Tag: cancer

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A Reason For Hope

Jothi

It’s been a pretty crazy last couple of months in my myeloma world. My March labs were a bit iffy. Things looked pretty good, but I still had a hint of myeloma showing up. We were going to do a bone marrow biopsy, but that never happened due to something on the doctor’s end.

I went into April’s labs expecting more of the same, crossing my fingers for zeros. Most of my labs came back in the normal time frame, light chains still normal or low. My immunofixation electrophoresis (which is a myeloma blood test) didn’t come back in the normal time frame.

“What’s going on?” I asked myself. “Where are the results?”

The days went by, and they didn’t result. Finally, half of it resulted late in the week, and it showed a reading of my m-band of .2. Previously I was at zero, so this was not good.

The second part of the test came back that afternoon, and I didn’t think it was going to show anything new, so I casually opened it and looked at it.

“Positive for IGM Kappa”.

“WHAT?!?”

My version of myeloma is IGG Lambda. Why is it showing IGM Kappa?

Did the labs mix up my blood with someone else’s blood? I read the notes from the lab, and it says they ran the blood twice from two different vials to double check due to my igg lambda history. It was correct.

A quick search, and I found out it is possible to have double light chain myeloma. It’s like having myeloma twice. It’s very rare, and in only 1% of people with myeloma.

“Face-slap”

What did I do?

After a few moments, I turned on some snappy music and started to dance.

Can I dance?

No

This is really bad news. Why am I dancing?

Because at this point, I said, “Seriously f*** you cancer.” “If you are going to be so bent on killing me, we are going to do things my way. I won’t let you drag me down. I’m going to keep living until I’m not.”

That’s why I’m dancing.

Normally, I look at my labs with my wife, but I didn’t think it was going to be anything, so she wasn’t there when I opened it. I had to tell her the news. It was like placing a 500 pound sack on her shoulders. Being the loved one of someone who has cancer has to be one of the hardest things in the world to endure. I think most people don’t realize this, and it is greatly underacknowledged what they go through. It’s not the same as having cancer, but I think it’s up there on the toughness scale.

I expected a phone call from my doctor, but it never came.

I just kept living my life as much as like normal as I could for the next month. Another round of ivig came the next month, and another round of blood tests.

The timing of the return of the tests was similar. Light chains came first.

Light Chains – Low / Ratio – normal

I had to wait another day and a half until my protein electrophoresis came back. My wife and I nervously opened the first one. How much had things progressed in a month, I wondered?

M-band – zero

“Wow”, we said.

We held our breath on the second part of the result as we opened it since this was the one that showed IGM Kappa (or IGG Lambda).

Normal – no trace of IGM IGA IGG kappa or lambda.

My wife and I looked at each other speechless. We weren’t quite sure what to say. One, because of my previous month’s crappy labs, and second, for this being the first time in 6 years that I’ve had a normal result.

I had a meeting with my myeloma specialist a few days later. Zoom kicked on and the doctor first thing looks at me and says “you know, Jothi, I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Umm thanks?”

He went on to talk about the IGM kappa showing up.

“I called up the lab director to make sure there was no mistake.”

“It’s unheard of someone developing a second mutation from a car-t. Maybe the cancer mutated with it’s dying breath.”

“It’s uncommon for a person to zero out this far out from a car-t.” (I was at 9.5 months post car-t)

“It’s also unheard of, a month later, the new cancer mutation being wiped out. There is no trace of myeloma in your blood. I’ve never seen this before, and I have no explanation.”

A few months ago, they were talking about putting me on treatment again. They wanted a bone marrow biopsy first, which never happened. The doctor is now throwing around the “C” word (cured), which I’ve personally never heard one say before. I’m left asking myself if something special just happened?

Now being a statical anomaly, I’m left wondering why with no answers. Did my car-t strategy of supporting my t-cells have an effect?

It’s too early to tell anything, and I know full well things can flip back the other way around quickly. I try not to get too low when bad things happen, the same goes for trying not to get too high when things go right. I still need a bone marrow biopsy to check things out on a cellular level. Without that being zero, this could be just a blip in the road. Even if it is zero, I need to be zero and maintain that for a few years before I can relax and let some breath out. Cancer is just that unpredictable and volatile.

