" Stars look down and laugh at me...I oughta take a bow. You don't have to tell Them (life's hard sometimes), there's one falling now". Bruce Cockburn " All the Ways I Want You"
This verse...and song has long been one of my favorites and is especially appropriate now. It's very easy in life to "get roughed up" once in awhile. Be it finances, relationships, or health...or all of the above, life can serve up some serious heartache. "Stars" have been laughing at me for decades. But the heartache isn't the issue. It never is. We make it the issue, but it's not supposed to be. We make a big deal of a breakup, a motorcycle we can't have, or a house we can't afford to buy ( or paint, furnish, and remodel the way we want). Our "old phones" taunt us until we give in to the new one. The old suburban is embarrassing, slightly worn clothes aren't "appropriate" for nice occasions, and another summer without a vacation is demoralizing. How are we supposed enjoy football on a ten year old television...one's that aren't flat screen and high definition? For the record, the only people that should be happy about old school tvs are news anchors and talk show hosts with poor complexions. WE...CREATE...THE...HEARTACHE. And to be serious here, I am not talking about the loss of a loved one or illness of a child. I speak of the small things...fixable things, things we like to magnify until they are beyond our control...so maybe someone else will come along and "fix" them.
Health situations...even cancer, are not the issue. They happen all the time. Every moment, every day...year after year after year. Sometimes these issues resolve themselves to suit us ... sometimes not. I'm not sure we have much say in this...but that's for another time. Nobody wants cancer .... I don't. No one wants a heart condition, Krohn's disease, diabetes, or any other condition that interfere's with our lives. After all... it's our life. Nobody and no thing should be allowed to interrupt our movements toward a perfect life. We deserve it. "Stars" aren't supposed to fall. They're supposed to just stay in place and "shine".
And when they do fall ? Let's ask the citizens of Syria, Uganda, and Haiti. They'll have some good advice. They'll know, first, what a real "falling star" is, and, then, how to "put it back". They'll know what to do when replacement referees miss a call, our car breaks down, we lose our house (jobs, girlfriend, promotion, etc.), we come down with cancer, when life goes South when we planned on North. Having seen so many "falling stars" they have to know".
I'm sorry... this turned into a rant and I wanted to avoid that. I have developed a keen sense of how "small" we become when we encounter a "curve ball"... just when we figure out how to hit a "fastball". Love those baseball analogies. Some players move on to the next at-bat, armed with the knowledge gained... while others snap their bats in half, chew out the ump, and smash water coolers in the dugout. Their anger follows them to the next trip to home plate. They've become easy prey at that point.
My cancer is a gift. It's wrapped a little oddly, but a gift nonetheless. It's a gift that's teaching me lessons I could not learn without it. If I could have, I would have. Profound lessons. Lessons that show me how not to look beyond this moment to something else that hasn't happened yet. I've made a "career" of not being present to the present. Ask my wife and children. I excelled at this. I'm also learning to seek, and to treasure, silence. I had allowed external chaos, and internal noise as well, to drown out the "communications" I have always attempted with God. "it's just become "too loud" in here...I have to step "outside" where it's quiet". Silence is golden. More lessons to come....
I also need to do some "housekeeping" as they say and relay some surgery info. First the final date for my surgery is Oct. 15 at 1:00pm. It will be at St. Mary's Hospital in Grand Junction. I will have an MRI that morning just before surgery. The other event of note will be the bone scan which will be done this Monday, Oct.1st. All prayers are now being accepted. No limits.
