We interrupt this story for this very special announcement.
Today is CFD, the fourth of six significant occasions in my prostate's evolution. CFD = Catheter Freedom Day. In just a few hours, I travel to Columbus to lose the tube.
The six significant occasions:
DD = Diagnosis Day
TDD = Treatment Decision Day
GOD = Grand Opening Day (if surgery is right for you)
CFD = Catheter Freedom Day
The above are backed by research and experience...what follows is theoretical, but I will report at each milestone.
BBUD = Big Boy Underpants Day
MBBD = My Boner's Back Day
Now, back to the story...
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Flashback: Recovery
OK, that's not fair, this isn't really about recovery...I don't remember that. My first cogent memory is being wheeled into my room and, as I come around the corner, seeing Lucia waiting for me. I reached out and croaked, "Svenska!" Croaked because that's all I could do after having the tube down my throat during surgery...ouch.
The nurses were on hand to begin my education. I looked at the catheter...WHOA...I expected a small tube the size of a cocktail swizzle stick...instead, there's a damn garden hose coming out of my body. Doesn't hurt, but unexpected. There's also a small tennis ball sized bulb coming out of my left side that needs to be emptied every few hours (I'm told later it's a drain).
I'm asked if I want anything for pain and I say, "Sure," a decision I may regret in hindsight. I'm also given stool softeners (sorry, but this is a full report), and hooked up to other equipment.
Lunch is delivered and while I'm not really feeling like eating, I dive into the Italian Ice to soothe my throat. I eat some of the salad, and some crackers and yogurt...then it's nap time.
Later in the afternoon I'm helped out of bed and take a short walk with Lucia.
One piece of equipment keeps signalling a problem, and I'm told I have sleep apnea, "No I don't," I respond. My oxygen levels, as a runner, are always great. But the nurses keep telling me to take deep breaths when the alarm sounds...sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, and they are surprised when the levels jump from 70% to 98-99% in an instant. I continue to insist the sensor is defective. More on this later.
Lucia is given a lesson in cleaning the catheter, and I becoming very casual sharing my groin with multiple women...all of whom, with one exception, are strangers.
Coughing brings a new level of awareness to the ports in my body, and then I develop hiccoughs. God, I hated those hiccoughs!
More to come, but first the upcoming announcement...stay tuned.
The nurses were on hand to begin my education. I looked at the catheter...WHOA...I expected a small tube the size of a cocktail swizzle stick...instead, there's a damn garden hose coming out of my body. Doesn't hurt, but unexpected. There's also a small tennis ball sized bulb coming out of my left side that needs to be emptied every few hours (I'm told later it's a drain).
I'm asked if I want anything for pain and I say, "Sure," a decision I may regret in hindsight. I'm also given stool softeners (sorry, but this is a full report), and hooked up to other equipment.
Lunch is delivered and while I'm not really feeling like eating, I dive into the Italian Ice to soothe my throat. I eat some of the salad, and some crackers and yogurt...then it's nap time.
Later in the afternoon I'm helped out of bed and take a short walk with Lucia.
One piece of equipment keeps signalling a problem, and I'm told I have sleep apnea, "No I don't," I respond. My oxygen levels, as a runner, are always great. But the nurses keep telling me to take deep breaths when the alarm sounds...sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, and they are surprised when the levels jump from 70% to 98-99% in an instant. I continue to insist the sensor is defective. More on this later.
Lucia is given a lesson in cleaning the catheter, and I becoming very casual sharing my groin with multiple women...all of whom, with one exception, are strangers.
Coughing brings a new level of awareness to the ports in my body, and then I develop hiccoughs. God, I hated those hiccoughs!
More to come, but first the upcoming announcement...stay tuned.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Flashback: 2 hours to surgery
We arrived at the hospital at 5:20am and handed the keys to the valet. As we walked toward the door I realized this was the last two hours of having a "free range prostate," but remained calm.
The checkin procedure was quick and efficient, providing a tracking number for Lucia to track my progress throughout the morning, giving her a pager (like a restaurant), and suggesting there is coffee ready at all times. I watch a gentleman register who has no one to wait for him...and I feel sad for him. I listen as people talk about their impending surgeries...some, obviously, having procedures similar to mine.
Soon a nice nurse calls my name and walks us to the elevator to go to Pre-Op. In Pre-Op, she provides a gown for me and introduces us to the nurse who will take care of me until time to head to surgery.
Vitals taken, IV started, advice for what I might experience upon awakening and how to respond.
The surgeon stops by and says hello asking if I have questions (too late). Then the gas passer stops by and asks if I have ever had anesthesia before...I thought I had with a colonoscopy, but he said that was just the light stuff. Then he asks if I might want something for anxiety before I head to surgery. I accepted like I was back in college in the 60s.
Then they come for me...I kiss Lucia goodbye and make the trip to the operating room where there is all kinds of activity. I'm still surprised how calm I have remained...perhaps a reflection of the confidence I have in the team I have chosen (critical regardless of the treatment you choose). The robot is being assembled and looks impressive, the surgeon again says good morning, and that's all I remember before awakening.
The checkin procedure was quick and efficient, providing a tracking number for Lucia to track my progress throughout the morning, giving her a pager (like a restaurant), and suggesting there is coffee ready at all times. I watch a gentleman register who has no one to wait for him...and I feel sad for him. I listen as people talk about their impending surgeries...some, obviously, having procedures similar to mine.
Soon a nice nurse calls my name and walks us to the elevator to go to Pre-Op. In Pre-Op, she provides a gown for me and introduces us to the nurse who will take care of me until time to head to surgery.
Vitals taken, IV started, advice for what I might experience upon awakening and how to respond.
The surgeon stops by and says hello asking if I have questions (too late). Then the gas passer stops by and asks if I have ever had anesthesia before...I thought I had with a colonoscopy, but he said that was just the light stuff. Then he asks if I might want something for anxiety before I head to surgery. I accepted like I was back in college in the 60s.
