A Remission Check-In
This photo was created by my lovely daughter while away at SCAD in Savannah. She wanted me to feel the love of EVERYONE in our family. Only Kat & Courtney were able to go with me. (Even Charlie & Kats dog Jet were there!)
The girls came with me to Johns Hopkins this time. I was glad to have them there for support. They weren’t allowed back in the procedure room. So, as any resourceful mom with a dark sense of humor might do—I improvised the photo documentation. (You’re welcome, especially if you’re the type who appreciates a little levity with your lab work.)
Now, let me tell you: bone marrow biopsies hurt. The worst part is not the procedure itself. It’s after. With every step, twist, and hip movement, you’re reminded that someone just drilled into your pelvis and took a souvenir.
The good news? I survived. I didn’t see my oncologist that day or at the follow-up. This was due to a scheduling conflict. In the world of multiple myeloma, no news is often good news. The results didn’t say there’s no cancer, but they did say it’s undetectable, which means I’m still in remission. That phrase feels like a blessing every time.
It’s now classified as plasma cell myeloma. This might explain why I’ve managed to hang in there longer than the original prognosis suggested. Tumor-free. Cancer-free. Just me, stubborn and surviving.
Easy Peasy, Lemon-Squeezy.
Honestly, my tests look great considering what my body’s endured over the past five years. I’ll take that win. Praise God, truly. It’s been gloriously quiet on the myeloma front. Most days, I get to pretend I never even met that beast.
I’ve learned to manage stress by staying busy—not with chaos, but with purpose. I try to live as if cancer never showed up. That’s my mindset: show up for life, every day, as fully as I can. I don’t research myeloma obsessively. I don’t dissect every ache and pain (anymore). Trust me, if you look hard enough for something to worry about, you’ll find it. Myeloma is as much a head game as it is a body one.
Next on the agenda? Art school.
I’m returning to creative projects as a form of therapy. Writing has always been my default “stream of consciousness” outlet, but now I want to process life changes through art. Something more visual. Something that lives outside the brain and breathes through color and texture.
I’m still tidying up the baggage in my soul—there’s always more to clean out—but I’m doing it with intention. And a little humor. I’ll try to share smaller updates. I want to avoid long, meandering blog entries. Writing them has been healing in its own messy way.
Because truthfully, even if the updates are short, this journey still matters. Every step. Every scan. Every day I get to live and love and create again.
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