Multiple Myeloma and Me is a free, fictional short story. The events and characters described herein are products of the author’s imagination…
Or, did it really happen?
Copyright © 2021 T. M. Watson
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This short story may not be copied or redistributed without the sole written consent of the author.
Multiple Myeloma and Me
“You’ll have to wait a minute. They just told me you’ve arrived.”
“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”
You gotta be kidding me. I’ve led a good, healthy life. What kind of new Hell is this they’re saying?
“I know what you’re thinking, Tom.”
“Oh, we’re on a first name basis already? What do I call you?”
“People call me all kinds of nasty words when I arrive. But, to answer your question, just call me Myeloma, Mister C. Or, just C. I’ll answer to Cancer, also.”
“You aren’t fussy, are ya? Well, screw you. You haven’t been invited.”
“I get that a lot. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Seriously. I travel at random, from one person to another. I don’t have a free will and no ability to pick and choose.”
“Just so ya know, you are one big slap in the face, Multiple Myeloma. Can’t you apologize for putting my life in jeopardy?”
“Good question, Tom. I have no empathy. Hell, I don’t even feel sorry for you.”
“In that case, you’ve got a fight on your hands, C.”
“So do you.”
“I’m gonna beat you, jerk.”
“Could be. But you’ll have to play your cards right.”
“You mean, there’s a chance I will live?”
“Didn’t you listen to what the Doctor said?
“Yes. He said I’ve contacted Multiple Myeloma. A type of cancer.”
“Right. But did you hear the rest of it? You must have been in shock for the rest of his explanation.”
“What did he say?”
“Take a moment and think, Tom. Think about what he said. I can’t help you.”
A nurse walked into the room to take my blood pressure, vital signs and left a glass of water. It was in those few moments I remembered what the doctor had said.
“You look enlightened, Tom. You remember now, right?”
“The Doc said Multiple Myeloma cannot be cured, but it can be controlled.”
“Let the games begin,” he exclaimed.
It was the last time we spoke.
Multiple Myeloma gave me no warning when he stepped into my life. Once he had insinuated himself, I began the most rigorous fight for my life. He was such a bastard.
There’s one thing Mister C didn’t tell me when he got here. Something I didn’t consider at the time, but I thank God every day they were with me.
I had a whole team. First of all, my wife, then my Oncologist, nurses, specialists and many specialized assistants. Combined, we gave C a run for his life.
The chemotherapy and radiation triggered a vigorous battle against the evil Myeloma. The powerful medications took me down so far I couldn’t see up. Days I didn’t care if I lived or died.
Multiple Myeloma hammered away at my body in ways I’d never imagined.
My team followed through like the champions they are. C slowly lost his grips.
He was a hell of a competitor, though. For two long years we fought. He gave me everything he had. C didn’t play fair. And, I didn’t expect him to.
When he pinned me down, he never had the chance to make the ‘ten count’, but he had me grasping at straws for a while. Finally, I took one last swing.
One morning I woke up to the brightest, prettiest sunrise I’ve ever seen.
Multiple Myeloma, or Mister C, never said ‘good bye.’