Then they come for me...I kiss Lucia goodbye and make the trip to the operating room where there is all kinds of activity. I'm still surprised how calm I have remained...perhaps a reflection of the confidence I have in the team I have chosen (critical regardless of the treatment you choose). The robot is being assembled and looks impressive, the surgeon again says good morning, and that's all I remember before awakening.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Flashback: 15 Hours to surgery
We arrived at the hotel near the hospital and hauled our considerable supplies upstairs. The room was comfortable with a great view of the river.
As my "prep" didn't begin for an hour or so, we drove over to the hospital to locate the entrance, then stopped for some coffee at a restaurant.
At 5:00pm, I began drinking what would be three liters of liquid laxative in three hours. Having never had this particular routine before, I asked a friend, and remarkable nurse, Peg Lougman ( henceforward to be known as Peg the Wonder Nurse), how to get through the volume of nasty stuff.
If you learn nothing else from my experience, this will help if you are faced with a similar requirement. Peg told me to suck on a fresh lemon before and after each 8 ounce dose until complete. It works! I had no difficulty whatsoever. Oh yeah, and keep the liquid as cold as possible.
The next several hours were spent waiting for the liquid to do its work...then waiting for it to complete its work.
We awakened around 3:45am to shower and prepare for our 5:15am departure for the hospital. I was surprisingly relaxed...empty, but relaxed. Anxious...a bit. Ready to get this behind me...without question.
Next up....checking in and pre-op.
As my "prep" didn't begin for an hour or so, we drove over to the hospital to locate the entrance, then stopped for some coffee at a restaurant.
At 5:00pm, I began drinking what would be three liters of liquid laxative in three hours. Having never had this particular routine before, I asked a friend, and remarkable nurse, Peg Lougman ( henceforward to be known as Peg the Wonder Nurse), how to get through the volume of nasty stuff.
If you learn nothing else from my experience, this will help if you are faced with a similar requirement. Peg told me to suck on a fresh lemon before and after each 8 ounce dose until complete. It works! I had no difficulty whatsoever. Oh yeah, and keep the liquid as cold as possible.
The next several hours were spent waiting for the liquid to do its work...then waiting for it to complete its work.
We awakened around 3:45am to shower and prepare for our 5:15am departure for the hospital. I was surprisingly relaxed...empty, but relaxed. Anxious...a bit. Ready to get this behind me...without question.
Next up....checking in and pre-op.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Home Sweet Home
It's true...there's no place like home. Arrived yesterday afternoon and had turkey and mashed potatoes to celebrate the best Thanksgiving day I can recall.
Oh yeah...took a shower...here's the thing, the hospital is not a place where personal hygiene receives much attention...I was disgusting (no comments, please).
The catheter is a bit of a bother, but there is no discomfort or pain. The surgical site is interesting...five surgical ports (the largest of which is about an inch long) and a drain port.
Waiting for an appointment next week to remove the catheter may be the longest (and most bothersome) part of the procedure...to date.
Walked outside this morning and enjoyed the fresh air.
I'll detail the trip to Columbus and surgery day next...if you're in line for treatment, it may help to know what to expect.
Oh yeah...took a shower...here's the thing, the hospital is not a place where personal hygiene receives much attention...I was disgusting (no comments, please).
The catheter is a bit of a bother, but there is no discomfort or pain. The surgical site is interesting...five surgical ports (the largest of which is about an inch long) and a drain port.
Waiting for an appointment next week to remove the catheter may be the longest (and most bothersome) part of the procedure...to date.
Walked outside this morning and enjoyed the fresh air.
I'll detail the trip to Columbus and surgery day next...if you're in line for treatment, it may help to know what to expect.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Going Home!
Kind of a rough day yesterday, but had a great night and feel really good today. I'll fill in the holes when I can use a real computer...this notebook is tough to use in bed!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
25 Hours before surgery
Well, after the decision was made I got busy...busy learning those blasted kegel exercises, busy reading about catheter care, busy buying all the stuff I might need at home when I return. I was busy too talking with the surgeon's office and the hospital...I have to mention how impressed I have been by how friendly, compassionate, efficient, and professional everyone has been. I end every conversation by saying, "And I'm looking forward to meeting you...you do visit all the patients the morning after the surgery, right?" That idiotic, smart-ass, question is always met with a laugh and a reassuring, "I wouldn't mind it...what I always hear from patients is how good they feel after the procedure."
Another observation I want to write about in length at another time is the number of men I have encountered who have either had treatment for prostate cancer (and they all are very positive about their treatment no matter which was chosen) or have been diagnosed. We are a big fraternity and we need to be more vocal and visible about prostate health.
So, today I awaken to a clear liquid diet followed by the dreaded prep beginning at 5:00pm. We're driving to Columbus this afternoon and checking into a hotel close to the hospital as I have to be there at 5:30am for my 7:40am surgery.
I mentioned I have never had surgery...so there is some anxiety, but the primary cause of the anxiety is not the procedure, but that damn catheter I'll be wearing for a week or so. Never had one of those puppies and I can't imagine what it's going to be like (remember how I practiced the biopsy hurting??? I can't figure out how to practice the catheter thing).
Good friends, great health care professionals, and Lucia have made the journey thus far a good one. OK, it's a trip I would prefer I did not have to take, but it has been a growing experience not devoid of humorous moments as well.
Next time (tomorrow, I hope) I'll post from the hospital after the procedure...stay tuned.
Another observation I want to write about in length at another time is the number of men I have encountered who have either had treatment for prostate cancer (and they all are very positive about their treatment no matter which was chosen) or have been diagnosed. We are a big fraternity and we need to be more vocal and visible about prostate health.
So, today I awaken to a clear liquid diet followed by the dreaded prep beginning at 5:00pm. We're driving to Columbus this afternoon and checking into a hotel close to the hospital as I have to be there at 5:30am for my 7:40am surgery.
