I was completely shocked when I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma in February of 2019. I was 35 years old.  

I like to think of myself as a high-energy person. I am a husband, a dad, and work as a wood shop teacher at a local high school. In September of 2018, my energy levels started to decline. I thought it was just the stresses of life, having 2 young kids, and getting older.

I was wrong.  

I'm very active and the gym is a huge part of my life. I weight-train, do CrossFit, play hockey, ski, bike ride and hike … if it’s an activity I do or did it! Seeing the tremendous decline in my energy, to the point of almost being non-functional, was scary and confusing.

I’ll never forget that day in December when I was walking the dog. We have a small hill to get back to our house and I actually didn’t think I’d make it. I thought I was going to collapse and never be able to get up. My wife and I had no idea what was going on.  

Over Christmas break, I got the flu and just never recovered. I went to my GP in the new year and he ordered blood work. He called me the next day and said “Steven? Are you bleeding or is there blood in your stool? Do you have any pain?” I said, “No, not that I know of.” “Well, your hemoglobin is at 76.” I had no idea what that meant.  

My GP referred me to a gastroenterologist who did an endoscopy and colonoscopy at the same time (that was interesting!). Not surprisingly the tests were clear, but the gastroenterologist noticed something elevated in one of the blood tests. It was then that I was referred to hematology at Cancer Care Manitoba. During my referral visit I had blood work drawn and a bone marrow biopsy right there in the examination room. That is not a process I want to relive.  

A week later, I was called in to Dr Minuk, my hematologist’s office. I sat down and he said, “You have multiple myeloma. You have cancer.”

It was now February of 2019. My wife, my mom, my dad and his wife were all there. As they processed the news in tears, all I could focus on was, “OK it's cancer, what’s next?” Instantly, Dr Minuk explained what was going to happen, that I needed to start chemo immediately.

And off we went. Don’t look back, just move forward.  

It was very easy to hop on board with what needed to be done because there was no other option for me really. I had no energy. It was nice to have an answer and a plan. That was on a Tuesday, and I started treatment that Friday, three days later. My hemoglobin was tanking and was now around sixty seven. My M-protein was very high and my light chains were almost in the thousands.  

I started on the CyBorD treatment (Cyclophosphamide, Bortezomib, and Dexamethasone) and I honestly started to feel better within a month. It was a 16-week cycle and by the end of the four months I felt good. I was able to heal through this treatment by taking time off work. That was indeed a blessing as I had been working full time until diagnosis.

Being able to let go of work and sort of accept what was happening was really good for healing. It got me through. I enjoyed life during the summer break. I had an autologous stem cell transplant (SCT) scheduled so I harvested my stem cells and started the school year in September.

Two days later, they called me to come in for my transplant! The procedure was a success.

I was in hospital for about 16 days. I did the whole lose your hair thing, I was still off work, and I slowly came back to life. The SCT was really positive because you know you're clear of everything.

About 10 months later, in September of 2020 my blood and M-protein levels slowly started to increase. I worked part-time through the first semester and then switched to full-time for the second semester.

In June 2021 my blood tests were bad enough to start another round of treatment, so I started on DRd (Daratumumab, Revlimid, dexamethasone) but it didn’t go well for me. It's a very good drug with generally really good results.

They were expecting I would nail it but it didn’t like my body. I was hospitalized twice with crazy fevers and very strange side effects. My summer was very challenging even though I did reach remission.

About a month after I was diagnosed, my mom’s friend sent her and my wife bracelets with “Keep F*****g Going” inscribed on them. It’s been my motto ever since. Every day, whatever comes your way, you deal with it. You just keep f*****g going!

 When I was first diagnosed, I felt shock but there was also hope and optimism.

You think you’re going to have one treatment and go back to regular life,

no problem. I'm young and fit, and for most of the beginning of my journey, that’s how I stayed.

Then, I had a year of feeling terrible every day. 

I don't want to say I’m on my last available treatment, but we're going through them rather quickly. I’ve had 3 relapses in just under 4 years. This past June, I started the GSK Blenrep clinical trial [Belantamab Mafodotin and low dose dexamethasone] and I’m also on Pomalidomide. 

So far, the clinical trial is working extremely well. In just one dose, it's all but eradicated the myeloma! I received the first dose in June 2022 and within two months it took my M-protein down from nine to trace amounts; they still detect a bit in my light chains, which were at about 100 when I started, but now, they’re at normal levels.

