2026 MMRF NYC Walk to Honor Myeloma Advocate and Patient Terry Glassman

Spirit of Hope Award recipient Terry Glassman shares how hope, research, and community shaped her journey with an aggressive form of myeloma.

Courtesy of Terry Glassman (center)

On October 10, 2026, the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation® (MMRF®) community will come together for the 2026 MMRF NYC Walk at Pier 17. This annual event unites myeloma patients, families, caregivers, researchers, healthcare professionals, and supporters who are committed to accelerating groundbreaking myeloma research through the MMRF.

At this year’s event, the MMRF will recognize myeloma patient and advocate Terry Glassman with the Spirit of Hope Award, which honors individuals and groups who have inspired hope and demonstrated an extraordinary commitment to the Foundation’s mission. In 2022, Glassman was diagnosed with plasma cell leukemia, an aggressive, high-risk form of myeloma. Since then, she has transformed her experience into a force for good, dedicating herself to advocating for patients, fundraising for myeloma research, and mentoring other patients.

Ahead of the MMRF NYC Walk, we spoke with Terry about what this recognition means to her and why she is committed to moving myeloma research forward.

Why do you walk with the MMRF?

I walk because every breakthrough in my treatment began as someone’s research study.

When I was diagnosed with myeloma and primary plasma cell leukemia, I learned very quickly that my future would depend on scientists, clinical trials, and people who devoted their lives to treating and ultimately curing this disease.

I walk to honor the researchers, clinicians, caregivers, and patients whose work and courage made my remission possible. But I also walk for the newly diagnosed patient sitting at home after reading frightening words on a screen and wondering if they’ll ever feel hopeful again.

If my footsteps help move research forward so that someone else can live a longer, healthier life, then every mile is worth it.

How did you get involved with the MMRF?

A mutual friend introduced me to [MMRF founder and myeloma patient] Kathy Giusti, and that connection changed my life. Kathy is a remarkable beacon of hope and wisdom.

As my treatment began to work, I realized something important: helping others was helping me heal. Before cancer, caring for people had always been central to my purpose. For a while, I thought cancer had taken that away. Instead, it gave me a new way to do it.

The MMRF provided opportunities to turn my experience into something larger than myself. Through patient advocacy, clinical trial discussions, fundraising, and patient advisory work, I discovered that patients have a voice that matters, not only in their own care but in shaping the future of myeloma treatment.

Today, I continue to benefit from the incredible work the MMRF does, and I’m grateful for every opportunity to give back.

The Spirit of Hope Award is given to individuals and groups who inspire hope and show extraordinary commitment to the MMRF. What does receiving this recognition mean to you?

Receiving the Spirit of Hope Award is deeply humbling because I don’t see hope as something I possess. I see it as something that has been given to me, over and over again.

It came from my physicians and physician assistant when I couldn’t see beyond my diagnosis. It came from researchers whose work created treatment options that didn’t exist just a few years ago. And it came from my family, friends, fellow patients, and the entire myeloma community who carried me through the hardest days. If I’ve become someone who inspires hope, it’s only because so many people first inspired hope in me.

This award doesn’t feel like the end of a journey. It feels like encouragement to keep doing the work: educating, advocating, mentoring, fundraising, and reminding patients that they never have to walk this road alone.

How have you found perseverance in the face of obstacles?

Perseverance, for me, has never meant being fearless. I’ve experienced panic, uncertainty, setbacks, medication changes, scan anxiety, and the emotional roller coaster that comes with living with an incurable cancer. Those feelings haven’t disappeared. I’ve simply learned to keep moving despite them.

Every obstacle has taught me that I can adjust, recalibrate, and keep living. I’ve learned to celebrate stable lab results, ordinary days, and small victories that many people never have to think about.

Most importantly, I’ve learned that perseverance is never an individual achievement. It’s built by physicians who never give up, researchers who keep asking questions, family and friends who keep showing up, and fellow patients who remind one another that we’re stronger together.

I also find strength in patients who have been through multiple lines of treatment but continue moving forward, believing the next therapy or the next breakthrough could be the one that changes everything. That’s where hope comes in once again.

Do you have a favorite mantra or quote that gives you strength?

“The longer I keep you alive, the longer I can keep you alive.”

Those were the words Dr. Sundar Jagannath shared with me the first time we met, and they completely changed how I viewed my diagnosis. Instead of seeing my disease as a countdown, I began to see it as a race between my myeloma and scientific progress. Every month and every year that treatment keeps me well creates another opportunity for new therapies, better outcomes, and greater hope. I now share those words with newly diagnosed patients because they perfectly capture the remarkable pace of progress in myeloma research.

My other mantra is simple: Get through the bad days so you can enjoy the good days. Living with a cancer that requires ongoing treatment means there will be difficult days. But there are also many good days, and I try to keep my focus there.

Anything else you’d like to share?

People often tell me I’m inspiring because of everything I do. The truth is, I don’t think hope comes from extraordinary people. I think it grows when ordinary people choose to help one another. I see that every day in the myeloma community.

Sometimes advocacy looks like speaking on Capitol Hill or serving on research committees. Sometimes it looks like answering a frightened patient’s message late at night. Sometimes it looks like a scientist staying one more hour in the lab. Sometimes it’s a family member driving a loved one to treatment. Hope isn’t created by one person. It’s built by thousands of people, each doing one small thing for someone else.

I’m incredibly honored to receive this award, but I accept it on behalf of everyone who has walked beside me and every patient who continues to teach me what courage really looks like.