It sounds like something out of a zombie apocalypse movie sequel. Where the zombie infection remanifests itself to lapse into a new outbreak of zombies stronger, faster and deadlier! Or something from a Covid or Eboli outbreak movie where the next strain is deadlier than the first. For me it holds almost the same level of dread. As I sit here and write this, I await the outcome of my PSA blood test from last Thursday. It’s Tuesday now. The week of Thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for. My life has been a blessing. I don’t want it to stop. Just keep going. Keep working. Keep doing the things I like and love to do. Chug Chug Chug along.
But what if…. When I found out I had cancer. All I could think about was what now!? How do I deal with this disease in me, owning me, infesting me, killing me!! Get it out! Of course this was the first reaction. So, I had the surgery and now it’s gone? Not the case. When reviewing my options radiation was a suggested option. Get it zapped. Kill it and everything else around my pelvic area. When speaking with the radiologist, he was very factual and matter of fact in regard to my situation. He painted the reality of my position, and you can read about my decision to do RALP over radiation here. During that visit he stated that when doing the surgery to remove your prostate, the actual act of cutting out the cancerous prostate, that some cancerous cells will likely escape or possibly have already escaped the prostate. That the cancer is already in my blood stream. It is there and it is a matter of your body to control it, keep it at bay, to overcome it by fighting it, but in time it may recur.
Needless to say, when I left that consultation, my world was at an end. And my new world began. Biochemical Recurrence. You can read research paper after research paper about the statistical information of prostate cancer and its biochemical recurrence. For instance, here is one from JAMA. As I read them, I position myself in them. Out of a study of x number of men this is when this percentage of them died, and then this is when this many died, etc. Where am I? What percentage am I? Oh, it’s harrowing to think about. But what do I do this is my life now. I made it to my 2-year mark last month and posted about my lucky stars thinking this was an important milestone, and it is. But the study breaks down the recurrence interval in several stages. The first 3 years, the 4-to-7-year and after 8-year stage. Essentially, I’m half-way there for stage one. My overall odds of overcoming are much greater after hitting the 4-to-7-year stage and I’ll likely die of something else at the 8-year stage (keeping my fingers crossed for this one).
I hope and pray for no recurrence. I wait for my results. I accept my fate whichever direction it goes. Do I have a choice? What does an increase in my PSA mean? It means my sequel has started and I’ll need to face a new direction.
I’m not alone and I feel very lucky for where I am. Although I accept my fate, I count my blessings, and I’m glad for the people around me who support me and lift me up. For instance, my brother. He is dealing with his own cancer battles, dealing with colon cancer. He himself is in remission after undergoing surgery. He leaves the research papers and statistics to others. He focuses on living his life and squeezing every ounce out of it. I went to dinner with him, his wife Monica and my nephew Chris on Wednesday. It was his birthday. We had such a great time. This Wednesday my wife, sons and I head up to my daughter in Maryland for our first Thanksgiving there. I’m so looking forward to it. To be with the people I love and to share some quality time together. Happy Thanksgiving.
