My therapeutic rantings

So here we are......

2011-12-05T22:05:00.001-05:00

Anthony & I were working on a blog at the time he passed away on Dec 1/2011. The title above is the first words of his unfinished entry which I will post now. It will forever remain unfinished by him however I believe I can shed some light on where he was going with it.

"So here we are, it's finally happening, or so it seems. My current prognosis is 0-3 months, maybe 6. Ironically enough, Christmas has become a factor once again. My family, my friends, my smiling angel & I are still holding our heads up high. Knowing that miracles can happen & believing it gives us all hope that OUR current situation (and it is OUR situation as we are all doing it together) could play out differently then what the Doctors have told us irrespective of the reality that is still affecting us all.

It has been quite a ride & I don't mean for it to sound like I am giving up because I am not but there are certain realities that do require facing at this juncture...."

That is as far as we got however much discussion was held between us prior to beginning the writing of the actual entry. He wanted to let everyone know that he would not give up & he did not, not in any small way did he ever give up. Cancer destroyed his body, it was powerless to destroy his spirit. He wanted everyone to know he had found peace & deep love in his life in many places. It was important to Anthony that he tell us all how strong he knew we were & he asked me to make sure that we all take care of each other (we will baby, don't you worry about that). I am also pretty sure he asked all his friends & several of mine to take care of me too (and I am certain they will), he worried about me & all he loved with a selflessness that astounded me. He wanted to say that he had come to terms with his cancer & the end of his life. There was some anger, some regret but not too much of either considering what he faced on a daily basis for the last 2 years. Some discussions were of unfairness but he never talked about how unfair it was to him, only those of us he loved. Mostly though, in his last days when we talked, Anthony talked about living, loving, laughing, crying, sorrow & how to grieve (yes he left some instructions for us, imagine that!) and his gratefulness for his life & all of those who loved him. He was amazed we would take on the project of caring for him at home & accepted that care gracefully. He was surrounded by love in his last days & moments just as he should have been & I believe that love & the power of it is what allowed him to go. He fought as long & hard as he could & he was looking forward to an end to the pain & suffering he endured daily. He told me this & I believed him. He was unafraid. He had a few regrets he wanted to share even though he thought it was "kind of depressing" but it was important to him that readers see the reality so they will take steps to protect themselves and their loved ones, He regretted that he had so much more to learn & see & show & give & would not get the chance to do so, and, the fact that the ones he left behind would suffer sorrow & pain.

So that's some of what was on Anthony's mind. Alot to digest perhaps, hopefully some good food for thought. Stay tuned.

Back again.

2011-09-26T16:11:00.003-04:00

Living is a funny thing when it's the only thing you are doing. There is a difference between simply living and actually having a life. Being in my current condition, which is essentially, disabled, my days just flow together into one long day that never really starts or ends. Being out of the "rat race" does some strange things to your perspective. I`ll get back to that in a minute

A quick update on how things are going from the medical side of my life, there is little change. I'm still sleeping like a cat (hence very little blogging, among other things) I have to use a cane to walk now, and glasses to read. Steps are a problem, and I can`t drive right now because of my eyes, but I have been feeling an improvement in my circumstances. It could have something to do with my current drug intake. I just started a new treatment which is four rather large pills once daily. So, as of today, I am consuming 39 pills every 24 hours! (and if I don`t take them my body feels it) This can be tricky business to stay on top of, especially with my long sleeping hours.
Sleeping through my pain killer intake is the worst for me personally but irrespective of that there are still four children that require as much attention as I can give and I also have to find time eat. I went down to 135lbs when I was on chemo. I am currently at 140lbs and holding. I have been trying to increase my caloric intake with supplements and energy drinks but again, my increased need for sleep hinders my ability to stay on top of it. There is also the fact that my appetite is weak and the numbness in my face and lips (the radiation did not work as well as hoped, also related to my eye problem) can discourage me sometimes from eating as much as I should.