My point with this post is not to toot my own horn or have people congratulate me. I’ve been playing the cancer game for a number of years now. I’ve been around a lot of people challenged by cancer, and I know firsthand how dire things can be at times and frankly have periods of hopelessness.

Obviously, I’m thrilled with the ways things have gone in the past month personally. I would be equally thrilled if my tale could lift someone else up and give them a reason for hope. That unexpected things can and do happen if you just keep dancing.

labs

Labs 12/14/24 and 1/13/25

Jothi

Here are my latest set of numbers for curious people. It’s been around 5 months since I had my car-t cell infused. By the looks of it though, I still have cancer in my blood at this point. I asked the doctor about it, and he said my having a value for my m-band didn’t necessarily mean I have malignant cells still circulating, and that sometimes it just takes awhile for the m-band to clear.

It has never taken me this long to clear my m-band, and it feels like a bit of sugarcoating on his part. But I’m trying to keep an open mind about it. I find my anxiety level is a lot higher after my car-t, which come to read recently, can be a side effect of car-t.

My light chains are still obliterated, which is good on the cancer front. In December, my m-band had a 50% drop, from .4 to .2, which I was pretty excited about. In January though, my m-band didn’t seem to move at all, which I feel kind of stinks.

Although to be fair, my December test, I could have been at .2999 and it would still show .2, and now I could be at .2001, which would also show as .2. The test isn’t that sensitive though, so I’m having to try and not worry about it for another month until my next test.

My reds in my blood are still lousy. They never recovered after my stem cell transplant and are beat up more from the car-t. But they could be worse, so I’m still eating my plant iron to try to support them.

I had a new blood test done in December called TBNK Single Platform. It is a test that measured my various T cell levels, which I found pretty fascinating. In a nutshell, after some research, my low CD4 reading is normal after car-t, and it means that I have low immunity against germs and viruses. CD4 T cells also support cancer-killing T cells to do their job, so low isn’t the best, but it’s expected. They just have to work hard.

My CD8 T cells are high, which means my genetically engineered cells are doing quite well, multiplying and there are plenty of them to do their job of disposing of myeloma. I guess I just need them to get in all the little nooks and crannies in my body to do their job completely.

Overall, I do feel pretty good. Being off all treatment is awesome. I’ve taken up jogging again, which does feel good to move my body, get my heart pounding hard, and work out my lungs.

I did get sick at the beginning of January, which did end up sending me to the emergency room. My sickness wasn’t too bad, and honestly it did tick me off that I had to go to the ER. My fever spiked up to 102.4 and that’s what earned me the trip. It was just a run of the mill virus after all the tests that were done. It has taken me 2 weeks to mostly get over it, though. My wife caught it from me, and it took her only 3 days to get over it.

I guess CD4 cells really matter…..

TBNK Single Platform
Blog

Myeloma Mushrooms?

Jothi

Part of my Car-T prep was to have an echocardiogram to check out my heart. The test showed I was mostly fine except for a potential problem with one of my valves.

This was a new problem from either the high dose melphalan or more likely from the carfilzomib, since that is known for beating up hearts.

Anyhow, they wanted me to have an MRI of my chest to further investigate my heart. I got the result back last night. I showed that my heart is perfectly fine (thank goodness).

“Grossly unremarkable”

That was the term they used, which is actually pretty funny.

I turned to my wife and told her, “I love you with all of my grossly unremarkable heart”.

We had a chuckle and I kept reading the report.

“An osseous lesion noted within the midthoracic spine, incompletely evaluated on this study”.

Son of a gun!!! Where the heck did that thing come from. I just had a pet scan a few weeks previously, and it didn’t show anything!

This was an (unexpected) blow to me. I haven’t had a lesion since more than 5 years ago, when I was first diagnosed. Now I have a little bugger popping up it’s head in my spine!? The ups and downs of myeloma 🤦🏻.

I needed to reset my head. I went and had a shower and then went outside and did some Qigong and meditation. Qigong and meditation are my go to for (re) leveling my head.

I’m still working out the last dredges of it from my system today.

I was cutting up some mushrooms for my lunch today. The thought popped into my head, that myeloma is a lot like mushrooms. Myeloma percolates in a person’s marrow, just like mycelium in logs for mushrooms. Then all of a sudden, when conditions are just right, a lesion seems to pop up, just like a mushroom after a rain!

