January 31st First appointment with specialist, Dr G.
He seems a youngish guy – 40 something – I’ve been told he has an excellent reputation. He gets right to the point. They are going to take about 13 needles full of tissue from the gland itself. Under a general anaesthetic the “entry options” are either via the penis (ow) via the bum (sterility issues) or the preferred- the area between the balls and the anus. That sounds much better to me too. It’s a day clinic thing – into the Private Hospital early in the morning and out early afternoon. The procedure is booked for March 13th and I’m sent to have another blood test on my way out the door.
Feb 21st
I receive a phone call from Pam (Dr G’s assistant). She tells me they have a vacancy first thing Monday morning next (Feb 26th) and want to do the biopsy procedure then. That suits me- let’s get it over with. I’m still thinking- this is a total waste of time.
Good mate Silvio, kindly volunteers to be my driver for the day, taking me into the hospital and collecting me afterwards. When I had a knee job done 2 years ago he did the same thing. I feel awkward about disrupting his schedule yet again (for nothing).
Monday Feb 26th
Silvio sleeps at my place the night before so we are ready for the early start, to be at the Hospital by 6.45 as instructed. All goes to plan and I’m told I’m going to be the “first cab off the rank” that day. As usual, fill the obligatory forms, pay some money to the hospital and am then taken to the admission part. Have to put on the usual light green garb with the split up the back – complete with the paper cap and get into bed. It seems I have to keep answering the same questions over and over- no I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since late last night and yes I did give myself an enema early this morning. The Anaesthetist comes around – she seems to be a nice middle aged lady and seems to have a sense of humour – especially when she asks about my smoking habits and I tell her I do but I don’t inhale. They give me a pre med injection and put in a needle thing into my left hand. It all feels pretty cool actually- I’m slightly enjoying the tipsy feeling when they wheel me for what seems like a short while. I vaguely recall we arrive somewhere and that’s it- whammo- I wake up in a room somewhere else with a garbed lady asking me if I would like a cup of tea and something to eat. The “something to eat” is some really nice sandwiches.
Once dressed I’m told Silvio has been called to collect me and Dr G will see me before I leave.
We wait a while as Dr G has been caught up- he arrives apologetic – the usual stuff, all went well and phone us tomorrow afternoon for the results. We leave and I’m still apologising to Silvio for wasting his time. I’m not in any pain but just a mild ache is about as much as I can feel. I’m already putting my thoughts back onto my work projects and imagining walking into my Doctors clinic “soon” to say “well that’s all clear- now what?”
Tuesday Feb 27th.
I’m working from home this morning – remind myself not to forget to ring Dr G after lunch to get the all clear and keep on working.
10.15 am the phone goes- it is Pam from Dr G’s. In an instant my life changes as she says, “Dr G would like to see you at 2 o’clock this afternoon – and please bring a friend with you”. She goes on to add, “It’s just that he’s got some important things to say and two sets of ears are always better than one”. Yeah right! I think. I’ve already got the picture. I get off the phone – my mind is in a whirl. Everything I thought before- every reality has changed. I don’t even know how to react.
Immediately I think, well I’ve got “it” but how far has it spread? I try to console myself with the thought that he only examined the prostate didn’t he?- so if it has spread further he wouldn’t know anyhow – would he? Those thoughts only make it worse. Why the friend bit? It must be really bad. No one is around so I say “shit and fuck” loudly several times over hoping somehow it might help but it doesn’t.
I know I have to ring Silvio but I also know it’s his recording day in the studio and he won’t be able to be the one to accompany me and I know that will upset him. I ring him- he is likewise stunned- I’m relatively calm on the outside but inside I’m churning. I have another person in mind whom I can phone – long time friend and work colleague, Luke. I ring him and ask if he’s free- he is. I congratulate him telling him he has just won a lottery etc and is about to go through a “new experience”
We turn up at 2pm- Dr G is delayed a while. Finally get in there and he says “I’m not going to beat about the bush, you have prostate cancer”. After this morning’s phone call it’s no surprise but just hearing it still kinda stuns me. I’m pretty calm – how am I meant to react?