I mentioned I have never had surgery...so there is some anxiety, but the primary cause of the anxiety is not the procedure, but that damn catheter I'll be wearing for a week or so. Never had one of those puppies and I can't imagine what it's going to be like (remember how I practiced the biopsy hurting??? I can't figure out how to practice the catheter thing).
Good friends, great health care professionals, and Lucia have made the journey thus far a good one. OK, it's a trip I would prefer I did not have to take, but it has been a growing experience not devoid of humorous moments as well.
Next time (tomorrow, I hope) I'll post from the hospital after the procedure...stay tuned.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Talk - Think - Decide - Back to step one
It didn't take long to discover Lucia was thinking along the same lines as yours truly, if you know Lucia she doesn't hide her opinion...on anything! She found confidence in the surgeon and his office and so did I. So...actually thinking surgery, I called for an appointment with Dr. Long who had ordered the first blood test.
I said to Dr. Long, "On the day you told me I should schedule a biopsy you said, 'and if it's cancer we'll schedule surgery down in Columbus.' Knowing what you know now...would your advice be the same?"
Well, he started the usual examination of the options and their likely outcomes and I stopped him, "OK, hold it. Here's what I'm thinking and why I'm thinking it...you listen and then tell me what you think of my decision."
When I finished, Dr. Long said, "So you've decided upon surgery...OK, since you've made your decision I'll tell you...that's what I'd do if I were in your place."
Then we laughed about many of the experiences I have had, shook hands, and I walked out ready to call to schedule the surgery. Deal done.
There is a calming effect of making a decision...and I felt better than I had in weeks. Lucia noticed my improved attitude and we began to plan the "grand opening" together.
I said to Dr. Long, "On the day you told me I should schedule a biopsy you said, 'and if it's cancer we'll schedule surgery down in Columbus.' Knowing what you know now...would your advice be the same?"
Well, he started the usual examination of the options and their likely outcomes and I stopped him, "OK, hold it. Here's what I'm thinking and why I'm thinking it...you listen and then tell me what you think of my decision."
When I finished, Dr. Long said, "So you've decided upon surgery...OK, since you've made your decision I'll tell you...that's what I'd do if I were in your place."
Then we laughed about many of the experiences I have had, shook hands, and I walked out ready to call to schedule the surgery. Deal done.
There is a calming effect of making a decision...and I felt better than I had in weeks. Lucia noticed my improved attitude and we began to plan the "grand opening" together.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Dentist, Lawyer, Artist, Friend
Now I'm ready to talk about Ken...I first met Ken when I was sent to him for a root canal. Recently retired, Ken's prostate cancer story is far different than mine...but I sought his council as I greatly respect his intellect (although I question his judgement with regard to career choices...why not just get a sign that says "asshole" and wear it around your neck? It's a sign that's been suggested for me for any number of reasons far more personal than career choice! Here's my sign.).
Ken had a PSA of 2 and a tumor the size of a tennis ball undetected until a routine DRE (the fact it was on, and not in, his prostate was the reason for the low score...I think). Anyway, his surgery was lengthy and there were later complications that resulted in an atypical experience...but he has rebounded to become a fierce advocate for men talking about prostate health and having regular DRE's.
A well known author on a variety of topics relating to dentistry, Ken has recently been writing and speaking on matters prostate.
We met for lunch and Ken talked at length about the various treatment options currently available. He also invited me to join him for a regular support group he attends in Columbus. In fact, he had made inquiries of his support group regarding the surgeon I saw for my second opinion and had very positive responses.
Ken shared websites for me to visit for more information, and again urged me to include Lucia at every step along the way...the support group has a group of significant others as well.
Best of all, we laughed a lot about the process, the procedures and the Pampers...excuse me, Depends (had that alliteration thing going there).
The more time I spend thinking about the options, the more surprised I am at the attraction for surgery I'm feeling. Here's my reasoning: for me, and that's important as my decision will only be right for me and should not be considered definitive for anyone else, surgery, which I considered the most radical option, now seems to be the most conservative.
In the event of future problems, my research leads me to believe of the choices in this area at this time surgery provides the most options for treatment; it also offers the best opportunity for nerve sparing when performed by an experienced hand. I've found the man and settled on a course of action. I'm going to talk with Lucia and, if she agrees, it's back to my family doctor to discuss my decision.
Wow...I did not see this coming.
Ken had a PSA of 2 and a tumor the size of a tennis ball undetected until a routine DRE (the fact it was on, and not in, his prostate was the reason for the low score...I think). Anyway, his surgery was lengthy and there were later complications that resulted in an atypical experience...but he has rebounded to become a fierce advocate for men talking about prostate health and having regular DRE's.
A well known author on a variety of topics relating to dentistry, Ken has recently been writing and speaking on matters prostate.
We met for lunch and Ken talked at length about the various treatment options currently available. He also invited me to join him for a regular support group he attends in Columbus. In fact, he had made inquiries of his support group regarding the surgeon I saw for my second opinion and had very positive responses.
Ken shared websites for me to visit for more information, and again urged me to include Lucia at every step along the way...the support group has a group of significant others as well.
Best of all, we laughed a lot about the process, the procedures and the Pampers...excuse me, Depends (had that alliteration thing going there).
The more time I spend thinking about the options, the more surprised I am at the attraction for surgery I'm feeling. Here's my reasoning: for me, and that's important as my decision will only be right for me and should not be considered definitive for anyone else, surgery, which I considered the most radical option, now seems to be the most conservative.
In the event of future problems, my research leads me to believe of the choices in this area at this time surgery provides the most options for treatment; it also offers the best opportunity for nerve sparing when performed by an experienced hand. I've found the man and settled on a course of action. I'm going to talk with Lucia and, if she agrees, it's back to my family doctor to discuss my decision.