Grrr….. I don’t know what the doctor is going to recommend yet. Radiation, chemo, leave it be? I still have 3-5 weeks until my engineered cells come back.

I’ll just keep walking, moving forward…

Blog

I’m Still Standing

Jothi

Today is my Cancerversary.

This one a a bit more emotional for me.

Today, I reached 5 years.

Reaching 5 years was one of my goals. Recent data came out for 5 years survival rate for myeloma. That number was 59%. Meaning out of 100 people, only 59 are still alive 5 years later.

That percentage was less 5 years ago, especially for people with my myeloma genetics (14:16).

The reason why this one is a bit more emotional is that I remember very specifically hearing the doctor tell me 5 years ago,

“You have 2 years left to live”.

I remember thinking “okaaayyyy…..”

Fortunately, shortly after, I started learning about cancer and learned that I wasn’t powerless to deal with it. My life was not in the hands of a stranger (the oncologist I was assigned to). There were things that I could do to change the direction of my life.

I have no doubt in my mind, that if I continued eating a standard American diet (SAD), I would be dead by now. I believe, eating a whole food diet has helped save my life up to this point.

I still have cancer. But I’m still here, despite what I was told.

Up to now, I have survived cancer.

On to the next goal. I wonder what the 10-year survival rate is?

Blog

How To Rub Your Kidneys

Jothi

This post probably should be called Why Should I Rub My Kidneys? But knowing how to, probably more specifically, where they are to rub, is more important.

Known as “The Root of Life” in Chinese Medicine. They act like batteries for Qi, or energy, for your body. I like to get up in the morning, have a big glass of warm water, and rub my kidneys to charge them up for the day. Your kidneys filter the toxins and waste from your body, and you get rid of that via a direct connection between your kidneys and bladder.

In TCM, the kidneys are also responsible for the production of bone marrow, which governs your bones, brain, spinal cord and obviously your marrow. So anyone with myeloma, blood or bone issues should take extra care of their kidneys. Renal failure or kidney failure is one of the main ways people with myeloma die, getting plugged up with all those extra light chains. These guys are very important to keep running well for everyone, especially people with cancer.

If you don’t believe any of this or none of this makes sense to you, who doesn’t like a good back rub? It just feels good, and you can do it anytime and while doing other things. I rub my kidneys while I cook, because there is a lot of little snippets of time in between things. Rubbing them, while standing and having a chat with a friend is also a good time. If you are too sick to do it, you can get help or get a little electric massager to do the job.

So, where are your kidneys located for a good rub?

All you have to do is find the bottom of your ribs on your back. Your kidneys are a little under your ribs at the top, and the rest are exposed right under, on either side of your spine.

In this picture, my hands are right up against the bottom of my ribs, so that’s the level for my kidney massage.

There are also two thin tubes of called ureters that run between your kidneys and bladder. I also like to rub from my waist to my kidneys to get those a bit of a massage as well.

The actual kidney massage should be whatever feels good for you and your body type. You can go clockwise, counterclockwise, back and forth, and up and down.

Using a closed fist versus open hands will change the feeling as well.

In this video, I’m using the Qi Gong method of massage, using the acupuncture point, Large Intestine 4, or the Great Eliminator, on my kidneys. If you make a V with your pointer finger and thumb, the spot is at the bottom of the V. (LI-4 is also a good spot to rub in general or if you are going through some constipation)

I do find it interesting, as I’m currently going through carfilzomib. I can feel my kidneys working hard a few hours after the infusion, especially when my urine turns a putrid color. I can feel that my left kidney is having a harder time with things than my right. I make sure to drink lots of fluids and rub, rub, rub especially on the left.

It’s a minimal commitment to do and another simple tool to put into your well-being toolbox. Give it a try!

Blog

3 In 2,600,000

Jothi

That’s my number.

It is test and doctor visit time, post transplant, for me. I had my meeting with my new myeloma specialist today. My old one left to go work for a drug company, so I had to get a new one, which was a bit of a challenge to get, surprisingly.

In my post transplant meetings with Stanford, the doctor kept repeatedly recommending I go on Revlimid for maintenance. In all my meetings with that doctor, I always had the feeling she would rather be off working on her projects, rather than working with patients. “Revlimid is what is normally done post transplant.” Her recommendation of revlimid, showed me she didn’t actually take the time to read my file.

