Full Circle

It feels like a part of my journey has come full circle today as I passed along my remaining Viagra to a friend who recently had robotic surgery (good news, it appears all nerves were spared).

His prescription for Viagra was much like mine (half a tablet each day for up to 180 days) and his insurance, also much like mine, allowed only a few tablets each month (the fact the subject prescription is for therapeutic, not recreational, use has no bearing on the insurance company's policy).  I delivered the tablets to his wife who works in an office close to mine.  As I walked down the street, I found myself adopting what I imagined to be a drug dealer's swagger and singing the Steppenwolf song, "God Damn the Pusherman." 

The financial burden to complete the prescribed course of medication is daunting to say the least.  It was good to be able to pass along nearly 100 days worth of the medication in the hopes he will recover as quickly as did I and be able to pass along some of his prescription to another prostatectomy patient.  I did not follow through on my Viagra Bank idea, but I still believe it has merit.

And so, another chapter is closed on the road to recovery....can't get that tune out of my head (we really did have the best music).

Deja Vu (is that how you spell that?)

It's been several months since my last post. I was shaken from my lethargy by a visit with a friend who's husband was diagnosed with PC today sporting a Gleason of 9. She is, understandably, upset and fearful, but she said they had spoken of me on the way home as a poster-child for survival (not sure that's warranted, but I'm happy to fill any role that helps during, what I remember as, a very difficult time).

What I recall best is the feeling of isolation and complete confusion as to what the best course of action to choose. No one, at least no doctor, will tell you what you should do and you're left alone to make what may well be the biggest decision of your life. As I've mentioned elsewhere in this blog, one of the most confusing factors in the decision process is the apparent equality of outcomes for each type of treatment.

The role of the spouse at this time (although it's critical throughout the ordeal) cannot be over emphasized. While just as frightened as the husband (maybe more), the spouse can only look on and be supportive while her mate struggles with the diagnosis and the decision. The male doesn't know what the outcome will be, and what will be left of his “maleness” following treatment. He is, therefore, likely to occasionally be an asshole and difficult to be around. Been there, done that. Men are still stuck in early adolescence...and the thought we may have to wear a diaper, or not be able to “perform” signals an end to our masculinity...in our mind.

All of this just makes the decision process that much more difficult. The next few weeks of further testing and decisions will be difficult for my friends, but we will be there with them whenever possible (and invited). And I'm glad I can add some perspective from a rearview mirror much as Norbert Peiker and Ken Jones provided me.