Wow...I did not see this coming.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Second Opinion
Wait a second, before I met with Ken, I had my second opinion visit...I was reminded of the timing as I began writing about Ken who was the one who made me promise to take Lucia with me for the consult.
I traveled to Columbus Riverside Hospital to meet with Dr. Burgers (like mergers...anyone watch "Keeping Up Appearances" on PBS?), Norbert's Urologist. As I walked into the office I noted the sign on the door included the word "Surgeons" and, knowing how everything looks like a nail to a man with a hammer, knew what I was going to hear.
Dr, Burgers is an amazing man...his training and experience speak volumes. He explained the advantages of robotic surgery and typical outcomes. Within about ten minutes of the visit he told me to go down the hall to speak with Shirley and schedule my surgery...I stopped him right there, "Whoa...I'm here for a second opinion...I have not decided upon a treatment yet." We then continued the conversation regarding all of the options, but agreeing that my case did indicate intervention. Lucia asked much better questions than I (women are better at that than men) which may be why Ken insisted I take her along.
Then a rubber glove magically appeared, Dr. Burgers asked Lucia to step out of the room, and became the most recent stranger to put his finger where I'd rather it not be.
We did meet with Shirley who provided very helpful information and a list of potential dates if I should decide upon surgery. This office is a well oiled machine, and I mean that as a very high compliment.
We had dinner and a bottle of wine at a restaurant on the way home and talked about what we had learned. Lucia was very impressed with Dr. Burgers (he's an impressive guy), and gave her usual reasoned opinion. I began to consider surgery for the first time as a possible option.
Then I called Ken, told him what I had been doing and we met for lunch (he said he'd buy...but that's not gonna happen).
I traveled to Columbus Riverside Hospital to meet with Dr. Burgers (like mergers...anyone watch "Keeping Up Appearances" on PBS?), Norbert's Urologist. As I walked into the office I noted the sign on the door included the word "Surgeons" and, knowing how everything looks like a nail to a man with a hammer, knew what I was going to hear.
Dr, Burgers is an amazing man...his training and experience speak volumes. He explained the advantages of robotic surgery and typical outcomes. Within about ten minutes of the visit he told me to go down the hall to speak with Shirley and schedule my surgery...I stopped him right there, "Whoa...I'm here for a second opinion...I have not decided upon a treatment yet." We then continued the conversation regarding all of the options, but agreeing that my case did indicate intervention. Lucia asked much better questions than I (women are better at that than men) which may be why Ken insisted I take her along.
Then a rubber glove magically appeared, Dr. Burgers asked Lucia to step out of the room, and became the most recent stranger to put his finger where I'd rather it not be.
We did meet with Shirley who provided very helpful information and a list of potential dates if I should decide upon surgery. This office is a well oiled machine, and I mean that as a very high compliment.
We had dinner and a bottle of wine at a restaurant on the way home and talked about what we had learned. Lucia was very impressed with Dr. Burgers (he's an impressive guy), and gave her usual reasoned opinion. I began to consider surgery for the first time as a possible option.
Then I called Ken, told him what I had been doing and we met for lunch (he said he'd buy...but that's not gonna happen).
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Kevin
Kevin is a valued client and one of the sharpest advertising minds I know...if it's "out of the box" and successful, it was probably Kevin's idea. If you need ideas, contact Kevin@KGGroupMarketing.com (you won't be sorry).
As I mentioned earlier, Kevin and I were diagnosed very close in time and our numbers were almost identical. When I called Kevin to catch up with his progress, he impressed me with the research he had already completed and surprised me with his resolute decision.
Kevin had opted for a surgical approach to his prostate cancer. "Why surgery?" I asked, because that was way, way, way down on my intitial list. Kevin's rational was reasoned, logical, and eye opening for me. Suddenly, considering surgery was elevated in my decision matrix by virtue of our conversation.
We spent the next several minutes discussing our mutual journeys, the people we've met, and our desire to further the cause of making men aware of need for early and regular check-ups.
Our conversation concluded with a pledge to stay in touch through the process and to stay strong in both our personal faith and our faith in the future (not sure you can separate those now that I look at them). I really like Kevin but even when I hung up I was still not sure I could fully understand his eager embrace of surgery.
Then I made a lunch date with Ken, my dentist-lawyer friend who has had a completely different experience with prostate cancer.
As I mentioned earlier, Kevin and I were diagnosed very close in time and our numbers were almost identical. When I called Kevin to catch up with his progress, he impressed me with the research he had already completed and surprised me with his resolute decision.
Kevin had opted for a surgical approach to his prostate cancer. "Why surgery?" I asked, because that was way, way, way down on my intitial list. Kevin's rational was reasoned, logical, and eye opening for me. Suddenly, considering surgery was elevated in my decision matrix by virtue of our conversation.
We spent the next several minutes discussing our mutual journeys, the people we've met, and our desire to further the cause of making men aware of need for early and regular check-ups.
Our conversation concluded with a pledge to stay in touch through the process and to stay strong in both our personal faith and our faith in the future (not sure you can separate those now that I look at them). I really like Kevin but even when I hung up I was still not sure I could fully understand his eager embrace of surgery.
Then I made a lunch date with Ken, my dentist-lawyer friend who has had a completely different experience with prostate cancer.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Norbert
Norbert was the first person I called after being diagnosed. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Norbert's been battling prostate cancer for nearly 15 years having endured almost every treatment available while maintaining a positive attitude, faith, and his running career.
As soon as I contacted Norbert, he recommended I make an appointment for a second opinion with the doctor he has been with since the beginning of his journey. I accepted his suggestion and made the appointment.
Admittedly, there is a great difference between what Norbert has been fighting and my, comparatively, minor case (if there can be a minor case of cancer). None-the-less, I wanted to hear from one of the best, and Norbert's physician has been recognized as such.