To be fair, she is a transplant doctor and not an oncologist or myeloma doctor, but still, it would have been nice for a little effort on her part.

I finally had to say, “My case is not the typical myeloma case. I’m four years into myeloma and I’m just doing a transplant now. I’m already refractory to revlimid.”

“Oh really!?” She replied, looking flustered, rapidly clicking on her computer, and started trying to recover. “Let me review your case with one of my colleagues and I’ll get back to you.”

I tell you, it’s hard enough dealing with cancer without trying to manage your doctors!

Hence, my reason for paying out of pocket for a myeloma specialist at a different medical institution. I’m really glad I did. This is only my second meeting with a specialist, a year apart, and I can tell their myeloma knowledge is significantly better than my other doctors.

This new specialist told me almost right off the bat, that he is the leader in MRD (minimal residual disease) research. A mrd test is the best test you can have done for blood cancers, looking for remaining cancer cells. I’ve been pestering my regular oncologist for this test and he finally ran it with my last bone marrow sample. I’ve been waiting and waiting for the result, and I guess the specialist had it.

3 myeloma cells in 2,600,000 normal cells. My goal was zero detectable cells (MRD negative or MRD zero), I might as well swing for the fences. Second best is 1 in 1,000,000. I almost hit 1 in a million, just missed the mark. Anyhow, he was quite pleased with the numbers. His goal is to get me to MRD zero.

Although, I was thinking about the MRD test. It is only a sample of the marrow from a specific section of your bone where they pull the marrow from. So you can have different values at different spots in your bones. MRD positive in your left hip, MRD negative in your right. So I guess the MRD result is essentially flawed from the beginning. But I suppose it gives the best idea of what’s generally going on, since blood tests aren’t this sensitive.

I was thinking of the analogy of a city. If I had a city with a population of 2.6 million, and three of those people were crappy people, I would be doing pretty well. My city used to have a lot more crappy people in it, so I’m glad they are gone, but I still have work to do.

My regular oncologist recommended using carfilzomib as maintenance. I was on it prior to transplant, so that makes sense to me. The specialist recommended a higher dose, saying what was recommended wasn’t going to get it done. He also added cytoxan pills, I was also on that prior to transplant, which I’m not too excited about. It’s not an intelligent drug, and it just kills everything. I guess it’s all the lesser of two evils, maintenance versus active myeloma.

I think I’m going to be a bit more beat up from this maintenance than I was originally thinking, which is a bit of a bummer for me. Hopefully we can lessen the drugs over time….

Blog

Fear

Jothi

Leading up to my stem cell transplant, I’ve had a few people ask me if I’m scared or afraid.

Having cancer, it’s a question that I get asked frequently at times.

For those who aren’t familiar with the transplant procedure, a person gets dosed with high dose chemotherapy, that kills all of your bone marrow. All of your blood comes from your marrow, red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets. Obviously, without those cells, you die (and people do from the procedure). A couple of days after the chemo, they infuse your own stem cells back into you and after a few weeks they engraft and your body starts producing blood again.

When I was first diagnosed, I definitely had fear go through me. With death looming over me and all that uncertainty, who wouldn’t be afraid. I went over that a bit in my post “The Elephant In The Room”.

Fortunately, a plan of action was formed and I learned a few weeks after my diagnosis, that I wasn’t powerless against cancer. There were things I could do myself that would increase my odds. I started transmitting my fear, although it still took time to work out. I had to face my fears otherwise it was going to drive me crazy.

Let me tell you, being afraid is EXHAUSTING. I just can’t do it anymore. So the answer to the opening question is “no”. I’ve more or less made my peace with death and once I got passed that, there isn’t a lot to be afraid of.

Being scared all the time, I don’t know how people can do it.

Fear is meant as a temporary mechanism to keep you alive. After a certain point, people let fear consume them, and it stops you from living.

Of course, the world just went through a worldwide scare with covid. I know people whose whole lives turned upside down with fear from covid. It was really amazing to witness. People wouldn’t leave their homes for anything. Spraying all their grocery’s with bleach. Avoiding all human contact.

I couldn’t help thinking, “if you’re terrified of covid, try having cancer”. I’m not belittling people’s reactions. Everyone is at a different point in their lives, being able to handle different levels of difficulty. It was just a bit odd for me to watch from a perspective of someone who has cancer. Having myeloma is like being hospitalized for Covid, waiting to see if it’s going to overwhelm your lungs or not.

