6 month check. A very scary week

Before I begin let me say that I'm fine.  If you'd have asked me that two days ago you would have received a very different answer.

Guys, pay attention.  This could prevent you some grief in the future.

I went in to my Doc at the Seattle Swedish Prostate Cancer Institute, whom I would highly recommend, for my six-month check.  I didn't think that this would be anything other than the 'how you feeling, PSA looks good, see you in 3 months' type visit.  Although I have been having some frequent and very unpleasant GI issues and was wondering how much the radiation was causing my symptoms.  After discussing what was going on, the Doc reassured me that what I was experiencing was unrelated. (Good I guess, but now I have another battery of tests to go through.  I'm assuming it's an ulcer.)

He excused himself to go get my PSA results from the blood work I had done that morning.

If everything was in order I should see a PSA lower than 2.0, or somewhere around there.  Pre-brachytherpay my PSA was at 4.4.  At three months it was 2.1.  So this check should be lower as the cancer cells continue to die.  There is a thing called the 'PSA Bounce' that occurs in a certain percentage of men around the 1 year mark and is expected, but I'm 6 months away and should still be on the decline.

So when he came back into the office with a concerned look on his face I knew right away something wasn't right.

"Hmmm . . . ", he said, scowling at the paperwork he held in his hand, "well.  Looks like your PSA has climbed a bit."

"Oh.  Okay.  What is it?"

He looked again.  "3.0."

That's a jump of almost a full point.  Not good at this stage of the game.

"Wow", I said, somewhat in shock, "I wasn't expecting that."

"Me either," he said.

We then discussed what this meant and he was very kind and reassuring but in my head it was a very different story.  All I could think about was all of the people in my life that had passed from cancer, and how it always started with "You're going to be fine." and then the "Well, we've hit a little snag in the treatment."

Was this my 'little snag'?

We talked about the PSA 'bump', and the percentage of men that don't respond to brachytherapy and everything under the sun.  The bottom line was that while he was a little concerned he thought we should stay the course and check again in three months.  If the PSA doubled, or continued a steady climb for the next 6 months then it would be time to worry.

Easy for him to say.

We talked about the kinds of thing that can effect PSA.  Vigorous exercise, sex, motorcycle or bicycle riding - any of these activities performed within 3 days prior to the test could give a false reading.  I had been swimming - quite hard - in the days before the test.  He also explained that different labs could give different results.  I did have the 3 month and 6 month tests done at different labs, but he explained that for discrepancy to be that large would be highly unusual.

I knew all of these things on an intellectual level, but the visceral part of me could only imagine the worst.  I'd read other case histories of men whose cancer metastasisized, breaking the boundary of the prostate to attack other organs and areas in the body, or a prostate cancer that suddenly became very aggressive.

And, let's admit it.  I don't have a great track record when it comes to health.

So, as I'm sure you'll understand this made for a very, very long weekend.  Talk about the extremes of emotion.

I thought long and hard, talked it over with Suzanne, and decided that I would have my PSA re-checked on Monday - at the same lab where I had it tested before - as I had to go into my Doc for my stomach issues anyway.  It would be a good time as I hadn't rode the bike in over a week, hadn't been swimming for a few days, and with the way we were feeling sex was about the last thing on our minds.

So, into the Doc I went.  Got the blood drawn and then had to wait 24 hours for the results.

It was a long, long, long 24 hours.  Thank God for 'Skyrim - The Elder Scrolls'.  Killing Dragons and Falmer with my 'Ebony Gauntlets of Major Bitchslappery',  (They shouldn't let you name your own weapons in Skyrim),  kept my mind occupied so it couldn't cannibalize itself.  Video games have once again saved my life.    So take that Florida Rep. Chris Stearns.

Yesterday afternoon I walked into the clinic, picked up my paperwork, and took a deep breath.  I'd prepared myself.  If the number was higher then that would be confirmation - for me anyway - that something was wrong.  I could handle it if the PSA was the same or slightly lower.  That was my best-case scenario.

I couldn't even wait to get away from the labs reception desk.  I looked.  Did a double take.  Looked again.

The PSA was 1.6.  Exactly where it should be.  Almost half of the test a week ago.

I gave a shout of "YES" and, I'm not too proud to say, a mighty fist-pump.  Which I'm sure was highly amusing to the people in the waiting room but didn't matter to me at all.

So men, if you take anything away from this remember:  If you're going to have a PSA test watch the exercise, the sex, and anything else that would put pressure on or squeeze the prostate for a few days prior.  And if you get an aberrant reading, get it tested again.  And again if necessary.  Everyone makes mistakes.

Me?  I'm so relieved I don't even know what to say.

I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Two New Cancer Bracelets!

Well!

The bracelets are a big hit. Well, except for one tiny little thing that my daughter pointed out to me.