Thankyou for your patience. I LOVE YOU ALL
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Journey On - Episode I
So my lovely wife says to me the other day "this blog should be about the "whole" experience ...if you are hoping it will help other guys facing the same struggle". I readily agreed, as any good husband would, and went on watching the news. But the comment kept resonating. Was I telling the "whole" story or just the parts I wanted to tell. There's a big difference there. Like any good story telling, some parts of an event are just too personal. I think " I would rather not share that part", but...those are the issues, in this situation, that scare us the most...the ones nobody wants to talk about. Not out loud anyway, just those interior type of conversations that mostly serve to rob us of our sleep and sense of peace. After some reflection and review of the events I decided to do what any husband of thirty years would do...take full credit for my wife's idea...and back up a bit and fill in the gaps in my story. Think "Star Wars" episode I...the prequel. I felt I had jumped right in at episode IV, so as any respectable revisionist would do, I am going to back up and tell this story from the beginning as factually as I can. At least so others will be able to relate their stories to mine in a complete manner. For me, this should offset any of the confusion and angst I felt when I was first diagnosed and started to "overlay" my situation with those, a few of whom I've mentioned before, who lost this battle with cancer. Every situation is different. I will repeat this as often as I can because it is very important to keep in the forefront of our thoughts. All struggles require HOPE as a key ingredient for success and this knowledge feeds us as we move forward. So...here I go.
My father contracted prostate cancer at the age of 71, almost sixteen years ago. While I do remember him telling me that it was caught early, other than that I don't remember any other details such as his Gleason score or tumor stage. I traveled to Oak Harbor to see him the day after he came home from the hospital, laid on the bed with him as he recovered, and just talked...mostly me listening and him talking, and then returned home a few days later. He spoke of the procedure only peripherally and then ordinary life took over. He was like that. Every time he experienced a traumatic event in his life he dealt with it, in his unique way, and moved on quickly. That's not to say he forgot about it, that never happened, but he did put things in a place that allowed him to start looking forward instead of backwards. His cancer never returned and he passed away, peacefully in his sleep, a few years ago at the age of eighty four. Oh...the questions I would have for him now.
Because of his advice and experience I began having my PSA checked every year at our local health fair. For a "benchmark" he would say. For over ten years it never changed. After the occasional DRE my family doctor would always comment that I had the prostate of a twenty year old. Now that's something to brag about. Realistically, I never gave any of this much thought, after all, prostate issues are only of concern to "old men", right?. So last year I did my health fair testing and everything stayed the status quo. Cholesterol was a bit high, blood sugar was elevated, but all in all, nothing alarming. Except... in retrospect, my PSA had doubled. I had gone from a nondescript 1.8 to a 4. Still below the "take notice" threshold of 5, but red flag worthy in it's gain. I didn't have a physical last year to review any of this because I didn't want to pay the money and was without health insurance that may have paid for the visit. Another casualty of this recent economy. So my general health was not addressed until this year when I went to have my "annual" physical and a colonoscopy, which was my first. My backside has received more attention than it ever has. Nowadays, whenever I meet a new doctor in this process, I find myself checking out the size of their hands and praying they aren't old NFL lineman with hands like a catchers mitt. I want them to have hands like a woman and the handshake of a two year old. Just saying....