Worrying about something is like paying interest on a debt you don’t even know you owe.

Mark Twain

I must say that I do find that I do have to remind myself from time to time, to not worry or be fearful. Fear is very good at creeping into the cracks in your mind. It plants little seeds that will grow into bigger things that can be very hard to get rid of.

Cancer test anxiety! What if the cancer is coming back? What if we can’t stop the cancer? Is that pain just a pain or is it cancer? What if, what if? It can go on forever, which is why I find it exhausting. If the answer was yes, to the cancer coming back or being unable to stop it, would worrying about it change anything?

Worrying about things will not change a single thing, so why spend energy doing it?

If you stop to think about it, fear pretty much always has its root in death.

If you are afraid of spiders, they are going to crawl on you and bite you and you’ll die.

If you are afraid of heights, you are going to fall off and die.

If you are afraid of the dark, something you can’t see is going to get you and you die.

If you are afraid of Covid, you’ll catch it and die.

If you are afraid of clowns, umm I’m not sure about that one, but it probably leads to death (🤔 they are creepy and get you?).

If you have cancer, you are going to die.

If we had an amazing perfect life, living in a bubble and nothing bad ever happened to us, we would still die. Death is part of life. Fear is part of life. Being paralyzed by fear is the problem. If I’m going to die from old age or cancer (or from clowns 😜), wouldn’t it be more useful, instead of being fearful, recognize it, overcome it and make the most of each day? Make a positive change in my little section of the world. Affect what I can affect. Wouldn’t you want to do the same?

You are either in control of your mind or your mind is in control of you. I prefer to be in control and not have fear dictate my life. If your mind is in control of you, then you have to work and train your mind. And believe me, it is work and it’s ongoing. No one is born with a perfect mind. It has to be developed and strengthened. Ironically, having adversity and overcoming adversity is one of the best ways to strengthen your mind.

When I was about 8, I had a little stuff animal T-Rex. It was only about 10 inches high. I really loved that little guy. One night I was in bed and I wished really hard that the T-Rex would come to life. I was pretty sure my wish would come true. I was lying there, thinking how cool it would be to have a pet T-Rex, and then it dawned on me, what if (there’s that “what if” again) it came alive while I was sleeping and started eating me (and I died)??? I quickly threw it out of my bed, across the room. I thought, “I’ll just see the alive T-Rex in the morning”. My mind had just created the impossible, and it was terrifying.

“Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones.”

–Thich Nhat Hanh

I was trying to come up with the opposite of fear. Would it be bravery? That seems logical but it doesn’t quite seem to fit. A better fit in my mind would be, if you’re not afraid, you probably have peace or tranquility.

So how do you obtain inner peace or tranquility? Firstly, I would say it’s not something people can have all the time. It comes and it goes for most of us. After all, we are all human and have human reactions. You have to keep working at it, and do your best.

Some people obtain some peace through religion, prayer or being in a holy place. If you don’t believe in any of that (or it doesn’t work for you), try to spend time in nature, such at a forest or beach. In such places, you can face/talk about your fears, accept them and maybe find some contentment.

I like to spend time with giant redwood trees. When you are sitting next to a being that is 2000 years old and will out live everyone on the planet today, it can put life into some perspective. Connecting with nature energy heals your heart and mind.

Breathing techniques can knock out fear quite quickly for immediate or unexpected fears. It helps rein in control the mind. Meditation helps you stay in control of your mind all (or more of) the time, so fear doesn’t take hold.

Practice forgiveness. You can’t have peace within yourself if you are carrying around the bitter baggage of the past. True forgiveness is a tough one for people. “I have forgiven you”. “Then why do you keep bringing it up monthly, yearly, every 5 years?”. If you can let go of grudges, then it’s easier to let go of fear.

You can practice gratitude. If you are thinking about things you are grateful for, and grateful for things that are going well in your life, you spend less time on fear. Gratitude keeps our mind in the present, whereas fear keeps our mind in the past or future.

Your mind can be either a strength or it can be a weakness. It takes effort on your part to strengthen and have control of your mind. I think it’s worth the investment of our time to do so, after all, think of the time and energy we currently invest in our fears.