She said, "I would wear one of them in a minute! But I dontz be gotz da cancer."

That's a fair point. I told her she should go to her doctor and tell him/her that she needed to get her prostate checked, but then she went on a diatribe about health care costs and some other stuff. I got bored and stopped listening.

I can do that. I have a brain tumor. And the cancer.

(Sidenote: I have a very, very short period of time that my family will actually feel semi-sorry for me. That's why I have to work fast to get presents NOW. In about a week I'll start getting the, "Yeah, ya got cancer. So?". Until then you would be amazed how much my cancer acts up when it's time to take out the garbage. Or visit Aunt Martha.)

So, ever the helpful one that I am, I have designed two new bracelets that my friends and family can wear with pride.

These cost a little more, but still a bargain at $199.99.

Enjoy!

The Men In My Life

I'm noticing a curious trend.

When I tell the men in my life about the prostate cancer, I'm getting the same reaction.

Of course they are concerned, and express their sympathy/condolences but then . . .

Then I see the fear come into their eyes. They ask me "So, how did they catch this? Routine visit or did you have symptoms?"

I know what they're thinking because until a week ago I would have thought the same thing: 'Well, if HE has prostate cancer, then I could have prostate cancer.'

And, unfortunately, they are right. Sometimes prostate cancer presents with no symptoms. No symptoms at all. And how scary is that? It's like there is a boogeyman hiding around the corner, waiting to blind-side you at the first opportunity.

I really wish that I could comfort them and allay their fears but I can't. Prostate cancer really is the boogeyman.

The only thing we, as men, can do is visit the Doctor once a year and get a DRE (digital rectal exam), watch our PSA levels, and be on guard for symptoms.

In my case I was presenting with symptoms. Difficulty and pain in urination, and unable to void completely. However, I'd been experiencing some of these symptoms for a long time. I'd had several bouts of prostititus over the years, and until the biopsy all the Doctor's were fairly convinced I was experiencing BPH - Benign Prostate Hyperplasia. Also, some of the meds that I'm on for the cavalcade of fun that is the prolactinoma can irritate the urethral tract. So honestly, I wasn't that concerned. Even when they ordered the biopsy and cystoscopy.

My brothers out there reading this - I wish I could allay your fears and make you feel better, but I can't. The truth - if you get a Doc that is honest with you - is that almost all men develop prostate cancer at some time in their life if they live long enough. How many actually die from prostate cancer is up to debate. Most prostate cancers are very slow growing, and many men that have undetected cancers will die of some other cause long before the cancer gets them.

One thing I have discovered in my research that kind of surprised me, although I don't know why it should, is that prostate cancer is big business.

Big business and big money.

More later.

So, I gots da cancer. Oh, and a Prolactinoma. And Osteoarthritis. It's the trifecta of fun!

Firstly, thanks for visiting.

Secondly, if you are not a fan of dark humor, occasional profanity, stark honesty and snacks, then kids, this ain't the place for you.

So, I have prostate cancer. Early stage. I'll go into all the details in a later post. One thing I've learned in the past week is that we men love details - it's kind of like batting scores. We all know our stage, type, location, and possibly familiar lineage and voting preferences of that group of rogue cells causing all the fuss in our bodies. As well we should. Education leads to informed decisions.

And yet it's all very confusing. After looking into the available information on various treatments I feel like I've followed Alice down the rabbit hole. More about that later as well.

Personally, I'm handling this like I do most other things in life- with a bit of absurdity laced with . . . well, more absurdity. If you can't laugh then you're screwed. I like to tell people that I'm not really sick. I just have one of those 24 hour cancer bugs that hangs on . . . and on . . . and on.

As some of you know from my other blog Big Frickin' Adventures where I'm serializing my upcoming book, it's been one hell of a week for me.

Last Thursday morning I received the galley-proof of my book "David and Suzanne's Big Frickin' Canadian Motorcycle Adventure", (available soon on Amazon and other retailers! Yay!), and in the afternoon I was diagnosed with prostate cancer.

Talk about two ends of the emotional spectrum.

Actually this whole cancer thing pisses me off. It's not like I'm particularly healthy to begin with. Along with the prostate cancer I also have a benign brain tumor. A Prolactinoma. Which, for a man, is about as much fun as having your lip stapled to an overstimulated cat. Yet people hear 'benign', and then kind of lose interest. Then there is the osteoarthritis. From the base of my skull all through my spine. That's a barrel o' fun as well. I will elaborate on both, and how this impacts my decisions on treatment as we go along.

So, dear readers, in the following months - or years - I'll chronicle my journey. Warts and all. Everything from symptoms, fears, conversations with Doctors and specialists, and my own inner emotional landscape.

Hope you come along for the ride.

But let's agree to make it a short ride, okay?