So my primary care doctor looks at my PSA "jump", does a DRE (digital rectal examination), and orders another blood test that looks at "free" PSA in the blood a little closer. Soon after he calls me and says he wants me to consult with a urologist and the appointment is made. A couple weeks later I see the urologist, who does his own "thorough" DRE and orders a biopsy to be done. A few weeks after that the biopsies were performed, 12 samples in all, and the wait was on. Throughout all this, my preoccupation was with an out-of-town project I was working on, and frankly, my focus was not on my immediate health. Looking back now I should have picked up on certain subtle hints that I should be concerned, but my doctors kept following their protocols and I assumed that's all they were...protocols. If I had an awareness of what I didn't know, I would have sped these processes up. As it was, these events spanned a period of time from May 2012 to almost Labor Day. The next thing I know I get a phone call, two days later, from the urologist's office staff, on August 30th, saying "the results from your biopsies are back and they show cancer. When would you like to do your follow-up visit with Dr. ---------?". Follow-Up? "He has time the week after next". I should note here that this doctors office was 65 miles away, often a fact of life living in a rural town in the middle of the Rocky Mtns. My brain was on the verge of exploding here. "A week and a half?" I repeated. "Yes, does that work for you? she asked. "I don't know" I said...thinking "will I still be alive?". "Is it okay for me to go that long. How urgent is it?" I countered. " Oh, I don't know that information...can you make it down here at 8am tomorrow ? Dr. ------- could meet with you before the weekend ". Make it down ? At that moment, I could have been "down" to his office in five minutes or less. Needless to say I scheduled that "follow-up" and hung up the phone. My next, almost "catatonic" act was to leave my wife a voicemail message on her phone that said " Call me when you can. You might want to take tomorrow off ". We met at his office, received a brief explanation of the cancer results, i.e. the Gleason score &Whitmore-Jewett cancer stage explanation, and was given a surgeon's overview of available options for my type of cancer...surgery. In an instant the rest of my life was reduced to a blur of percentages. "With this or that treatment option, and at your age...you would have this percentage of living x number of years"...or "this has been done but with mixed results"... "The long term survival data is not available on this treatment yet" "Here are the possible side affects" And the clincher "It will be ten years before we could declare you free of disease". I now know exactly how the deer feel in oncoming traffic. My name and the word "survival" had never been used in the same sentence before. Unless we were talking about the outcome of certain outdoor adventures we've had. I also felt acutely aware of the 800 lb gorilla in the room...the imminent weekend plans I was delaying by scheduling my "follow-up" that morning...confirmed, in my mind, by the casual clothing and the fact that I called back twenty minutes after I left the office and was told that the doctor was gone for the weekend. This is a bit unfair of me, I know, because it is his "business" and my "illness". Sheila and I ran errands the rest of the day, speaking only of the "logistics" and more practical elements of the events ahead of us. We rotated tires, topped off our oil, shopped for who knows what and returned home. Over the weekend we discussed money, the kids, treatment options, more money, cancer ... Tuesday I called and scheduled my surgery. "How does October 2 work for you? she said. " I don't know ... I was hoping you all would have an opinion on that". "What does Dr. ------- think?" I asked. " Well, he just told me get it on the schedule as soon as it could be done. Does that date work for you? As I am fond of saying...I replied "Either it will or it won't" which caught her off guard. I didn't intend for it to be rude, but translated it meant..."yeah it works if I'm still alive by then". Still alive by then...one month away. Instantly my thoughts drifted to Dan Fogelberg and Frank Zappa. Prostate cancer killed them. Should I even bother with surgery was my next thought. Slowly, over the next few days, my intense internet research coupled with discussions I had with anyone I could network with, my high school "drama queen-ness" dissipated and I returned to reality. Now the FIGHT WAS ON. I know some will identify with this progression of events and others will encounter a different sort of medical experience, but my point is this...each diagnosis is different in that each (prostate) cancer is different. Prostate cancer is complicated. Take responsibility for your own health. Pay attention to your body and educate yourself. It can be done by reading (thank God for the Kindle), internet (which is voluminous), and networking with others in your life who have been through it. They are everywhere. Two hundred fifteen thousand every year. You're bound to know some of them, directly or indirectly. Talk to them. They will be a huge source of knowledge, wisdom, and comfort. So this is the background to my previous blogs and hopefully fill in any voids in the rest of my story. LOVE TO ALL...MA
My father contracted prostate cancer at the age of 71, almost sixteen years ago. While I do remember him telling me that it was caught early, other than that I don't remember any other details such as his Gleason score or tumor stage. I traveled to Oak Harbor to see him the day after he came home from the hospital, laid on the bed with him as he recovered, and just talked...mostly me listening and him talking, and then returned home a few days later. He spoke of the procedure only peripherally and then ordinary life took over. He was like that. Every time he experienced a traumatic event in his life he dealt with it, in his unique way, and moved on quickly. That's not to say he forgot about it, that never happened, but he did put things in a place that allowed him to start looking forward instead of backwards. His cancer never returned and he passed away, peacefully in his sleep, a few years ago at the age of eighty four. Oh...the questions I would have for him now.