It amazes me how I essentially have free reign with my 24 hour days and yet sometimes still don`t have enough time to do everything that needs doing. We take for granted our ability to do so many things and use that ability to distract ourselves from life by keeping ourselves busy all the time so we don`t have to think about the important stuff, y'know, life, the universe, and everything.

I wanted to expound on this a little further but my eyes are just not cooperating so I'm gonna cut it short and try again later.

Cheers to all, I hope life is being good to you.

Strange days.

2011-08-07T01:01:00.001-04:00

The world is a different place for me now.
My world is one of disconnection from what others might call reality.
I am a star, but also a spectator.
A star due to the attention given to me by Doctors, Nurses, Technologists of all kinds trying to "cure" me, and also from the attention and favour showered upon me by my loved ones.
A spectator due to my inability to to participate in so many things that I took for granted previously.

These past several weeks I've been put through the wringer; physically, emotionally, spiritually. There have been good moments, but overall, it's been very challenging and based on my itinerary for the next several weeks it isn't about to get any easier. I have been radiated and chemo-ed almost to death, with little positive affect, [Not zero, but not enough for me.] and now I'm joining a clinical study to test a new drug with hopes of greater success. [Hope...hmm...sometimes I feel I'm running short on that.] This battle has taken me to places that I never imagined. I was...naive perhaps, maybe a little too hopeful? I have felt my strength waning, my resolve...dissolving. It's not been pleasant. But...I am currently on an up swing, my strength and my resolve are growing once more, and I am going to ride that train to it's fullest, because right now, that train is all I've got.

The "Sandman" is doing overtime.

2011-06-28T06:06:00.001-04:00

I've been sleeping since last Thursday. I wake up long enough to pee, sometimes I can grab a bite to eat, and then down I go. My most recent chemo treatment, which came the day before that, has been a little harder on me than most.

According to my Doctor the chemo has successfully lowered my PSA count to a point where he is considering beginning a new form of treatment which will have less side effects. Unfortunately it has also lowered the platelets in my blood, which apparently is the cause of my unwanted slumber. Due to this uncontrollable need for sleep I have been unable to conduct my customary amount of research to determine how this actually works so I'm kind of flying blind right now with regards to how I'm feeling and what I might do to help rectify the situation.

I'm told that a blood transfusion is required to get my counts back up and allegedly make me feel better, so, that is where I'm going today.

I hope it works so the "sandman" can take some time off and I can stay awake for more than 45 minutes at a time.

Ah, here he is now. Time for another nap.

Chemo sucks!

2011-05-15T23:01:00.000-04:00

Eleven days! It's been eleven days since my last chemo treatment and I am only now able to stay awake for longer than six consecutive hours. It's been a rough ride this time around.
I know this stuff is supposed to help me, to make me better, but sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. It knocks the shit out of me and leaves me feeling pretty low.
The battle continues...

Here comes the sun.

2011-04-21T09:42:00.000-04:00

Radiation is done, chemo continues, summer is coming, and I feel pretty good.

I'm still a little disappointed that I haven't acquired spider powers from my experience ;-), I guess I'll just have to improvise.
I did get a pretty nifty mask out of the deal. Maybe I should start shopping for a cape.

Bring on the summer...I can't wait!

Some heartfelt advice.

2011-04-11T18:26:00.000-04:00

I sit, and I wonder... a lot. [I suppose that's what happens when you get pulled out of the daily grind and your not distracted by the mundaneness that makes up most of our day to day lives.] I ponder over the infinite possibilities -the opportunities- that present themselves to us with every passing moment of our finite existence, the love that binds us together and the avarice that threatens to tear us apart, if we allow it.

This cancer that tries to grow within my shell, that tries to kill it, has been a blessing as well as a curse, on so many levels. I have felt the joy of an outpouring of love and kindness from familiars and strangers alike. I've had conversations and experiences that I'm sure would not have occurred if not for this "threat" that hangs over my head. Dare I be thankful for this curse as a result of the joy that has juxtaposed itself with it? It seems contradictory and yet... on some level I don't think that it can be avoided. Don't get me wrong, I have known (and felt) the love and joy that we all have and are capable of sharing, long before a Doctor found a "nodule" growing on my prostate, it just seems that it takes some kind of tragedy (or impending one) for us to truly let loose and let those around us know how we really feel, about them and sometimes even ourselves.

