attendant at a pity party, but I’m tired. Whenever I get like this, I don’t even feel like going outside of the house very much. Chris is here with me, and I have her to assist me with whatever I need. Chris, I know you’ll read this, so let me publicly say your love and support are two things for which I’m most grateful. This fatigue from rising in the morning to retiring at night wears on body, mind and soul. The only thing that keeps me centered is my faith in God. I must draw on His promises, greatest among them for me is that He’s with me always. Yes, I’m tired but I’m not alone.

I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.