Norbert and I met for coffee as well and he shared his story and his opinion of the options with which I was confronted. It was comforting to hear Norbert express confidence I am going to be OK regardless of the treatment I choose...and then he talked about the icky parts of the treatments and beyond...the catheters, incontinence, erectile dysfunction and the like; again, I was assured I would overcome each trial.
I left the meeting feeling a bit better about the future (it may have been just the feeling of taking charge by beginning to actually do something instead of just worrying about it).
The next evening I called Arizona to speak with my friend and client Kevin Nutt, and what he told me really took me by surprise.
As soon as I contacted Norbert, he recommended I make an appointment for a second opinion with the doctor he has been with since the beginning of his journey. I accepted his suggestion and made the appointment.
Admittedly, there is a great difference between what Norbert has been fighting and my, comparatively, minor case (if there can be a minor case of cancer). None-the-less, I wanted to hear from one of the best, and Norbert's physician has been recognized as such.
Norbert and I met for coffee as well and he shared his story and his opinion of the options with which I was confronted. It was comforting to hear Norbert express confidence I am going to be OK regardless of the treatment I choose...and then he talked about the icky parts of the treatments and beyond...the catheters, incontinence, erectile dysfunction and the like; again, I was assured I would overcome each trial.
I left the meeting feeling a bit better about the future (it may have been just the feeling of taking charge by beginning to actually do something instead of just worrying about it).
The next evening I called Arizona to speak with my friend and client Kevin Nutt, and what he told me really took me by surprise.
Monday, November 14, 2011
What to do first?
Most of us have never had prostate cancer before, and the news can leave one a bit disoriented. The doctor is telling you to do some research and provided a few pieces of information...but you're pretty much on your own. Curse you non-directive, empowered patient, don't ask me to say anything I could be sued for medicine!
I have a number of friends who have experienced the wonderful world of prostate cancer, and I began calling them, asking for a chance to sit down and discuss what was before me.
I also began searching the Internet for information...this proved very frustrating as the outcomes for the various treatment options are very similar for early stage cancer like mine. I also looked at the possible complications/implications post-treatment; and again the options all presented very similar information. So, how does one make a decision (I likened it to being offered a great job and being very excited...until the other four equally appealing offers roll in.)?
I opted for a second opinion and conversations with friends. Interestingly, other survivors presented themselves out of the blue. It was as if the universe was providing information for me.
I began with Norbert Peiker, a friend and mentor who has been battling prostate cancer for nearly 15 years.
I have a number of friends who have experienced the wonderful world of prostate cancer, and I began calling them, asking for a chance to sit down and discuss what was before me.
I also began searching the Internet for information...this proved very frustrating as the outcomes for the various treatment options are very similar for early stage cancer like mine. I also looked at the possible complications/implications post-treatment; and again the options all presented very similar information. So, how does one make a decision (I likened it to being offered a great job and being very excited...until the other four equally appealing offers roll in.)?
I opted for a second opinion and conversations with friends. Interestingly, other survivors presented themselves out of the blue. It was as if the universe was providing information for me.
I began with Norbert Peiker, a friend and mentor who has been battling prostate cancer for nearly 15 years.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Best of the worst
I asked Lucia to come with me to get the results of the biopsy, she's going to be an important part of this whatever the result. As we drive to the office, she's trying to put me at ease, but I've got too much on my mind to listen.
The waiting room was crowded, but we weren't there long. The nurse, the really cute one who liked the way I emptied my bladder, escorts us into a consultation room, takes my temperature, and does the blood pressure thing (not surprisingly it's a bit high).
Then Dr. Peck comes in...he's smiling (that's a good sign...right?). "Well," he begins, "if you've got to get a positive result, this is the best news you can get. Let me read from the pathologist's report: 'A minuscule focus in one core.' (at least, I think that's what he said...I kind of zoned out after hearing the word positive)."
"So," he continued," this is curable (I heard that!), and doesn't mean surgery is required. If you were ten years older, I might suggest we do nothing and just keep an eye on it (Hey Doc, I don't want to be ten years older for at least ten years)...but at your age, I think we need to treat this.
You might want to get a second opinion, I'll be happy to send the file to whomever you wish.
If you decide on radiation, you can choose either open beam or go with the seeds and I'll set you up with a radiologist. You should spend the next few weeks reading about the options before you make your decision (my decision?). We'll set up an appointment before you leave."
I tell him I'm glad surgery is not required as I'm surgery free and would like to remain so. Then I shake his hand and follow him down the hall to get my little booklet about prostate cancer...yep, I've got cancer...and make the next appointment.
As we leave the parking lot, Lucia begins to talk for the first time since we entered the consult room...but I'm not really listening...cancer, I've got cancer.
The waiting room was crowded, but we weren't there long. The nurse, the really cute one who liked the way I emptied my bladder, escorts us into a consultation room, takes my temperature, and does the blood pressure thing (not surprisingly it's a bit high).
Then Dr. Peck comes in...he's smiling (that's a good sign...right?). "Well," he begins, "if you've got to get a positive result, this is the best news you can get. Let me read from the pathologist's report: 'A minuscule focus in one core.' (at least, I think that's what he said...I kind of zoned out after hearing the word positive)."
"So," he continued," this is curable (I heard that!), and doesn't mean surgery is required. If you were ten years older, I might suggest we do nothing and just keep an eye on it (Hey Doc, I don't want to be ten years older for at least ten years)...but at your age, I think we need to treat this.
You might want to get a second opinion, I'll be happy to send the file to whomever you wish.
If you decide on radiation, you can choose either open beam or go with the seeds and I'll set you up with a radiologist. You should spend the next few weeks reading about the options before you make your decision (my decision?). We'll set up an appointment before you leave."
I tell him I'm glad surgery is not required as I'm surgery free and would like to remain so. Then I shake his hand and follow him down the hall to get my little booklet about prostate cancer...yep, I've got cancer...and make the next appointment.