Dale Carnegie says, “You can conquer almost any fear if you will only make up your mind to do so. For remember, fear doesn’t exist anywhere except in the mind.”

So snuggle with your stuffed dinosaurs, for they won’t bite. High five the next clown you see for trying to make you laugh. And maybe dying is really just the great next adventure.

Nutrition

Stanford Nutrition Guidlines

Jothi

I was on my way out the door from Stanford a few weeks ago, and I was given this document about nutrition. I must confess, I rolled my eyes a bit and said sarcastically, “this ought to be good”.

To be fair, the nutritional advice that I got from my regular provider is “eat a bunch of doughnuts to gain some weight”. Also, during my transplant, I don’t know how many times I was told to eat ice cream and drink gatorade (which I didn’t do). So, I was expecting more of the same advice as I was on my way out.

I started reading and my jaw hit the floor in shock. I told my wife, “Wow, this is actually really good”. It’s so good, that I wanted to share it with you.

It’s solid advice whether you have cancer or you want to avoid getting cancer (or other chronic illnesses). I feel if all Americans adopted this diet, 75% of illnesses would go away or be prevented automatically.

One of my favorite lines from it is, “At least 2/3 of your plate should be comprised of fruits, vegetables, minimally processed grains, and beans”. I think most people’s plates are the opposite or worse. Observe what your plate looks like at your next meal.

Here you go. Give it a try.

Survivorship Nutrition.PDFDownload
Blog

It’s A Bit Odd

Jothi

I’m at the Stanford cancer center right now. I’m sitting in a chair having my blood pumped out of my body. It’s laying across my chest and lap, on its way to a machine to filter out my blood stem cells. Another line, from the outlet on the machine, is running up my lap and chest and going back into my body. It’s rather odd (and maybe a bit grody) seeing your blood outside your body, in your lap, going in and out of your body. At times, I feel like my bones are exploding from the stem cell growth factor drug affecting my marrow.

I had to go to the infusion center last night to get a drug that encourages my blood stem cells to leave my marrow to go into my blood, so it could be collected today.

I saw my chemo chair, this one colored orange. It was in a large room that has multiple treatment chairs in it, separated by curtains, that is typical for these rooms. All types of cancer are treated in this infusion center.

I sat down in the chair, awaiting the nurse to run all the regular pre-checks, blood pressure, oxygen level, temperature, etc. She had to run off to do something else. I scooted my butt back and forth in the chair to get comfy.

The room was mostly empty, since it was at night, except for the chair next to me. Almost as soon as I sat down, a nurse went to the woman sitting next to me. I couldn’t see her, since the curtain divided the spaces, but I could hear everything.

“I have some bad news, unfortunately” said the nurse.

“Your labs just came back. It showed that your kidneys are starting to fail and your liver is in trouble. We need to run an EKG to check your heart.”

“Your tumor burden is too much for your organs.”

“We need to admit you to the hospital right now to help clear out your kidneys and liver.”

My heart went out to this woman. I wanted to get up and go over and give her a hug.

A soft sob came from the other side of the curtain.

“How long do I have to be hospitalized for?”

“We aren’t sure, at least a couple of days.”

My nurse came back.

She started saying to me, “Do you have this problem, that problem?

“No” I said, a bit guiltily.

Part of me felt guilty, I don’t know, humans are a bit odd. I guess, I was experiencing some survivor guilt? My situation has nothing to do with hers, and I suppose I could be in a similar situation in a few weeks with the nuclear bomb drop happening on me (sct).

There is really not much I could do for this person, but I still wanted to do something. The feeling of wanting to control a situation that I have absolutely no control over.

I finished my treatment. I was going to go over and just offer a few words of encouragement to this woman, after she was just crushed. But by the time I was done, so many nurses and even some family members showed up, her area was packed with people and activity.

I’m pretty sure I would have just been in the way, so I left.

I couldn’t help thinking, if my few words would had made any difference for her. Or if I wanted to say something, maybe subconsciously, just to make myself feel better about her situation.

Our time will come for all of us at some point. I’m grateful that I’ve found some peace within myself. It was just another reminder for me to be grateful for what I have and the health I have, whatever level that is.

My blood running through a machine, filtering out the blood stem cells.
A snapshot of my specs, I guess I better sit back down, my return is low 😅.