Dying

I must admit I hadn’t thought much about dying. It had occurred to me that it will happen but only as a background thought. Up until my cancer diagnosis I was feeling fairly bulletproof. I’ve been told by many that I look young for my age. When I tell people I’m over 60 they look at me like I’m lying. Most guess middle 40’s. Very flattering, but wrong.

And then along came the monster, cancer. I now think about death on a daily basis. I don’t know if that’s normal or not but I have to believe it is. I’ve met a lot of people that are not as sick as I am and they say the same thing.

I’ve been told that the survival rate for multiple myeloma is anywhere from a few years to over 10 or so. That’s a pretty wide range with seemingly no rhyme or reason to it. I read about a young man who died in about 2 years. I’ve also read about quite a few that have survived over 10 years and that’s with older technology and chemo medicines. Obviously a lot has been learned over the last 10 years and it’s paying off in longevity.

I do know that if you are diagnosed with MM at a later age in life you are more likely to survive longer. Odd but true. Young people don’t survive very long, whereas older folks do.

I really don’t know why I’m worried about dying. If you die you leave all the problems behind and everyone else has to deal with it. Maybe that’s why I have a problem with it. I love for everything to have an order and if you die too young you are messing up the order. Then again, perhaps it is best to die first. What I mean by that is I really don’t want to lose all the family and friends I have, first. I’d rather go first. Selfish? Maybe.

OK. So now back to reality. I’m going to do everything I can to survive this. I’m going to work toward remission and then hope that the powers that be find a cure for this disease. That’s the plan. I had plans to make it to 90 and I’ve got to figure out a way to survive 29 more years.