Unfortunately the dex affects me a lot, and I take it weekly. I’ve joked with my doctor that one day, they’ll look back and call dexamethasone barbaric! They've reduced my dose from 40 to 20 milligrams but for me, any dex is too much. It’s difficult for the family. If it was just me, I could handle going a little crazy every once in a while, but when your kids are six and eight, they need you to see them for who they are. You need your clarity. For me, being on dex is like having a bit of a lobotomy …it takes me away from me. 

I'm a very open book with regards to this whole process. I don't feel there's a need to hide anything and I'll talk about it ad nauseum to anybody who listens. It's been a very interesting journey being diagnosed with this big umbrella term. One of my best friends has been fighting diabetes for over 30 years. His battle is just as hard or harder than mine. When I was diagnosed, he called and said, “finally somebody else in the sick club!”.



You have to laugh. In the end, we're all going through this experience called life as humans together.  

My mom is the eternal optimist and likes to call myeloma a livable disease. Let's hope she’s right, but until there's a cure we don’t really know. That’s why we have to keep on doing what we need to do. 

Being only 35 when I was diagnosed, I lived a pretty normal, crazy existence. I’m trying to keep it that way, but I'm more affected physically by things I wish I wasn't, like fatigue.

There have been a lot of ups and downs but I try not to think about it. I try to remember that every day is another day. If today's a slow day, hopefully tomorrow will be better. You have to stay hopeful for the good days.  

This has probably been one of my hardest personal learnings. I’ll be 40 next year and I’m not the type of person to sit still. I'm always bouncing around, working on our house or cabin, in our yard, building, fixing, exercising or doing something. I’m always on the go so these last three years have been like “whoa wait a minute!”. The first year and a half were okay, but the last year and a half have been challenging.  

I have to accept when I can't keep the same pace, and that's been really difficult. If I was 70 with grown kids, or I was retired or didn't have to work, I think it'd be a bit easier for me to accept that today, I'm tired so I’ll take it slow and rest.

But that’s not the reality of someone diagnosed in the throes of the busiest time of this version of life. In some ways maybe it's good, you don't have an option but to go. I’ve been very fortunate to be supported by my local teacher’s union when needing to take time off work. I hope not to take any more as I journey forward.  

Thankfully, my health outside of cancer is quite good. My blood pressure, cholesterol, bones, brain, kidneys and other organs are all good. My scans are clear. I have to believe it's promising not to have any other involvement. I'm still relatively strong and as long as I’m not sick, I'm going to the gym, lifting weights, and doing CrossFit when I can (which is no walk in the park!).

I want to believe that having an active lifestyle will help keep the myeloma away longer, so my goal is to stay as active as I can. 

My wife Heather and my mom Sandy have been my researchers. They know a lot more about myeloma than I do. I'm happy to leave the digging to them! As soon as I was diagnosed, my mom – who’s been in the nursing field for over 40 years – found Myeloma Canada. She got involved locally and is a co-chair of the Multiple Myeloma March in Manitoba. With an incredible amount of support, I've been fortunate enough to participate in the March for the last three years and we've consistently been the top revenue generating team in the province! The first year, I believe we were also in the top 5 across Canada.   

Throughout all of this, the support I've received has been a humbling experience and a key take-away. Having people focus on you and sending you good thoughts is powerful. It affects me deeply. I feel it physically. I don't like the attention, but I really feel the love that’s being given willingly around me. It makes all the difference in the world.

Take for instance Move for Myeloma. I started training at Norak CrossFit in Winnipeg right after my stem cell transplant to recoup and recover.

Megan, one of the owners, has known my story since day one. This September 2022, I was completely humbled and incredibly appreciative when Megan told me she was organizing a fundraising event in my honour to help raise awareness and money for myeloma. This first-ever Move for Myeloma was held on December 3^rd and was an incredible success raising over $10,400 for research efforts. It was a magical evening.  [Editor’s note: See the “In the Community” section for more about the event.]

Call it the power of positivity, spirituality or prayer, I don't know but it’s the intangible part of healing. Without a doubt, the mental and physical are connected. It’s easy to be positive when you're feeling okay, but when you're not, it's a tougher mental game, and it is amazing to feel the love and strength around you.  

I'm going to live my moments of health for all their worth. I want to start cross country skiing again and push as far as I can for as long as I can. All anyone gets are moments in life. We think back on these moments – good or bad – and they're just moments. They change and pass. You have to hang on and make the most of them, whether it's a trip, a great day at work, or just something that makes you happy.