OK, here's the deal with a little history.

In November of 2005, Ed and I moved to Seattle. Both of us had new jobs here and we fell into a life of work, play, and home renovation that we both enjoyed. Life was good.

Almost a year ago, I started noticing that my endurance was starting to wane. I was far from becoming a couch potato or a keyboard jockey.... in fact, the neighbors still thought I was the hardest working human on the block.... but I knew something was wrong. I had no real stamina, my pulse would rise if I did anything strenuous for very long, and in general, I just felt "off".

I actually suspected that I had a blocked artery and/or some sort of cardio-pulmonary disease. I could exhaust myself to the point that I could sense myself almost blacking-out...... simply not enough blood and oxygen to the brain. Slightly elevated cholesterol, 20 years of smoking 3 packs a day (quit 10+ years ago), and my 50 years on the planet made me think down a common path....... blocked arteries.... maybe I'd need a bypass in a few years.

Then about 6 months ago, things started to slide downhill rapidly, but I didn't recognize the change as anything drastic. Basically I just became unmotivated, lethargic, and unconcerned with the things that went on around me. I blamed most of this on my job...... I hated (HATED) working for Hologic and it showed in my attitude and my actions. Bingo, one thing follows the other, and my hatred of the job spread into apathy about home renovation and many other aspects of my life.

All this time, I was a bear to live with. I was grouchy, unhappy, and negative..... and I expressed myself often. Not a good thing. Thankfully Ed is a saint.

So Ed and I bought a boat. It was originally supposed to give us an activity to do together.....the boat always made Ed smile..... and we had fun when we were out on the water. But toward the end of one of our days on Lake Washington, I tripped over something on the deck and fell against the console with my ribcage. It hurt and I still believe I cracked a rib or two...... Believe it or not, it was a blessing.

The injured area tended to cramp spontaneously. It was a charley-horse type of cramp that was amazingly painful.... I saw a doctor about it and he determined that I'd bruised a nerve bundle, but that it would go away soon. He warned me not to tape my ribs up (to prevent pain) because the taping can actually cause pneumonia due to the accumulation of fluid.

So I didn't tape up, but the pain required that I sleep on one side of my chest and not breathe very deeply. I believe this brought on a case of bronchitis that ultimately raised the flag I'm sailing under now.

Ok, so the bronchitis started it's standard march for me..... lungs, then throat, then a slight nasal infection.... and usually, this would be the end of it.... One week of feeling lousy, but predictable and easily overcome.

But there was a twist. The creeping crud never left my nose. I was strapped with bloody noses, enormous discharges, and my endurance was measured in minutes, not hours.

I'd been to Urgent Care on two successive weekends for the bronchial part of this... and finally after a research call in Everett, I wandered back into Urgent Care on a pleasant Friday afternoon. I felt like absolute dog shit...... I hurt, I had no energy, and I was really tired of feeling bad.

Urgent Care took a blood test and documented my complaints.... a few minutes later they advised me I was going to Virginia Mason Hospital by ambulance. No, I couldn't drive myself. No, Ed couldn't drive me. I was going to travel with an EMT staff "just because".

It seems I was anemic. Anemic like "you shouldn't be standing here", "are you sure you're not dizzy?", and "Oh my god, you need to sit down" anemic. So I looked at the numbers..... and sure as hell, I only had enough blood in me to run the average 8 year old. The numbers were scary.

No wonder the doctor said I'd be getting a transfusion once I arrived.

Ok, so over the next three days, I got 4 units of blood. The blood made me feel better, but the 4 units only brought my blood counts half-way to the bottom of normal. I got a ton of blood tests done and I ate at the whim of the doctors...... here's the tally of tests.

A 5 vial blood draw every 8 hours for 3 days.
2 X-rays
One camera down my throat.
One camera up my ass.
2 CTs. One with barium contrast and the other with injected contrast.
One Ultrasound.

From all this, they determined that I had an enlarged spleen and that I could go home until the rest of the blood work came back. I was still in pain, but they gave me a scrip to alleviate the misery. While I was in the hospital, I could have morphine every two hours... now I'm stuck with 2 Vicodin every 4 hours. Whatever. (The enlarged spleen is the cause of the pain, and the enlargement is caused by the spleen over-working to help clear my blood of bad blood cells.)

So I went home and made an appointment to see my PCP ASAP that week. I saw him at about 2:30 pm on Wednesday, September 13.

His response was simple and to-the-point. "Looks like multiple myeloma." It's a cancer of the bone marrow that causes the marrow to produce some red blood cells and a an uncontrolled number of one specific type of white blood cells. Normally, the marrow produces a spectrum of different white blood cells that help fight infection... but in my case, only one type is being produced in unlimited quantities, somewhat at the expense of red blood cells.

So what does that really mean? One, my body won't be able to fight infection very well. Two, I'll have a tendency toward "hypercalcemia" because my bones will be dissolving into my bloodstream. And three, I'm going to have one hell of a roller coaster ride thru the next 12 to 18 months.

For what it's worth, multiple myeloma isn't curable. Without treatment, the prognosis is for me to die within a year. However, there is a rather drastic treatment that can force the cancer into remission for an indefinite period of time.

A series of Mengele-esque steps can be used to acquire "good" stem cells from my bone marrow. Then chemotherapy and radiation therapy can be used to kill all the bone marrow in my body. Then there's more Mengele-esque procedures to get the stem cells back into my bones. At the end of this macabre chain of events, we can HOPE that the stem cells all produce good blood cells and that everything will remain in remission for "a while". Nobody has a clue how long that might be.

Anyway, I'll be keeping people posted thru this site. Good, bad, indifferent, or merely introspection.... it'll be here.