Because of his advice and experience I began having my PSA checked every year at our local health fair. For a "benchmark" he would say. For over ten years it never changed. After the occasional DRE my family doctor would always comment that I had the prostate of a twenty year old. Now that's something to brag about. Realistically, I never gave any of this much thought, after all, prostate issues are only of concern to "old men", right?. So last year I did my health fair testing and everything stayed the status quo. Cholesterol was a bit high, blood sugar was elevated, but all in all, nothing alarming. Except... in retrospect, my PSA had doubled. I had gone from a nondescript 1.8 to a 4. Still below the "take notice" threshold of 5, but red flag worthy in it's gain. I didn't have a physical last year to review any of this because I didn't want to pay the money and was without health insurance that may have paid for the visit. Another casualty of this recent economy. So my general health was not addressed until this year when I went to have my "annual" physical and a colonoscopy, which was my first. My backside has received more attention than it ever has. Nowadays, whenever I meet a new doctor in this process, I find myself checking out the size of their hands and praying they aren't old NFL lineman with hands like a catchers mitt. I want them to have hands like a woman and the handshake of a two year old. Just saying....
So my primary care doctor looks at my PSA "jump", does a DRE (digital rectal examination), and orders another blood test that looks at "free" PSA in the blood a little closer. Soon after he calls me and says he wants me to consult with a urologist and the appointment is made. A couple weeks later I see the urologist, who does his own "thorough" DRE and orders a biopsy to be done. A few weeks after that the biopsies were performed, 12 samples in all, and the wait was on. Throughout all this, my preoccupation was with an out-of-town project I was working on, and frankly, my focus was not on my immediate health. Looking back now I should have picked up on certain subtle hints that I should be concerned, but my doctors kept following their protocols and I assumed that's all they were...protocols. If I had an awareness of what I didn't know, I would have sped these processes up. As it was, these events spanned a period of time from May 2012 to almost Labor Day. The next thing I know I get a phone call, two days later, from the urologist's office staff, on August 30th, saying "the results from your biopsies are back and they show cancer. When would you like to do your follow-up visit with Dr. ---------?". Follow-Up? "He has time the week after next". I should note here that this doctors office was 65 miles away, often a fact of life living in a rural town in the middle of the Rocky Mtns. My brain was on the verge of exploding here. "A week and a half?" I repeated. "Yes, does that work for you? she asked. "I don't know" I said...thinking "will I still be alive?". "Is it okay for me to go that long. How urgent is it?" I countered. " Oh, I don't know that information...can you make it down here at 8am tomorrow ? Dr. ------- could meet with you before the weekend ". Make it down ? At that moment, I could have been "down" to his office in five minutes or less. Needless to say I scheduled that "follow-up" and hung up the phone. My next, almost "catatonic" act was to leave my wife a voicemail message on her phone that said " Call me when you can. You might want to take tomorrow off ". We met at his office, received a brief explanation of the cancer results, i.e. the Gleason score &Whitmore-Jewett cancer stage explanation, and was given a surgeon's overview of available options for my type of cancer...surgery. In an instant the rest of my life was reduced to a blur of percentages. "With this or that treatment option, and at your age...you would have this percentage of living x number of years"...or "this has been done but with mixed results"... "The long term survival data is not available on this treatment yet" "Here are the possible side affects" And the clincher "It will be ten years before we could declare you free of disease". I now know exactly how the deer feel in oncoming traffic. My name and the word "survival" had never been used in the same sentence before. Unless we were talking about the outcome of certain outdoor adventures we've had. I also felt acutely aware of the 800 lb gorilla in the room...the imminent weekend plans I was delaying by scheduling my "follow-up" that morning...confirmed, in my mind, by the casual clothing and the fact that I called back twenty minutes after I left the office and was told that the doctor was gone for the weekend. This is a bit unfair of me, I know, because it is his "business" and my "illness". Sheila and I ran errands the rest of the day, speaking only of the "logistics" and more practical elements of the events ahead of us. We rotated tires, topped off our