As we leave the parking lot, Lucia begins to talk for the first time since we entered the consult room...but I'm not really listening...cancer, I've got cancer.
Friday, November 11, 2011
The procedure (gulp)
Dr. Peck enters the room looking entirely too happy (of course, he's not going to have anyone violating his person) and cheerful. He asks me to lay on my side facing the wall (no witnesses?). I ask if I can continue to read my Kindle and he responds, "If you can, sure."
I feel the procedure begin...which should come as no surprise, it's hard to sneak up someone's rear end with what feels like a garden hose and not be noticed...and I steel myself for the anticipated pain.
There's the stick...and the click. Dr. Peck says, "It doesn't get any worse than that." WHAT? That wasn't nearly the back-bowing pain I expected. In fact, and this is true only in my case and cannot be generalized to anyone else, my first thought was, "I've had dental hygienists hurt me more cleaning my teeth!" It should be noted I have talked with others for whom it was a much different experience.
I actually did continue to read through the procedure and although a few of the cores were a bit more noticeable, overall it was not at all difficult.
"That's it," Dr. Peck said, "we'll clean you up a bit and you'll notice blood in your urine for the next four or five days and in your semen for two or three weeks, but that's normal. If either continues, give me a call." and he's gone.
I tell the nurse, "I think the anticipation is much worse than the experience." and she says she hears that a lot.
Editorial comment: If you are required to have a prostate biopsy, do not fear it.
Then she hands me a pad, shows me how to put it in my underwear, and leaves me to get dressed (I mean she leaves so I can get dressed, not her). Soon I'm walking down the hall to the checkout where I'm told the results should be known in seven to ten days. I make an appointment and I'm out the door where Lucia meets me.
On the ride home I notice I feel a bit odd...not bad, just odd...and I think about eating breakfast. Now the long wait begins.
I feel the procedure begin...which should come as no surprise, it's hard to sneak up someone's rear end with what feels like a garden hose and not be noticed...and I steel myself for the anticipated pain.
There's the stick...and the click. Dr. Peck says, "It doesn't get any worse than that." WHAT? That wasn't nearly the back-bowing pain I expected. In fact, and this is true only in my case and cannot be generalized to anyone else, my first thought was, "I've had dental hygienists hurt me more cleaning my teeth!" It should be noted I have talked with others for whom it was a much different experience.
I actually did continue to read through the procedure and although a few of the cores were a bit more noticeable, overall it was not at all difficult.
"That's it," Dr. Peck said, "we'll clean you up a bit and you'll notice blood in your urine for the next four or five days and in your semen for two or three weeks, but that's normal. If either continues, give me a call." and he's gone.
I tell the nurse, "I think the anticipation is much worse than the experience." and she says she hears that a lot.
Editorial comment: If you are required to have a prostate biopsy, do not fear it.
Then she hands me a pad, shows me how to put it in my underwear, and leaves me to get dressed (I mean she leaves so I can get dressed, not her). Soon I'm walking down the hall to the checkout where I'm told the results should be known in seven to ten days. I make an appointment and I'm out the door where Lucia meets me.
On the ride home I notice I feel a bit odd...not bad, just odd...and I think about eating breakfast. Now the long wait begins.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Here I go
I stand, on somewhat shaky legs, pick up my Kindle, and start toward the door the nurse is holding open (not the same nurse I impressed with my bladder emptying skills on my first visit). Lucia asks if I want her to come with me...HUH? First of all, Lucia is a wonderful person, but she can't watch blood being drawn without fainting; second, I don't think this is going to be pretty. Taking all that into consideration, I say, No," and enter the hallway where the nurse directs me into the procedure room.
"Take off your pants and underwear, you can leave your socks and shirt on ("thanks"), put this sheet on and sit on the table...when I come back, I'll tell you what's going to happen."
Pants & underwear off, sheet on, up on the table, waiting and pretending to read.
"OK," she says as she enters, "I'm going to flood the area with this anesthetic, there is no shot, then...(WAIT! There is no shot? My friend from Arizona said, "Take the shot.")...then the doctor will come in. You'll feel some pressure, then you'll feel a stick and hear a click. At this point it's a mind game; what you want to do is say to yourself, 'that's one, seven more to go,' and count down to get through it."
I ask, "Will I be able to read my Kindle during the procedure?" but what I am thinking is, "Holy crap! Mind game? Get through it? Mommy!" Then she floods the area and we both wait for the doctor to enter the room.
"Take off your pants and underwear, you can leave your socks and shirt on ("thanks"), put this sheet on and sit on the table...when I come back, I'll tell you what's going to happen."
Pants & underwear off, sheet on, up on the table, waiting and pretending to read.
"OK," she says as she enters, "I'm going to flood the area with this anesthetic, there is no shot, then...(WAIT! There is no shot? My friend from Arizona said, "Take the shot.")...then the doctor will come in. You'll feel some pressure, then you'll feel a stick and hear a click. At this point it's a mind game; what you want to do is say to yourself, 'that's one, seven more to go,' and count down to get through it."
I ask, "Will I be able to read my Kindle during the procedure?" but what I am thinking is, "Holy crap! Mind game? Get through it? Mommy!" Then she floods the area and we both wait for the doctor to enter the room.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
The biopsy
Does anyone enjoy preparing for lower GI type tests? Given the serious nature of the procedure, I was generally surprised by the simple prescription for either two laxatives the night before, or an enema 2 hrs. prior to the biopsy...and being one of those, "If a little bit is good, a whole lot is better," guys, I decided to do both.
The laxative portion was gentle and did not interrupt my rest...much. The enema was, well, you know.
Soon I was in the car, Lucia behind the wheel, and on the way acting like I was just going to an appointment like any other.
We arrived at the office, walked into the waiting room, located seats near the door, and I opened my Kindle and began reading as I waited. Then the Nurse called my name...
The laxative portion was gentle and did not interrupt my rest...much. The enema was, well, you know.
