🌀Mood: Surprised, Frustrated, Hopeful

This Has to Be a Fluke.

Today is Day 155 since my stem cell transplant.

I went into my appointment with my oncologist today expecting it to be fairly routine. Instead, he told me that my latest blood work showed something neither of us wanted to see.

My M-spike is going up. It is now .3.

In simple terms, the M-spike measures an abnormal protein in my blood that can be associated with my multiple myeloma. Seeing it increase after transplant can be a sign that the myeloma is returning.

My oncologist is concerned.

I could see it on his face.

He is hoping this is a fluke. I had a pretty bad cold when the blood was drawn, and there are other things that can complicate these results, particularly after a stem cell transplant. But because my myeloma is high risk, he is taking it very seriously.

And then he said the words CAR-T.

I don’t think I was prepared to hear that.

Not because he is saying I need CAR-T. We aren’t there. We don’t even know yet whether the myeloma is coming back. My blood will be tested again on August 25 because it is too soon to repeat it today.

So now I wait.

Again.

I left my oncologist’s office and found myself sitting in an infusion chair trying not to cry.

I feel vulnerable.

I feel scared.

And more than anything, I feel tired.

The thought of another major procedure or another difficult treatment is something I don’t even want to let my mind go to right now. I did the transplant. I did the chemo. I spent ten days in the hospital. I walked every day through recovery. I lost my hair. I did everything that was asked of me.

And it worked.

I became MRD negative.

That was the news I had prayed for. I was so sure that God was going to get me there, and He did.

So I’ll admit that today I’m struggling a little.

How do I reconcile that certainty with what I heard today?

How could I be MRD negative and now, just weeks later, be sitting in an oncologist’s office talking about the possibility that my myeloma may be returning?

I don’t have an answer.

And maybe that’s what faith looks like today.

Not pretending I’m not scared.

Not forcing myself to say that everything is going to be okay.

Not knowing what the August 25 blood work will show.

I desperately want this to be a fluke.

Actually, if I’m being completely truthful, there’s a part of me that keeps saying:

This has to be a fluke.

Maybe it is.

I pray that it is.

But tonight I’m reminded of something I’ve written about many times over this past year.

An anchor isn’t necessary when the water is calm.

You need it when the waves come.

Today, the waves came again.

I’m scared. I’m frustrated. I’m tired. I don’t understand what is happening.

But my anchor still holds.

Even here.

Especially here.

And then, about a week later, my phone rang.

It was my oncologist.

He had reviewed my latest blood work, and everything was normal.

It was a fluke!

I cannot begin to describe the relief I felt hearing those words. For days, I had been carrying the possibility that my myeloma was returning, wondering whether everything I had endured with my stem cell transplant had been enough.

And just like that, I could exhale.

I had prayed so hard for this to be a fluke. And once again, I found myself thanking God.

This experience reminded me that even when the medical news is good, the emotional journey of living with multiple myeloma doesn’t simply end. There will be blood tests, appointments, and moments of uncertainty. And sometimes, fear will find its way back in.

But I also learned something about myself that day. I can be scared and still have faith. I can cry and still trust God. I can have questions and still believe.

My anchor held, even when I was afraid it wouldn’t.