2026 Myeloma Diagnosis

Can you imagine ringing in the New Year… from a hospital bed?

When I received my kidney transplant, I knew my life would never be the same. And even with all the changes, I’ve never regretted it—not for one second. I thank the Lord Jesus with my whole heart for my donor. Because of that gift, I was able to live again, to thrive again, and to adapt for the past 10 years in ways I didn’t even know I was capable of.



But on December 27, 2025, something happened that shook me.
My legs started hurting—both of them. At first, I tried to push through it like so many of us do. I used heat. I used ice. I tried everything I could at home. But instead of easing up, the pain kept getting worse… and worse. I messaged my doctor through MyChart, but I knew it would be a few days before I could be seen. Then the weakness hit me hard.

The kind of weakness that makes you stop and think, “Something isn’t right.” I’ve learned my body over the years, and I’ve learned to listen to it—especially as a transplant recipient. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t just “one of those days.” This was different. I honestly thought it might be side effects from my medication… but deep down I knew this was bigger than that.
So I went to the emergency room.
I never imagined that decision would turn into a 10-day hospital stay, filled with tests, scans, and waiting—waiting for answers, waiting for clarity, trying to stay calm while my heart carried the weight of the unknown.

And then the words came that I never expected to hear:
Multiple Myeloma… a type of bone marrow cancer.

What a way to start 2026, right?
I began chemotherapy immediately, and I’m not going to sugarcoat it—it’s been really tough. Some days are heavier than others. Some days I’m exhausted in ways I can’t explain. But even in the hard moments, my faith has been holding me up.

I asked my spiritual father to anoint me with olive oil and pray the prayer of faith over me, just like the Bible instructs in James 5:14–15. And I spoke life over my body. I cursed the Myeloma and commanded it to die and leave my body Jesus’ name.

I truly love what I do as a care provider. Serving people has been part of my purpose. But right now, because my immune system is compromised—and because of the effects of chemotherapy—I won’t be able to work for several months.
This is not easy for me to say.

But I’m taking this one day at a time, and I’ll be posting updates here as I continue this journey. Thank you for praying for me. Thank you for standing with me. And thank you for believing with me that healing is possible.