I have claimed more than one purpose for this rambling blog of mine; education of men's health, quick and easy updates on my condition for the people who care, a place for me to vent. Today, I think I'd like to add another...to remind people that love is a verb, not a noun.
When was the last time you, dear reader, told someone close to you that you love them? Mother, Father, Brother, Sister, Spouse, Children, Friend? I'll bet it's been awhile, and I think I know why; for some reason that word makes people squirm. For that discomfort I have no explanation. Perhaps it reminds us of feelings that we selfishly try to keep to ourselves for fear of appearing weak or vulnerable to others. [Which is the opposite of how I think it should make us feel] Whatever the reason for that, my advice to you is quite simple: do it anyway.

You might be surprised at just how good it makes both of you feel.

Chemotherapy, quite a ride.

2011-04-05T17:11:00.000-04:00

I have now had two chemo treatments. After the first one the most noticeable affect that I experienced was an irresistible urge to sleep. All the time. Whenever I was not eating or going to the bathroom I was sleeping. That lasted for almost a week. This time around was slower to start, I didn't start sleeping until well into the second day, but so far the effect is the same. I think I may be coming out of it now [at least I hope so] so I thought I'd do a little writing to try and keep me up.

Aside from the sleeping the chemo appears to be doing what it's supposed to do. I have no pain, which is a big one for me. Although, my face is almost completely numb now, making eating somewhat of a challenge, but fortunately not impossible, so it's not doing much to combat the growth in my orbital bone. I have a series of radiation treatments coming up which will hopefully alleviate that problem. They had to make a mask which is molded to my face in order to keep me perfectly still during the "zapping" process. It's kinda neat, I might post a picture of it when we're done, (I get to keep it) it might make a neat profile pic.

Spiritually I'm feeling pretty good, overall. There is a lot of frustration from the fact that I'm weak as a kitten (and sleeping like one) and sometimes that brings me down, but I have a tremendous amount of love and support from my Friends and Family that keeps me strong and optimistic. Sometimes I think the power of that love is more healing for me than all of these treatments and medications combined! It certainly feels that way most of the time. If it wasn't for that I'm sure that I would probably be dead already. If there is one thing that I have learned from this challenging experience it's that the power of love is very real! It should never be underestimated, or taken for granted.

I guess that's all for now. I'm gonna have a shower and attempt to join the land of the living for a little while. Or maybe I'll have a quick nap. haha.

Peace.

Pot pourri...An update, An inspiring story.

2011-03-11T18:25:00.001-05:00

I have noticed in this life that sometimes things will get [or at least feel like they are getting] stagnant, or routine for what seems like long periods of time. But then, suddenly, there is a whirlwind of activity. Events (that are usually, but not always, out of our control) begin to occur and before you know it, change -lots of it- has touched you. Some of it is good, some of it is bad, all of it must be dealt with.

In the past 4-5 weeks a lot has happened in my life. I have traveled on an airplane for the first time, and visited a foreign country. The side effects of that trip alone have brought much change in my life. The most noticeable one, for me, is the way my relationship with my previously mentioned 15 year old Son has changed. He did not attend the trip with me and the time apart has done magical things to both of our perspectives towards each other. Our relationship since my return has been one of loving, understanding, and caring for each other in a way that we have not done (either of us) since he was much younger. [before he became a "teen-age Parent hater"] I've had lots of ups and downs with regards to my health, vomiting and fatigue (although we seem to have stopped the vomiting) I had to do another enema, it went much better than last time, but still not as much fun as say...not doing it! I've had to stop driving. My Doctor is concerned because of the blurriness I am getting as a result of the cancer in my orbital bone. So, I've had to stop working again as well and start all kinds of new tests and medications, including chemotherapy.

