On April 2004, I went to my doctor for my routine physical exam, never suspecting that this visit but would be anything but routine. My doctor voiced her concern about the excessive protein appearing in my urine. I immediately asked why she was especially concerned. Her response was a scheduled appointment with an oncologist for further test.

I followed up with my doctor to receive a definite prognosis. The oncology results confirmed my doctors’ suspicious that I had a form of cancer called Multiple Myeloma, a disease I had never heard of.

After getting over the initial shock of my diagnosis, I was set on a course of being thoroughly educated about the disease, its impact, and the several options I had to address its management as I was told there is no known cure.

Initially, I decided to do nothing, since there was no cure, thinking that I would just let nature take its course, especially since I was given three to five years life expectancy with this disease. It wasn’t until I underwent a barrage of test to establish a baseline to make a treatment recommendation, and after I prayed intensely about my diagnosis, that I told my family about my cancer.

— Doris M. 

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