Turning our darkness into someone else’s light

When I recently read that former U.S. President Joe Biden had been diagnosed with prostate cancer and it had spread to his bones, my heart skipped a beat and my hands froze. At first, I didn’t believe it was true. I thought it was just a rumor. More than anything else, I didn’t want to believe it because the news catapulted me back to that sterile hospital room where my mum’s oncologist had first mentioned the word “myeloma” to me. That day, my entire world crumbled.

When several media outlets confirmed the news, I imagined the reactions of his family and friends and others throughout the country and the world. I could only imagine they were as shocked, hurt, angry, and heartbroken as I was on the day I found out about my mum’s cancer. That day would forever remain in my mind. Sometimes I wish to erase it from my past.

After all the denial and disbelief, questioning and interrogation, I was forced to accept the fact that my mother would live the rest of her life with this disease that had taken over her bones.

However, I want to share with you what I’ve learned since discovering my mum’s myeloma: Our most scattered and confusing moments can turn out to be lanterns for others who are lost in the same darkness. This is how my grief transformed into a lifeline. I believe yours can do the same for someone else out there.

Recommended Reading

June 2, 2025 by Lila Levinson, PhD

First patient dosed in Phase 1 trial testing AML T-cell treatment

The day the ground gave way

I vividly remember that after the oncologist revealed the details to me, I ran to the bathroom and, through tears and trembling hands, spent countless minutes Googling “myeloma survival rates.” The search results offered me no comfort or reassurance. I was forced to accept the fact that my mum and I would have to live with this bone-destroying disease.

Eventually, I wiped away my tears and exited the bathroom. I returned with a lie for my mother: “This cancer is totally treatable. It’ll be gone in no time,” I said. The guilt I feel from telling that lie still burns in my heart three years later.

I think a significant turning point for me was when a nurse found me crying over my laptop as I waited for my mum to finish a series of tests and scans.

“Why don’t you write your experience down?” she suggested. “I’m quite sure it will help someone else.”

I scoffed at the idea. But then I did start writing, and then I wrote some more. I don’t plan on stopping, especially since I now have a column dedicated to the topic here at Rare Cancer News.

One reader even sent me a picture in which she had taped a snapshot of my column on her fridge. “Before I attend any chemotherapy, I always read it,” she said.

That was when I realized an undeniable truth: It is very possible to repurpose the pain we feel.

To all the caregivers out there who are reading this, always remember: Your story is a rope that you throw into the abyss. Somebody will definitely grab it and use it. So continue to speak out and write, even when you are in pain. Maybe especially during those times, because the world needs the light you are shining on them.

Note: Rare Cancer News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Rare Cancer News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to rare cancer.