Chemo is an interesting treatment. There are a lot of different Doctors with their specialty knowledge that get involved to ensure that the treatment I am receiving is the best one suited for me and my unique condition. An orthopedic surgeon almost put the kibosh on my chemo because he believed that he had spotted a crack in my right hip bone on my most recent CT scan, which, if true, would require corrective surgery. But he took a plain x-ray and determined that it was okay for now and the chemo could proceed. He still wants another CT scan in 4 weeks, which kinda has me worried, but hey, take em as they come. Too much worry at one time is impossible to bear. The chemo treatment itself seems to have gone well. No adverse side effects have reared their ugly head as of yet, although I've been told to expect things like hair loss, brittle and discolored nails, mouth sores, maybe some rash, but so far all is good. Fatigue is my main battle right now. I've been sleeping like a cat ever since the treatment, more hours asleep than awake, but it feels good. I don't know how long to expect it to last, hopefully not too long, I'd like to get back into the world of activity again as soon as possible. But then there's the "quarantine". My immune system being weakened now by the chemo, I have to avoid all illness of any kind. If I get a fever I need to go directly to my nearest Hospital to be treated immediately. [Do not pass GO, do not collect $200.00.] It's pretty serious shit.

Anyways, I think I've rambled on enough and I wanted to end this post with what I think is an inspiring and heart rending story. One of those "circle of life" kinda things. Or, at the very least, another example of how (possibly) the idea of six degrees of separation is all we have.

Life really is a magical and mysterious experience. One of my very close friends recently lost his Mother to an incurable illness. A sad and tragic thing, but I'm glad that I can be here for him, to support and love him, and I hope that I have helped him through it in some small way.
On the other side of my "world" another dear and old friend of mine, one who has been struggling a little bit with finding decent employment that is also close to home, just started a new job that fits that criteria and low and behold...it's the position previously held by my first friends Mother! Astounding! (to me, at least.) It amazes me sometimes, how the energies flow, how sometimes there is familiarity in places you would never expect as voids get filled with new life.

...and now, the weather.

2011-02-11T04:35:00.000-05:00

How can life be so contradictory?
So good and so bad at the same time?
Or, is the bad stuff simply a problem created by our own perceptions?

So, now I get into how all of this makes me feel. Most of this is not new. It's been tough, at times. It's what I imagine a manic-depressive personality must live like. The good days are so good, almost unbelievably so, and the bad days are, well...like being on rock bottom. I've had four "emotional breakdowns" in the past few weeks. They come without warning or provocation, and they are...unpleasant. However, the times in between those unfortunate events are almost joyous. I am still loving and enjoying all aspects of life and living, even the things that would normally be a nuisance to me. Most of the time I am able to find humor in it, which brings laughter, and the laughter brings me joy.
There is a new dynamic though, one that usually finds it's way into my head and heart during times like these, the uncertain times, when there are problems with my health that make the cancer fight more real for me because I feel it, the pain, the numbness, all the physical manifestations that come with this wonderful affliction, when the cancer appears to have the upper hand.
That dynamic is this; I am afraid to make plans because I might not be able to fulfill them, and I don't want to die feeling that disappointment. I need to make peace with myself, to be as satisfied as possible with my life, as it is and as it was, in order to lessen the despair that I know will come as my time gets closer. Dying like this is extremely challenging. I have all this time to think about shit like this, but not enough time to think about or plan a life. I know that this line of thinking sounds like something a person who has "given up" might follow, but this isn't about giving up, it's about facing the reality so that I can be as prepared as is humanly possible, (for me) emotionally and mentally, for the inevitable.
I don't know that I will ever be fully prepared for, or accepting of, my ultimate fate [in fact, I'm sure that I will never be, but, I can try] however, my primary concern is not always me, but the people that I will be "leaving behind". My children, my lover, my friends and Family; the ones who love me as I love them. I feel despair for them...all this time that I have to think about it, sometimes it overwhelms me. So, I try to not think about it too much and instead try to focus on creating positive memories for them. Good times together that can be remembered fondly. Realistically, that is all that I can do, so I try to stick with the program and not let my fears get in the way.
There is one problem with that strategy that I am having right now though, that is weighing heavily on my heart. My relationship with my 15 year old Son. I have somehow managed to completely alienate him. He lives with me, we see each other every day, but he never talks to me anymore. He doesn't even say hello to me when he comes home from school or when I come home from work. I know it sounds like an exaggeration but it isn't. I don't know what to do about it. I try to reach out to him, open some kind of dialogue, but he keeps pushing me away. It breaks my heart to see him so angry with me all of the time, but I will not give up. Failure is not an option here. He is stubborn and exhausting, his perseverance and strength of will are enviable, I just wish he would use those talents for something more positive than pushing me out of his life. I will be writing more about him soon.