oil, shopped for who knows what and returned home. Over the weekend we discussed money, the kids, treatment options, more money, cancer ... Tuesday I called and scheduled my surgery. "How does October 2 work for you? she said. " I don't know ... I was hoping you all would have an opinion on that". "What does Dr. ------- think?" I asked. " Well, he just told me get it on the schedule as soon as it could be done. Does that date work for you? As I am fond of saying...I replied "Either it will or it won't" which caught her off guard. I didn't intend for it to be rude, but translated it meant..."yeah it works if I'm still alive by then". Still alive by then...one month away. Instantly my thoughts drifted to Dan Fogelberg and Frank Zappa. Prostate cancer killed them. Should I even bother with surgery was my next thought. Slowly, over the next few days, my intense internet research coupled with discussions I had with anyone I could network with, my high school "drama queen-ness" dissipated and I returned to reality. Now the FIGHT WAS ON. I know some will identify with this progression of events and others will encounter a different sort of medical experience, but my point is this...each diagnosis is different in that each (prostate) cancer is different. Prostate cancer is complicated. Take responsibility for your own health. Pay attention to your body and educate yourself. It can be done by reading (thank God for the Kindle), internet (which is voluminous), and networking with others in your life who have been through it. They are everywhere. Two hundred fifteen thousand every year. You're bound to know some of them, directly or indirectly. Talk to them. They will be a huge source of knowledge, wisdom, and comfort. So this is the background to my previous blogs and hopefully fill in any voids in the rest of my story. LOVE TO ALL...MA
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Journey On - 1.0
I have to admit that I NEVER thought I would be a blogger. I do like to write but it's only with stubborn swedish reluctance that I have ventured into Facebook, or Blogspot for that matter. Not that I mind any of these 21st century social connections, I just like to talk face to face. I like to hear people's voices, see their facial contortions, and watch how their body language reveals the "rest of the story", as Paul Harvey would say. Please be patient with me as I share my journey via the internet. I will get better at it.
So yesterday was "second opinion" day. I traveled to Grand Junction to consult with another urologist about my case...treatment options, post-op complications, long term prognosis, etc. Essentially this doctor agreed with the first one, albiet with a much greater attention to detail. Gleason 8 pathology seems to concern everyone I discuss it with. Not the least of which is me. I see it in their faces. Everyone I have spoken to, doctors and suvivors, seem to adopt a different attitude when the behavior of "8's" is mentioned. Not like it's an "oh man, that's a death sentence" sort of tone, more like "did you see the fast ball that guy just threw ?". It gets everyone's attention. That attention is what haunts me in the middle of the night. I can't stop thinking about people like Dan Fogelberg, Frank Zappa, Bill Bixby, et al, who have money and resources to detect and fight this disease, neither of which I have, and they lost. Now all the explanations about their diagnosis, numbers, discovery, etc., are not known and may be completely different from mine, yet... what happened.
I do like this new doctor and I feel that I will switch my care over to him. His advice to have me receive an MRI and bone scan before surgery was a process I appreciated, for many reasons. Primarily, for me, I established a priority on survival first, quality of life second. The big unknown in prostatectomy is whether the disease has found it's way out of the gland. On the Gleason scale of one to ten (with ten being the most aggressive) mine, as I said before, is an eight. Not a death sentence by any means, but concerning nonetheless. It's all the unknown factors... how long it's been growing, and individual biology/physiology, that create the most anxiety, usually around two in the morning, for me. I do feel I have a positive attitude, I do not feel like this is not the "end" as they say. Unequivocally, this is because of my faith. My "communications" with God aren't loud and obtuse, more firm and insistent, gently directive and nurturing. The key for me is quiet, or my ability to escape the "noise" of life so I can "hear" his voice. I don't mean to imply quiet exclusively as an absense of auditory disruption, but more a space of rest that filters other thoughts from finding their way into the consciousness. Contemplation with Him. This is how I "feel" what God wants of me and how I experience His love. His adult version of cradling and nurturing this child. People accomplish this in different ways, but this is how I define peace.
