🌀 Mood: Discouraged but clear-eyed.

This cancer journey is a roller coaster. Every day brings something new. One week, you get good news; the next, something changes that sends you into a tailspin.

After chemo #7, I found myself feeling low — probably for the first time since my diagnosis. I’ve worked hard to stay positive no matter what this disease throws at me, but I also have to give myself grace to feel what I’m feeling.

I went into chemo #7 feeling hopeful. I remember when my husband and I first met with my oncologist to go over the treatment plan. He told us that the first round, or cycle, would be eight weeks. Then we’d do some testing to see if we could adjust my treatments — maybe drop them to every other week. At the time, even just getting through those eight weeks felt like a mountain to climb.

So making it to #7, I was excited. I thought we were nearing a turning point. But when I asked about the tests that would happen after chemo #8, he just stared at me and slowly shook his head. He said that while I am progressing in the right direction, my numbers aren’t where they need to be. So — no changes. We keep going weekly. No break. No adjustment.

As if that news wasn’t hard enough, he then shifted the conversation completely and started talking about SCT — stem cell therapy. I remember he had briefly mentioned it back when I was in the hospital, but it was more of a future concept. Back then, the focus was on the immediate: weekly chemo, no hair loss, and a plan that would allow me to keep working.

Now he’s saying stem cell transplant is the next step — once my numbers look good enough to handle it.
But that made me pause even more. If my numbers aren’t there yet, why talk about something that will require even more strength, more risk, and more chemo?

Especially when I know there are plenty of patients on the same regimen I’m currently on who have reached remission.
So part of me wonders: why can’t I stay on this path if it’s working for me?

I told him right there in the room that I didn’t think I wanted to do it.
Not after what I’ve already been through. Not with what I’ve read.
Especially not for a 50% success rate.

So many of the patients I’ve come across said the same thing: they did the transplant, endured the intense chemo, lost their hair, went through months of recovery — and still relapsed within six months and, felt in worse medical condition than before. That’s not a path I want to walk blindly.

He didn’t like that response. I could feel it. That’s when he suggested I go to Fred Hutch for a consultation.

And I will. Not because I’m convinced this is the right next step. But because I want to fully understand my options — and talk to someone who does this every day, who can help me figure out what’s best for me.

---

Why I’m Thinking Twice About Stem Cell Transplant

It’s considered a “standard of care” for multiple myeloma. For some, it leads to long remission. But it’s not a cure — and many people still relapse within months or a few years.

And yet — the transplant still feels like the default next step, even when my current treatment is showing promise.

Here’s what gives me pause:

💥 The chemo given before transplant is far more intense than what I’ve already struggled to tolerate.
💇‍♀️ It causes complete hair loss — not just thinning.
🛌 Recovery can be long, isolating, and risky. You’re immunocompromised, fatigued, and vulnerable to infection for months — possibly up to a year.
💔 And many patients I’ve read about relapsed within six months, even after enduring all of that.

I’ve read story after story of people who say they wouldn’t choose it again. Some are now exploring alternatives like CAR-T — options that may be more targeted and less toxic.

I’m not saying there’s an easy answer. But I am saying that I deserve to ask why — and whether this path is really the best one for me.

---

So Why Share All This?

Because if you’re reading this and facing that same decision or something similar — I want you to know:

🧭 You’re allowed to ask questions.
💬 You’re allowed to say, “I’m scared.”
⚖️ You’re allowed to weigh the quality of your life, not just the quantity.
🌱 You’re allowed to choose your own path — not just the “standard” one.

For me, I haven’t made a final decision yet. I’ll be meeting with a specialist at Fred Hutch soon, and I plan to be very honest about what my body has already endured and what I can realistically tolerate.

But I already know this: just because something is standard doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone.

And I’m not afraid to say that out loud anymore.