Sometimes the bad stuff is simply a problem created by our own perceptions, other times we need to change our perceptions of the bad stuff, in order to create solutions that are positive and based on love...
Or something like that.

First, the news...

2011-02-07T21:33:00.000-05:00

A medical update: The results of the bone scan and latest bloodwork indicate that my current medication [the stuff that's supposed to be fighting the cancer] is not working as we had hoped. My options are running out. My Oncologist says that my next move is either chemotherapy or radiation. He favors chemo, however, because of my upcoming trip he is reluctant to begin either treatment. The radiation would have to be done in a scheduled manner which conflicts with the trip and the chemo would weaken my immune system and pose a possible threat to my health given that the Dominican doesn't have quite the same health standards as we do in North America. Nor do they have a health system that is comparable, which would increase the risk to me even further.
In light of all of this, he decided to try a new medication, something to "tide me over" until after the trip. That transition has not gone well. I began taking the new medication on Friday. Saturday the pain started, similar to the pain I have described here in the past, and the numbness in my face has increased to the point where I have to be careful when I'm chewing my food or I might chew up the inside of my mouth because I can't feel it. Last night I phoned Sunnybrook and spoke to a Doctor who was able to give me a new regimen for pain control based on the meds that I currently have, and so far, it appears to be working, which is good, because I really hate the fucking pain. I am currently waiting for a phone call from my oncologist. He will probably adjust the dosage of my new meds and I will watch for (and record) any changes that occur.
The battle [which is feeling more like an experiment than a fight] will continue.

So, there's the news...the weather is next. Stay tuned.

The battle continues.

2011-01-31T00:58:00.000-05:00

Life is busy. A lot has happened in my life, and to me, in the past several weeks. The Holidays were spectacular. [I got lots of quality time, with quality people.] I inspired a friend to get "checked out" based on some symptoms he has been having. [Because ignoring it is just not an option with me.] My Brother has invited me on a trip to the Dominican, and I have accepted. My first plane trip. [Planes scare the shit out of me, but I'm going.] I lost a friend, who was two years younger than me, to complications from a blood clot in his leg. [Attending the celebration of his life was...interesting] And of course my battle continues to rage on.

Last week I woke up with numbness in my face. I didn't think much of it until the following day. I was talking to my Oncologist about the trip, to see if he had any special concerns that I should be aware of, and he asked me if I had experienced any changes in my condition. When I told him about the numbness he told me to come in to see him right away. He thinks the cancer in my right orbital bone is spreading and pinching nerves in my skull. He scheduled me for another bone scan [Which I had last Thursday, no results yet] and noted that my psa levels are going back up. If his suspicions are correct then it means my meds have stopped working -again- and there are only two options: chemo or radiation. [maybe both?] I don't like the idea of either treatment for several reasons, but the most immediate one is that either treatment would require me to take quite a bit of time off work, and that makes things pretty tight around here. There has also been some pain, but so far, it is manageable.

Lots of ups and downs.
I feel a rant coming, but not tonight. Maybe after I get the test results.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T10:56:00.000-05:00

It's Christmas Day.
I am surrounded by, and filled, with love.
It's very good.
I hope it's good for you too.

Peace and love to all.

Just me.

2010-12-16T15:47:00.001-05:00

I can't tell you how many times I've sat down at this computer wanting desperately to post something positive, maybe even "up beat". I've been failing at it miserably...but hopefully not today.