So...now I have a new doctor, new approach, timeline, and surgery date....October 31, 2012. Thankyou for prayers, well wishes, advice (Patrick and Judith), and all the support from fellow cancer "combatants", and especially for Love. We are nothing without it.
So yesterday was "second opinion" day. I traveled to Grand Junction to consult with another urologist about my case...treatment options, post-op complications, long term prognosis, etc. Essentially this doctor agreed with the first one, albiet with a much greater attention to detail. Gleason 8 pathology seems to concern everyone I discuss it with. Not the least of which is me. I see it in their faces. Everyone I have spoken to, doctors and suvivors, seem to adopt a different attitude when the behavior of "8's" is mentioned. Not like it's an "oh man, that's a death sentence" sort of tone, more like "did you see the fast ball that guy just threw ?". It gets everyone's attention. That attention is what haunts me in the middle of the night. I can't stop thinking about people like Dan Fogelberg, Frank Zappa, Bill Bixby, et al, who have money and resources to detect and fight this disease, neither of which I have, and they lost. Now all the explanations about their diagnosis, numbers, discovery, etc., are not known and may be completely different from mine, yet... what happened.
I do like this new doctor and I feel that I will switch my care over to him. His advice to have me receive an MRI and bone scan before surgery was a process I appreciated, for many reasons. Primarily, for me, I established a priority on survival first, quality of life second. The big unknown in prostatectomy is whether the disease has found it's way out of the gland. On the Gleason scale of one to ten (with ten being the most aggressive) mine, as I said before, is an eight. Not a death sentence by any means, but concerning nonetheless. It's all the unknown factors... how long it's been growing, and individual biology/physiology, that create the most anxiety, usually around two in the morning, for me. I do feel I have a positive attitude, I do not feel like this is not the "end" as they say. Unequivocally, this is because of my faith. My "communications" with God aren't loud and obtuse, more firm and insistent, gently directive and nurturing. The key for me is quiet, or my ability to escape the "noise" of life so I can "hear" his voice. I don't mean to imply quiet exclusively as an absense of auditory disruption, but more a space of rest that filters other thoughts from finding their way into the consciousness. Contemplation with Him. This is how I "feel" what God wants of me and how I experience His love. His adult version of cradling and nurturing this child. People accomplish this in different ways, but this is how I define peace.
So...now I have a new doctor, new approach, timeline, and surgery date....October 31, 2012. Thankyou for prayers, well wishes, advice (Patrick and Judith), and all the support from fellow cancer "combatants", and especially for Love. We are nothing without it.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
No Man's Land
I doubt few men, especially those under the age of sixty, imagine they will contract a disease considered the "fate of old men". I know I didn't. Other than when my Dad was diagnosed at the age of 73, I very rarely discussed prostate cancer with anyone. Occasionally the news of a celebrity and their treatment, and sometimes their death, from the disease, but often the only reminder is a flood of commercials touting drugs to "mitigate" the aftermath of it's treatment. I began monitoring my P.S.A. levels mostly at the advisement of my father to establish a benchmark for later. I should note here that he survived his cancer and died three years ago of natural causes at the age of 84. I wish he were here now. There are some things, now, I would only talk about with him. But I can't. When he had his cancer we spoke only of his treatment and immediate recovery efforts, and nothing else. No side effects, survival rates, emotional trauma, or spiritual challenges. Much less the probability of me acquiring the disease myself.
