The problem has been slow-growing. Does that sound familiar? My first attempt at controling the myeloma with targeted treatments occured about eight to nine years ago when I started taking thalidomide. During that time, nobody really knew the proper dosing. So, I took as much as 800 milligrams/day, and even for a brief time, I took 1600 milligrams. The treatment knocked back the myeloma in short order, but I developed neuropathy almost overnight. I eventually lowered the dose to 400 mg, and then, 200, but it was too late. The neuropathy was strong and getting stronger. My feet and lower legs were always in a state of numbness, and my hands were only in slightly better condition. But I was thankful that the disease was under control, and after two years, I began one of the first trials for revlimid which I have now taken for past 6 years, the last 4 in combination with decadron. The myeloma has been reduced to little, or none, but the neuropathy never went away, and it seems to have worsened over the years. As bad as it was, only recently has it raised the possibility that I would no longer be able to work as a TV meteorologist.

About three months ago, while I was on the air and standing in front of the famous blank green wall, pointing at virtual weathermaps, I lost my balance. I thought that I would fall right in front of thousands of viewers. I kept fighting this condition by facing it and trying to overcome it. That did not work. The dizzy spells become more frequent, but I still managed to mask it from my colleagues and those watching. During one weather segment, I invited one of the Harlem Globe Trotters to do the weather with me. He did, but while we were live on the air, the camera moved upward to account for his height. I was watching the image change on the monitor built into the camera, and as the picture expanded upward, I was sure I would go downward. I lost all equilibrium - I didn't know what was up or down, any longer, left, or even right. I was in a very dense fog on a turbulent sea. I quickly grabbed his arm, and made a light comment on the air, "Wow, the camera is moving!" It looked like all of this was part of the act, but it really wasn't. I knew that I had to get at the source of it all, and if I couldn't overcome this, how could I continue working?

I didn't exactly know where to turn. I thought my heart was giving out or hypertension was running wild, so I went to my cardiologist, Dr. Gage, who said that nothing was wrong with my heart, but I should see an ear, nose and throat specialist because I might have a virus in the inner ear. In the meantime, he prescribed some dizzy pills, like dramamine. He speculated that this infection, coupled with neuropathy, was giving me the tremendous imbalance. Almost at the same time, I received a call from my oncologist, Dennis Cooper, who just saw me on the air, and picked up on some of the difficulty that I was having. Dennis was very concerned. He ordered MRI scans of my cervical spine, and set up an appointment with a neurologist. Also, the ear, nose and throat doctor took all kinds of tests, including an MRI of my head.

During all these tests, I was in mental agony. Not only was there the uncertainty of my condition, but I believed that I was going to be forced to retire. I just could no longer do my job. I could be sitting all the time, but that wasn't the image which I wanted to project. I needed to keep up with the others who do the same for a living. So, after more than 30 years in front of a camera, it was time to move on. In all the years of pain and treatment with this disease, I managed to work and keep pace with others who had normal health. But now, there seemed to be little choice. It was time to go before I became an embarassment.

While all this was unfolding, I ran into my big boss and general manager, Jon Hitchcock, and I explained the situation. I didn't yet have the results of all these tests, But I told him that this was the worst crisis which I have faced in all the years with myeloma. Jon has always been wonderfully supportive of my efforts to raise funds and awareness for this disease. Much air time has been given for this effort, and he has helped promote every fundraiser with which I have been involved. He really has been there for me -  a caring and sincere person. And again, he stayed with me. This would have been the perfect occasion to make a change for someone younger, stronger - you know, tall and tan, young and lovely. I am none of the above. But instead, Jon said that we should just wait and see the results of the tests, and in the meantime, we should make whatever adjustments needed on the air. I then saw my news director, Kirk Varner, who is my immediate supervisor, and I explained the same and that I thought I would have to leave my job. According to him, no way was that going to happen. He immediately helped me with the production staff, and we set up a new shot and ways that I could be comfortable, even standing. It has worked. Thanks to the management at my station, I am going to be on TV for a long time to come, regardless of these handicaps.

In the meantime, for about two straight weeks, I took one test after another. The results were very good. My treatment has reduced my myeloma to almost nothing in my spine, in fact, my spine has improved greatly from the last time that I had MRI exams. The disease is not about to take me out any time soon. I have no tumors in my brain, but I have a definite imbalance in my right ear which confirmed that early suspicion of a virus. Also, the neuropathy has worsened, and this has made it tough for me to keep my balance. There seems to be little that can be done for the neuropathy, except perhaps changing the myeloma treatment, and I can't do that, yet. The combination of revlimid and decadron has worked wonders. But the hope is that the virus will settle down, and that will help. 

I have a tremendous amount of faith. I never thought that I was in this battle alone. I don't intend to miss a beat, even during a winter which has offered its share of challenges.