Neither Heroes nor Martyrs: The Harsh Reality of Living with Multiple Myeloma and the Labyrinth of Disability

Fernando Codina breaks the silence on bone marrow cancer, the invisible sequelae that shatter the skeleton, and the urgency for real research over the rhetoric of “overcoming”.

By Fernando Codina.

HoyLunes – I didn’t intend to speak about this, but I have been on medical leave for nearly a year after 27 years of working like a champion, even having planned my retirement for twelve years from now. But now, I am simply told that my leave is extended until March, followed by another six-month extension, and then the social security medical board—based on available data and always according to established criteria—must decide my fate.

My name is Fernando Codina; I am a journalist, a writer, and a security guard. I am also a cancer patient, suffering from a variety called multiple myeloma, which affects the blood and the bone marrow. As if that weren’t enough, by the time it was detected and I began testing, followed by seven months of chemo (I endured nearly three and a half months against the advice of my doctors, my security chief, team leader, and colleagues). Until one day I could no longer go on; I caught acute bronchitis, and my medical leave turned into a disability.

Why are we so embarrassed to be sick? There are people who say, “I’ll take a three-day leave to bridge it with the long weekend.” Others claim different factors; please, let’s not use mental health as a pretext—in Spain, people die every day from this cause.

Myeloma has had the time to destroy my skeleton, leaving me as if I had osteoporosis; my ribs, both front and back—even coughing is an ordeal. It has caused lesions in the joints of my wrists, hands, and feet. My knees feel like red-hot nails, as does my back when I walk for more than an hour, forcing me to take the bus for short distances if they are uphill.

I cannot ride a bike because of my kneecaps, nor can I read thick books because of their weight. And now, what I fear is being cleared for work in an “adapted position.” Because they never truly are.

Five specialists have already told me the same thing: myeloma is a chronic disease, so there is no cure, only remission or improvement, and that there are promising treatments…

But there is no cure for the injuries. And what about my present, my future? Well, I keep moving forward. First, for my cat, Agent Zeus, who will return home seven and a half months into the treatment. Second, for my mother and my family. Third, but no less important, for my best friend. And for that group of people who appear in your life, support you, and do not judge you…

Don’t be a fool, live; eight months ago I thought life had much to offer, and now I see it is only the strength to keep going like an ox with blinkers.

Being sick with cancer is not being a superhero. There are hundreds of types of cancer, and the full effects of many are unknown. Many others have no cure. The only solution is global medical research combined with specific local actions.

Multiple myeloma with metastasis does not create heroes; the treatment only prevents you from going to the grave sooner… In the face of cancer, there are no good or bad people, no winners or losers; we are all victims.