I have a lot of amazing things happening in my life right now, amazing people too. Music has become a huge focus in my life. I love to play it, I love to write it. It feels good. It sounds good. It is good. It stimulates my heart and my mind simultaneously. There is only one other thing in life that can do that for me; true love. Lucky for me I have plenty of both.
I also have another year under my belt. At this time last year I could hardly walk and was just about to be diagnosed with cancer. Right now I'm walking, working, playing...anything I want to do, I can. I'm focusing on that; the right now, because right now, things are good.
I'm grateful for a lot of things...everything! I'm happy to be having my glimpse at the universe (such as I can, given our current technological ability to do so), my time to be. It took me around 13 billion years to get here, but I think my timing is pretty good. I have been born in a very special time of our history, and considering what I've read, and even heard about from my elders, how we used to live, I'd say I got a pretty good deal. Strong, secure, and warm shelter. Food on every street corner. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, and airplanes if we want to go really far. All the modern conveniences, from the computer that I'm typing into, right on down, this is a comfortable life for a lot of us. I feel very lucky to be one of the comfortable ones. I am surrounded by Friends and Family who love me, and I love them. We have good times together, making good memories. Life is good, and so is living.

I was given some very valuable, and very helpful, advice a short time ago by a very wise person..."Be, love, breathe, love." Those words, that sentiment, has carried me through some very dark passages in recent days.

I'm grateful for that too.

memento mori

2010-11-29T16:23:00.000-05:00

Just when I thought things might be getting a little better.

Two weeks ago I had a series of CT scans and an MRI. The purpose of these tests was to determine the effect that the cancer is having on my spine. I have been experiencing some numbness/tingling in my fingertips and toes for a few weeks now, maybe over a month, I can't keep track of all this shit anymore. The concern my Doctors had previous to the testing is the degenerative nature of the cancer in my bones and it's effect on my spinal cord as the bones deteriorate. The question was, will it affect my mobility in the future, the use of my legs and possibly my arms. The test results (which I just discussed with my Oncologist an hour ago) have given us an answer. It is no longer a question of if, but when! My legs for certain, my arms are still a maybe. Given the way things have been working out for me I could guess which way the arm thing will go, but I should stay positive, right?
WTF!!
There is a series of treatments that they already started me on which will, in theory, help me to maintain my mobility for as long as possible, but of course they can't say for how long.
This is becoming more difficult for me to deal with on a week to week basis, even day to day is becoming problematic, including right now! I am fucking pissed off! Why is it always bad news? It makes me feel like giving up and just letting it happen, but I can't do that because there are too many people who would not allow me to make that decision.
Maybe it's time that people start to realize that it's not their decision to make, or maybe my anger is clouding my judgement. Either way, it would seem that I have a lot to think about.

Just another selfish rant.

2010-11-21T22:07:00.000-05:00

How the fuck did I get here?

How does a person like me -young, strong, practically a "health nut" when it comes to diet and exercise- fall prey to a cancer that is so aggressive it requires a daily effort to keep it at bay? The only thing keeping me alive right now is modern Medicine. If I had been born 1 generation earlier, my death would probably have come in my 41st year. Is this natural selection? Have I pissed off Mother Earth so strongly that she feels the need to take me out? What the fuck did I do that was so bad?

Science keeps me around. For what?
Since I have had this death sentence imposed upon me I have been inspired to live my life with a passion that cannot be ignored. One example of that is that I love every person that I know in a way that I used to take for granted. I've been trying to nurture relationships with a lot of those people in a way that I probably never would have previously. Some have been successful. Some, not so much...but I'm still working on them, which brings me back to my point; for what? So they can mourn me even more after I'm gone? Am I not just adding to their grief? Why has Science given me this "extra time"? What am I supposed to do with it?

Sometimes I feel like nature doesn't accept me anymore because I'm not actually supposed to be here, and as a result, I find myself feeling...uncomfortable...or maybe uneasy is a better word. I'm not sure, I can't quite peg it, I just feel...off. Like I don't belong in this picture right now. I'm out of place.