Soon I was in the car, Lucia behind the wheel, and on the way acting like I was just going to an appointment like any other.
We arrived at the office, walked into the waiting room, located seats near the door, and I opened my Kindle and began reading as I waited. Then the Nurse called my name...
Monday, November 7, 2011
I'm not proud of this...
As a result of the comments I was hearing about the biopsy, I let my mind travel forward in time to the experience...and I didn't like what I was seeing (and feeling).
Knowing Lucia was in the waiting room during my procedure, along with a collection of other patients, I didn't want her to hear me making "ouchy" noises (or whimpering, or any of that stuff). So I practiced!
True story; I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and practiced stifling sounds of pain. I sought the best combination of facial grimaces and guttural vocalizations that expressed pain without volume. Soon I became proficient in an art I had not previously known existed...in fact, I may have invented the genre.
I'm not proud of this...but it's true and if anyone reading this is facing their first biopsy, stay tuned...if you've had a biopsy and want to share your experience, feel free to chime in at any time. As I said, we need to talk about this stuff.
Next up...the biopsy.
Knowing Lucia was in the waiting room during my procedure, along with a collection of other patients, I didn't want her to hear me making "ouchy" noises (or whimpering, or any of that stuff). So I practiced!
True story; I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and practiced stifling sounds of pain. I sought the best combination of facial grimaces and guttural vocalizations that expressed pain without volume. Soon I became proficient in an art I had not previously known existed...in fact, I may have invented the genre.
I'm not proud of this...but it's true and if anyone reading this is facing their first biopsy, stay tuned...if you've had a biopsy and want to share your experience, feel free to chime in at any time. As I said, we need to talk about this stuff.
Next up...the biopsy.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Waiting
So, while I'm waiting for the date of my biopsy to arrive, I try to gather as much information as possible about what I'm facing. This was a mistake! I read two or three books (more properly, sections of two or three books) that described the procedure and likened it to snapping a rubber band on your wrist...except it ain't rubber and it sure as hell isn't my wrist. I also contacted friends whom I knew had been through the procedure.
First was Ken. Ken is a dentist who decided being a dentist was bad enough...so he also became an attorney (so no one talks to him at cocktail parties). Ken has become a strong advocate for men's prostate health and immediately sent me a few articles he had written on the subject for a publication. Within the first three sentences I found the words, "It HURTS (his emphasis, not mine)," well, now I'm feeling better...not.
It was during this time I learned a client, and valued friend, in Phoenix had been mirroring my experience and had just had his biopsy. His advice, "Take the shot."
Another friend mentioned the rubber band analogy, but added, when I mentioned the shot remark, that I'll probably want to drink several shots both before and after.
I had decided Lucia needed to be a part of the whole adventure (she had expressed her wish to do so at the first mention of trouble) so I asked her to accompany me the day of the biopsy and drive...even though I had been told I'd be OK. Lucia quickly agreed.
Now it was just a case of wait and continue reading and talking...and thinking.
First was Ken. Ken is a dentist who decided being a dentist was bad enough...so he also became an attorney (so no one talks to him at cocktail parties). Ken has become a strong advocate for men's prostate health and immediately sent me a few articles he had written on the subject for a publication. Within the first three sentences I found the words, "It HURTS (his emphasis, not mine)," well, now I'm feeling better...not.
It was during this time I learned a client, and valued friend, in Phoenix had been mirroring my experience and had just had his biopsy. His advice, "Take the shot."
Another friend mentioned the rubber band analogy, but added, when I mentioned the shot remark, that I'll probably want to drink several shots both before and after.
I had decided Lucia needed to be a part of the whole adventure (she had expressed her wish to do so at the first mention of trouble) so I asked her to accompany me the day of the biopsy and drive...even though I had been told I'd be OK. Lucia quickly agreed.
Now it was just a case of wait and continue reading and talking...and thinking.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Bill's first Urologist
I have no idea what to expect on my first visit to the Urologist...but I'm pretty sure he's going to do that digital thing, UGH.
I arrive a bit early because I'm sure there's going to be the usual collection of paperwork to fill-out. The lady behind the window seems very nice and she does indeed hand me a stack of papers. I quickly complete that task, then sit back a wait for the call trying very hard not to make eye contact with anyone else in the waiting room.
"William," the nurse (I think) calls, "follow me." Here we go. As we enter the room she asks me to take a seat, takes my blood pressure (elevated...to be expected) and hands me a small cup. "I want you to fill this in the restroom across the hall and then empty your bladder as much as possible." It was at this point I recognized how really cute this young lady is...and she's asking me to empty my bladder, something no woman has ever asked of me before!
I comply with the request and return to the exam room where she tells me to take off my shirt and loosen my pants as she's going to do an ultrasound of my bladder to see how much I was able to empty.
"Less than one ounce! My, you certainly do empty your bladder well," the cute nurse tells me...again, something no other woman has ever said to me. Come to think of it, no man has ever said that to me either. "The doctor will be in shortly," and she walked out of my life.
Soon, the doctor enters and I like him immediately. He's young-ish, and has a friendly manner. After a few questions, it's drop trou and here comes the digit! Then he tells me he's going to schedule the biopsy. "It takes about fifteen minutes here in the office and you'll be able to drive yourself to and from the appointment if you wish." Then we're on our way to the front desk for the appointment and some literature about prostates, biopsy and how to prep for the biopsy (JOY!).
"You can take two laxatives the night before, or an enema two hours before the biopsy," she tells me.
Then it's over and I'm on my way to work...and ready to ask everyone I know who has been through the procedure about a biopsy...what's involved, does it hurt?
I arrive a bit early because I'm sure there's going to be the usual collection of paperwork to fill-out. The lady behind the window seems very nice and she does indeed hand me a stack of papers. I quickly complete that task, then sit back a wait for the call trying very hard not to make eye contact with anyone else in the waiting room.