My friends and I would occasionally talk about other cancers, such as brain, lung, or skin melanomas, etc., associated with personal behavior or work environment influences such as hazardous dust, chemicals, or massive sunlight exposure. Never prostate cancer. Way too personal. I know I have chuckled quietly to myself when I would see someone outdoors with a large brim hat, long sleeves, and a bottle of sunblock always at the ready. While I know of no known connections between life outdoors and prostate cancer, the sentiment spoke mainly of the male attitude of invincibility. Even when prostate enlargement or cancer is an eventual certainty for all men, younger men rarely give it any more thought than they would which color to paint the bathroom.
I'm sure modern psychology could answer why this is, but right now all I am interested in are statistics... 1 in 7 men will contract prostate cancer in their lifetime...215,000 men will be diagnosed every year with p.c....30,000 men will die this year from p.c. Thirty Thousand... Most will offer a simple, albiet misinformed, encouragement such as " good thing it's so treatable" or "thank God it's slow growing". Thirty thousand.... Somewhere in heaven a great roar of laughter just exploded. I'm still pissed Dan Fogelberg and Frank Zappa are gone. Slow growing implies that you can "outrun" it. Either way, at this point, I'm just glad that I have been paying attention to my health and diet, staying in shape (relatively), and that I have invested a lot of myself in a relationship with my Creator. I do have more than a few questions for Him, but they will have to wait. For now.
No one can answer WHY, and right now, I confess, it doesn't matter to me. I only know what I know, and like the saying goes, "you can't unknow something once you know it", unless you also suffer from alzheimer's...and right now I know I have prostate cancer. I hope my blog helps someone else, one of those 215,000 diagnosed this year, or next year, or the year after who run into the same seemingly immoveable mountain I have encountered. I say seemingly because the challenge is overwhelming at first. No way over, no way around, no way through. It isn't true, but it seems that way.
I will speak of my research, treatments, recovery, and medical progressions, as well as my HUGE gifts of family, faith, and support and how completely essential they ALL are to my success.
Love To All... MA
My friends and I would occasionally talk about other cancers, such as brain, lung, or skin melanomas, etc., associated with personal behavior or work environment influences such as hazardous dust, chemicals, or massive sunlight exposure. Never prostate cancer. Way too personal. I know I have chuckled quietly to myself when I would see someone outdoors with a large brim hat, long sleeves, and a bottle of sunblock always at the ready. While I know of no known connections between life outdoors and prostate cancer, the sentiment spoke mainly of the male attitude of invincibility. Even when prostate enlargement or cancer is an eventual certainty for all men, younger men rarely give it any more thought than they would which color to paint the bathroom.
I'm sure modern psychology could answer why this is, but right now all I am interested in are statistics... 1 in 7 men will contract prostate cancer in their lifetime...215,000 men will be diagnosed every year with p.c....30,000 men will die this year from p.c. Thirty Thousand... Most will offer a simple, albiet misinformed, encouragement such as " good thing it's so treatable" or "thank God it's slow growing". Thirty thousand.... Somewhere in heaven a great roar of laughter just exploded. I'm still pissed Dan Fogelberg and Frank Zappa are gone. Slow growing implies that you can "outrun" it. Either way, at this point, I'm just glad that I have been paying attention to my health and diet, staying in shape (relatively), and that I have invested a lot of myself in a relationship with my Creator. I do have more than a few questions for Him, but they will have to wait. For now.
No one can answer WHY, and right now, I confess, it doesn't matter to me. I only know what I know, and like the saying goes, "you can't unknow something once you know it", unless you also suffer from alzheimer's...and right now I know I have prostate cancer. I hope my blog helps someone else, one of those 215,000 diagnosed this year, or next year, or the year after who run into the same seemingly immoveable mountain I have encountered. I say seemingly because the challenge is overwhelming at first. No way over, no way around, no way through. It isn't true, but it seems that way.
I will speak of my research, treatments, recovery, and medical progressions, as well as my HUGE gifts of family, faith, and support and how completely essential they ALL are to my success.
Love To All... MA
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