A weeklong trek abroad exemplifies how I’m living my best life

A few months ago, I walked 100 kilometers in northwestern Spain. That’s about 60 miles. It was the final trek of the legendary Camino de Santiago trail that starts in Sarria and ends in Santiago de Compostela. It was a magnificent adventure for the eyes and spirit — offering stunning landscapes and a stirring of the soul.

Over six and a half days, I was fortunate to capture both.

The photographs I have are surreal, capturing miles of green pastures, rolling hills, and narrow paths through woodlands bursting with spring blooms of iconic bluebells, purple foxgloves, and wild daffodils. Tiny medieval villages with two farms and a house-turned-café offer freshly baked bread and homemade cheese to the “pilgrims” who walk this journey, like those before them for more than 1,000 years.

Recommended Reading

June 22, 2026 by Ruth Fein

Sharing my fact-based hope about myelofibrosis treatment

Then, out of nowhere, comes the unexpected: a long slippery slope of wet rocks. There is no choice. You walk carefully with the aid of your poles or go down on your bum. Both options have risks and unpredictable outcomes.

Sometimes faced with a steep climb or a muddy route, I took my time to evaluate the situation, measured the risks and benefits, then slowly approached the challenge as I thought most logical.

Other times, I just went for it — not in an irresponsible, cavalier way, but rather taking it on with careful confidence.

Much like living with myelofibrosis (MF), walking the Camino was an exercise in awareness and perseverance, with a bit of luck now and then, often when I needed it most.

Walking alone

I was with a small group of other blood cancer “thrivers” organized by the nonprofit HealthTree Foundation. Together, we raised over $130,000 for cancer research and programs. But while I was among other blood fellows — some in remission, others in active treatment, or “healthy” after a stem cell transplant — I walked most of those 100 kilometers alone.

We had breakfast together and met up for dinner at the end of the day, but I was the slow one. Most days, everyone else was ahead of me five minutes after the morning start. And guess what? It was exactly what I needed. Time in deep thought. Time with myself during a life-altering transition.

When I left, there were a few days when I couldn’t walk a mile; others I could walk 8. Between painful neuropathy in my feet, perpetual back pain, and anemia-related fatigue with a hemoglobin count hovering around 9 g/dL, let’s just say I was not at my best.

Yet, off I went. I had every remedy possible (carried and used hourly), from CBD/arnica cream to lidocaine patches; from antidiarrheal pills and antibiotics just in case to painkillers and muscle relaxers. This trek was about coming prepared.

But most importantly, I had my MF specialist’s support. If anything even seemed awry, I was to call her and she would direct me to one of the many expert hematologists in the region. She is a dream doctor who takes her time and cares deeply about the holistic health of her patients. Whatever your doctor’s bedside manner, if you travel, find out before you leave where the closest and best doctors are both for emergency care and expertise in hematology/oncology.

If you hesitate to travel because you or a loved one lives with MF, understand that each of us is different and needs to make individualized choices based on our abilities and comfort level. We all experience different ranges of symptoms. And we each have our own way of dealing with the physical and emotional struggles of this chronic disease.

With these things in mind, I respectfully offer a few tips on how I live my life today, which started with essential thrombocythemia, changed to polycythemia vera, then progressed to MF — all over the course of 30 years:

• I take time to breathe deeply and think about what I’m grateful for before my feet swing across my bed and hit the floor each morning.
• When I feel extremely fatigued, I try to give in and rest. I acknowledge how I feel and reschedule an activity or family/friend visit for when I can fully participate, rather than pushing through it and feeling disappointed about what I wasn’t able to enjoy.
• I ask for help. I know my limits. I ask for help. Repeat: I ask for help!
• I live each day as if it could be my best.

For me, this means taking in every music or dance performance available to me, every art exhibit, every hour with friends or family. I walk most days and take in the smells around me, from flowers and the sea to dusty roads and woodsy pines.

For you, it may be the rodeo. Either way, I say yeehaw! Live your best life.

Note: Myelofibrosis 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 another 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 Myelofibrosis News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to myelofibrosis.