As told by Gerald A. Soff, MD

Survivor

I am a truly blessed person. How few of us can take a moment and reflect on our lives and say to ourselves, "I wouldn’t want anything different?" My wife, Laurie, and I just celebrated our 33rd wedding anniversary, and we're so proud of our three sons, Benjamin, Aaron, and Sam, who have grown to be great men. I’ve always found great joy, fulfillment, and passion in my work in science and have since even before college and medical school. It is indescribably fulfilling, when I see other doctors using therapy for their patients that derived from things I have worked on. Yes, I am a truly blessed person.

My cancer journey, if not unique, is certainly rare. I diagnosed my own cancer. In 2015, after experiencing unusually deep, visceral, and physical fatigue, I underwent basic laboratory testing, and one of the results was significantly abnormal. As a hematologist, I recognized that this may be an indication of a rare type of cancer, multiple myeloma. I ordered additional tests to further evaluate that possibility, and those tests also came back strongly suggestive of myeloma. At that point, I approached one of my close friends and colleagues, Dr. Ola Landgren, a world leader in the field of myeloma. We discussed the findings and possibilities. Within a few days, I had a bone marrow biopsy and imaging studies, confirming the diagnosis of myeloma. I underwent nine months of chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant, and then five years of low-dose maintenance chemotherapy after the transplant. I have been in long-term remission. No cancer, no hint of cancer, and I feel as good as I felt in many years.

I am inspired by the people I see who make a gesture to help others with the little things. I am inspired when I see a child holding the door open for someone they don’t know. I am inspired when I see someone stop and pick up the groceries that have fallen out of someone else’s bag. I am inspired when I see someone help a stranger. In our society, we make heroes out of great athletes, talented actors, or successful people in business. I think they get too much adulation already, and I would not trade places with any of them.

This is an old one that I came up with and have been telling friends for many years. When people ask me how I’m doing, I say, “I’m perfect.” That always gets a surprised response. I then follow-up, “Yes, I’m perfect.” I continue, “If I was better looking, I’d have a mistress and all sorts of aggravation. If I was rich, I couldn’t trust my friends. And if I was smarter, I would be unbearably obnoxious. So, I’m not too good looking, not too rich, and not too smart. Yes, I’m perfect.”

Dealing with a new cancer diagnosis is overwhelming. More than just overwhelming, it’s terrifying. One can easily be paralyzed with fear. It i’s also an overwhelming challenge to know what to do. My approach, which I share with others, is to think about one and a half steps. What I mean by that, is to focus on the next thing you have to do, and begin to think about the next step after that. But beyond those first tasks, put it out of your mind. If one thinks too much of all the things ahead, with all of the treatments, side effects, and risks, one can too easily be paralyzed with fear. Fear is natural, and appropriate. But fear can be overwhelming. So just take one step and start thinking about the next step. Beyond that, you’ll get there in time.

ICRF represents our partnership with and support for generations of talented and committed Israeli cancer scientists. ICRF represents an avenue that we can all travel together, to get further down the road in our war against cancer. ICRF represents our commitment to beating cancer. ICRF represents the best of us.