"William," the nurse (I think) calls, "follow me." Here we go. As we enter the room she asks me to take a seat, takes my blood pressure (elevated...to be expected) and hands me a small cup. "I want you to fill this in the restroom across the hall and then empty your bladder as much as possible." It was at this point I recognized how really cute this young lady is...and she's asking me to empty my bladder, something no woman has ever asked of me before!
I comply with the request and return to the exam room where she tells me to take off my shirt and loosen my pants as she's going to do an ultrasound of my bladder to see how much I was able to empty.
"Less than one ounce! My, you certainly do empty your bladder well," the cute nurse tells me...again, something no other woman has ever said to me. Come to think of it, no man has ever said that to me either. "The doctor will be in shortly," and she walked out of my life.
Soon, the doctor enters and I like him immediately. He's young-ish, and has a friendly manner. After a few questions, it's drop trou and here comes the digit! Then he tells me he's going to schedule the biopsy. "It takes about fifteen minutes here in the office and you'll be able to drive yourself to and from the appointment if you wish." Then we're on our way to the front desk for the appointment and some literature about prostates, biopsy and how to prep for the biopsy (JOY!).
"You can take two laxatives the night before, or an enema two hours before the biopsy," she tells me.
Then it's over and I'm on my way to work...and ready to ask everyone I know who has been through the procedure about a biopsy...what's involved, does it hurt?
Friday, November 4, 2011
The "C" word surfaces
The doctor comes bounding into the room in his usual way and sits down. He then proceeds to tell me the blood work came back and everything looks great with the exception of my PSA. OK, heard it before Doc, just get to the, "We're going to monitor it every six months for the next year," part.
"Your PSA has climbed to 5.6, so I'm referring you for a prostate biopsy (gulp) and if it's cancer, we'll just send you to Columbus for robotic surgery and take care of it. Take this out to the girl at the desk and she'll schedule an appointment with the Urologist. Any questions?"
Ummmmm...yeah, about a thousand beginning with, "WHAT? What the hell happened to monitoring? Is this thing gonna hurt? What do you mean cancer? Is this thing gonna hurt? Can I still drink? And, is this thing gonna hurt" but what I say is, "Nope!"
I hand the paper to the lady at the desk, she calls the Urologist and schedules an appointment for me on August 24 with Dr. Peck (no jokes please). Then I get in my car, call Lucia and tell her I've been referred for a biopsy (horrible word, biopsy). Then I go back to work, but all I can think about is what might be in front of me (or in the case of the biopsy, as I understand it...behind me). The two weeks before the appointment are filled with all manner of thoughts, sleepless hours, and remaining falsely brave to the world.
I contact friends I know have been through the whole prostate cancer thing and they begin my education. I've got a lot to learn and absolutely no desire to do so. And now...Here's Dr. Peck!
"Your PSA has climbed to 5.6, so I'm referring you for a prostate biopsy (gulp) and if it's cancer, we'll just send you to Columbus for robotic surgery and take care of it. Take this out to the girl at the desk and she'll schedule an appointment with the Urologist. Any questions?"
Ummmmm...yeah, about a thousand beginning with, "WHAT? What the hell happened to monitoring? Is this thing gonna hurt? What do you mean cancer? Is this thing gonna hurt? Can I still drink? And, is this thing gonna hurt" but what I say is, "Nope!"
I hand the paper to the lady at the desk, she calls the Urologist and schedules an appointment for me on August 24 with Dr. Peck (no jokes please). Then I get in my car, call Lucia and tell her I've been referred for a biopsy (horrible word, biopsy). Then I go back to work, but all I can think about is what might be in front of me (or in the case of the biopsy, as I understand it...behind me). The two weeks before the appointment are filled with all manner of thoughts, sleepless hours, and remaining falsely brave to the world.
I contact friends I know have been through the whole prostate cancer thing and they begin my education. I've got a lot to learn and absolutely no desire to do so. And now...Here's Dr. Peck!
Thursday, November 3, 2011
My prostate's adventure begins...
About two months ago, I arrived home and saw the message light on the answering machine blinking. Pushing the button, I heard the doctor's office reporting my routine physical blood work had come back and the doctor wanted to see me due to an "abnormal" PSA. No big deal, I've been through this before...an elevated PSA is something I've lived with for a few years; we're watching it, but no alarm.
With a PSA above 4, we began watching the readings to get some sense of the rate of increase. It did climb, but at a rate the doctor felt comfortable with for a patient my age (I was probably 57, or so, when we began monitoring). I knew what we were going to talk about, so I felt comfortable waiting.
And thus began my adventure leading to surgery less than three weeks from today. Prostate cancer is something men don't talk about enough...women talk about breast cancer all the time (OK, OK...I know, "Boobs are a lot more fun than prostates." but that's not the point.). We need to talk more about this, so I'm going to chronical my journey...it's been interesting, scary, funny (yes, funny), and very eye-opening.
So climb onboard and follow me; heck, I don't even know where we're going in the future...but you're invited to come along. And I encourage you to talk back to me, tell me your story, offer advice, whatever...but let's talk!
With a PSA above 4, we began watching the readings to get some sense of the rate of increase. It did climb, but at a rate the doctor felt comfortable with for a patient my age (I was probably 57, or so, when we began monitoring). I knew what we were going to talk about, so I felt comfortable waiting.
And thus began my adventure leading to surgery less than three weeks from today. Prostate cancer is something men don't talk about enough...women talk about breast cancer all the time (OK, OK...I know, "Boobs are a lot more fun than prostates." but that's not the point.). We need to talk more about this, so I'm going to chronical my journey...it's been interesting, scary, funny (yes, funny), and very eye-opening.
So climb onboard and follow me; heck, I don't even know where we're going in the future...but you're invited to come along. And I encourage you to talk back to me, tell me your story, offer advice, whatever...but let's talk!
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