SURVIVORSHIP IS AN IRONIC GIFT. Throughout my life before Myeloma there was rarely a doubt or concern about the future. Since my Myeloma life began, simply waking up and engaging in daily activities takes on a higher level of meaning and value.

This is a good thing. I think I’m a better human because of it . More than any other emotion about this illness, I feel lucky.

Last week, Oct. 14, marked two years since my formal diagnosis and a full year since my release from hospital following my autologous stem-cell transplant. I’m still kickin’ – still as annoying as ever. I’ve consumed a fortune in exotic medicines. I’ve lost all my hair, and grown it all back. I’ve received every form of childhood and adult vaccination you can think of, to replace the immune system that my transplant wiped away. I know a whole lot about my personal biology that I never imagined knowing before. I know a whole lot more about my character too.

I definitely have a far greater appreciation of value of family and friends. So, for you, let me take a moment to bring you up to date on my physical condition, by the numbers:

Non-Zero. My disease is under control but not entirely gone. The Myeloma protein measurement often called M-spike (describing its appearance on a graph) is very much minimized, but not zero.

Twenty-one. The number of capsules of Revlimid I consume every 4 weeks to keep the illness in check. List price of this miracle drug, in my dosage tops $10K per cycle. Insurance covers it. Cool.

Six. Cool places I have been able to visit in the past year with my wife, Valerie and for work: New York, Chicago, Charlotte NC, Otis MA, Tokyo, Las Vegas.

Zero. Regrets about the strenuousness and inconvenience that being a Myeloma patient demands. I’m still here, ain’t I?

Positive status quo

Self indulgent? Well you might say this entire blog could be painted with that brush. Funny thing about intense medical treatments and the recovery process: It’s always so much about you, that you sometimes start thinking you are the center of the whirling universe. This is one of those paradoxical insights that is simultaneously 100% true and 100% false.

There’s also a sense of gratitude. Dozens of healthcare pros have had a hand in my treatment. Val has been a patient caregiver when I need one, and support from kids, other family and friends has been an ongoing gift.

I can live with this.