He starts to explain- 13 needles of tissue = 3 positive – 2 from the same tumour category 5 (as bad as you can get) and one lesser, smaller category 4, mainly on the right side of the prostate. “By the way”, he mentions “I never told you before the procedure but your last PSA test you did came back reading 8.7 (a rise of 2 points in a month).
He goes on to explain that the best course of action is to either remove or neutralise the gland. I’m too big (fat) to operate normally- it would be too difficult. He gets me on the couch again to prod around and confirms his thoughts. Robotic surgery might be a good option- or else Brachytherapy.
Before anything else- next step is to do CT scans and bone scans to make sure the cancer hasn’t spread. He’s confident it hasn’t because I’m “thankfully” so early stages. If it hasn’t spread he says I’ve got a 95% chance of beating it and being cancer free in five years- that’s a pretty good bet I reckon!
He adds that once it has been confirmed “no secondaries” they will put me onto Hormone therapy- which will shrink the prostate and stop the cancer from spreading while further assessments are done to decide which treatment is appropriate for me- to be done some months ahead.
Doc is generous with his time and continues to answer all questions matter of factly. The stuff he tells us about the side effects such as impotence and incontinence almost seem surreal at this time- my mind is still concentrating on the survival aspect so I barely take it all in, just noting “things are going to become very different” in a lot of ways.
I wryly note that many of the questions are now coming from Luke who has been clearly “overtaken” by the experience. When we leave he can only say, “Shit Dan! When I woke up this morning I had no idea I would go through something like this today- how do you feel?” I admit if I really think about it I want to stand on a mountain top and scream. I didn’t tell him the reason I say this is because I’m mainly thinking of all the disruption to my life and I’m not really sure “how” to react anyhow. I’ve been around too long to get into the puerile “why me?” routine. I like to think I’m a realist and have known for many years that life is really “why not me!”
Anything can happen to any one of us at any time – I can only be grateful that it’s not something worse and will take the “good bits” that I can, out of the things to come.
Luke is younger than me by about 8 years– I’m already thinking, this is good – my experience will help spread the word to another man – who needs to know.
Not sure now what to tell people. Have decided to only tell people really close that I have to tell, until I have been cleared of “secondaries” because that in itself will determine “the gravity” of my story. I am hoping to be able to put out something that while it is negative- also has a huge positive side.
I get home and ring to arrange the CT scans and bone scan- schedule CT scan Thursday and bone Scan Friday.
Thursday March 1st
p> CT scan day. I turn up and have to drink three raspberry flavoured weird tasting drinks over the preceding hour. I am then taken through and put onto “the machine”. It all goes routinely- the staff seem cheerful and I take heart later when they don’t ask me to stay back for more (which can be a sign that there is something there). Friday March 2nd
Bone Scan Day. Very similar to the day before on a slightly bigger scale. The drink is taken three hours before they put you on the scanner – plus there is a small injection then you lie on the table and “move in and out of the machine”. I am quietly amused the way they set you up then leave the room to carry out the procedure from an adjacent lead-lined room.
The “operator” tells me she is amazed at the number of people she sees coming through there but adds – “from now on you will be treated and monitored so count yourself lucky” – I do – but please, God – let there not be any secondaries!
I ring Pam at Dr G’s who tells me she will get the results on Saturday morning and put them in front of Dr G- she will then call me.
Saturday March 3rd.
Nothing happens. I wait for the phone to go but it doesn’t. I phone my friend Noelene, who is a font of information about Specialists and the way they operate (due to a professional association). She assures me no news is good news and reminds me they (specialists) always get caught up and disrupted so don’t worry. I feel anxious regardless as so much seems to depend on this phone call.
Sunday March 4th
I go over to my friend Bill’s place (as I do most Sundays) to have morning tea on the veranda. I am surprised by a phone call from Pam to tell me Doc still hasn’t seen my files because he has been diverted in coming into the surgery but she can confirm the tests are all negative so Doc will be in touch. Great news- Noelene was right -I’m very relieved.
Dan Jarrett - one man’s journey battling prostate cancer includes a diary, resources and blog. We look at things in layman’s terms and discuss matters such as sex openly covering things that the medics don’t tell you.
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