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In February of 1999 I was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, cancer of the bone marrow. Black, 75-year-old men usually contract this disease. I did not fit any of those parameters! The doctor had to inform me of the results of the bone marrow biopsy over the phone and I was unable to see him until the following week. As a result the weekend was difficult. I thought of all the things I wanted to do before I died. I questioned why I hadn’t been allowed to finish raising my thirteen-year-old son, Brent. I decided to visit my daughter, Michelle in Annapolis, Maryland. Frank and I and Brent flew to Annapolis and stayed with Michelle for a week. We toured Washington DC and saw the sights we had always heard about. It was a thrill to actually see the sights we had only read about. We traveled to Philadelphia and toured the National Mint. A carriage ride around the city was a highlight. We saw the Liberty Bell and the hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed. We thrilled at riding the rapid transit from Annapolis to DC. With Michelle we attended the Washington DC temple. It was so beautiful.
A month later I started Chemotherapy. A central line was inserted surgically directly into my aortic valve. A fanny pack was strapped around my waist and through the central line chemo was administered while I was at work. Treatments were three weeks apart to allow my blood counts to rise back to normal. I continued to work as a secretary for the Regional Welfare office. Each time the treatment ended, I felt like I had a slight case of the flu. My body hurt all over. Sometimes I missed work because of the ill effects.
Prednisone is a primary drug used in chemotherapy. It is a magic, tragic drug; magic in that it stimulates the immune system. It is tragic in that it has serious side effects and it is not known how long it stays in your body tissues. When you go off Prednisone the instructions on the bottle should state to taper off little by little. My doctor had forgotten to include that. One Sunday night I began to eat everything I could find, like a starved African child who hadn’t had food for days. I knew what I was doing but could not stop myself. It was a horrible out-of-control feeling! After learning the hard way I made sure to taper off after that.
Another side-effect of Prednisone is insomnia. There were countless nights when I could not sleep until five in the morning. I came to know the night time hours intimately. A comforting sidelight was I was able to read plenty of books. It was fine for a while and then it became annoying. One early morning hour I arose from a sleepless condition and sat depressed at the kitchen table. The hymnbook was sitting on the kitchen table and I opened it.
The hymn

“Lead Kindly Light” was on the page. I read:
Lead kindly light amid th’encircling gloom, lead thou me on.
The night is dark and I am far from home, lead thou me on.
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene – one step enough for me.