I am living and loving to the fullest extent possible [and loving every minute of it] but by doing so I feel like I am somehow taking advantage of these people, the ones I care about the most.
I want to get over that because I love them and I don't like the way I feel when I think about what they will be going through after I die, but I want to get closer to them so I can spend more time with them before I go, and that makes me feel...selfish.
I don't want to hurt anyone.

The real beginning.

2010-10-26T19:45:00.000-04:00

I've been feeling rather...melancholy in recent days. Maybe it's because of all the uncertainty that exists with regards to my treatments (or lack thereof) and current prognosis. Maybe it's the fear of what's going to happen to my kids in the future. Perhaps it's because my most recent PSA test shows my levels are back into triple digits -103- doubled in less than a month. Whatever it is, I have found the resulting hindsight that I have been experiencing to be almost frightening in it's clarity, so, the wordy fuck is back.

I was reading back on this blog recently and I realized that, although I touched on it, I never really described in detail the very first symptoms that I felt leading up to my diagnosis. These "symptoms" were hardly noticeable events that occurred in such a way that I simply chalked them up to getting older and it was just part of that natural process for me, based on my genetics. However, had I recognized what they actually meant and been checked back then, I could have been treated for it and I wouldn't be in this situation right now. I would have been one of the "lucky" ones who caught it before it was too late. I thought it would be in keeping with my desire to help prevent this shit from happening to other people like me if I shared the true genesis of this blessed situation, the small stuff that I ignored until it was too late, so that someone else can hopefully count themselves as one of the lucky ones. I think it's useful information because anyone reading this who recognizes these symptoms in themselves will hopefully do something about it, and I think it's important information because these things were happening to me when I was 35 or 36 years old! Quite a bit younger than the statistics would have you believe that you should be concerned about such things. Also a bit younger than I had originally thought my symptoms started. Like I said, frightening clarity.

I can't remember exactly when the first "event" took place because I didn't think that much of it at the time so I never recorded it anywhere, but I do remember what it was, and I know that I was in my mid-thirties because it happened within a few months (maybe a year, tops) after having moved into my current home.
The very first time I felt something wrong was after a Beaches Jazz festival weekend in 2003 or 2004. I don't remember much about the festival itself, due to the amount of alcohol consumption that took place, but I do remember waking up on Sunday feeling like someone had shoved a baseball up my ass and I couldn't get it out. [I also vomited that morning, which I have never done in my drinking career. I have always done it at night before passing out, it makes the spins go away. I'm not sure if it's relevant, but I thought I'd note it anyway...just in case.] My prostate was so swollen that it was impossible for me to have a bowel movement. I tried, I could feel the need to shit, but nothing could get past that fucking baseball. The problem lasted for about 24 hours, then it went away and I felt fine. Then it happened again. It occurred every once in awhile over the course of several months, not every time I drank, but only when I had been drinking. Then it started happening randomly, irrespective of whether I had been drinking or not, and more often. This is when the urinary problems began. Urgent and frequent need to piss, but a weak flow when it came. It wasn't that bad in the beginning, I thought perhaps I was drinking too much, so I stopped for a few months. It didn't help. I also started having erectile dysfunction. I found that to be a little emasculating and very embarrassing, but Viagra took care of that little problem (quite well in fact) so I didn't worry about that too much. By this time I had done some research and knew that it was my prostate that was "acting up", but again, I was too young to worry about it being cancer, that shit only happens to old people, right?
Right...

I got that attitude partially from listening to the media ads on T.V. and radio that encouraged men my age to go for the old "finger swoop up the shoot". Shitty propaganda because it made you feel like; "Yeah, sure, that's probably a good idea, but I feel fine. Maybe next year." (we used to be inundated with them, but I don't recall having heard or seen one for some time now. Hmm.) Also, from talking to other people about it, including my Family Doctor. A note here: I do not hold my Doctor responsible for this in even the smallest way. He was simply following standard protocols, which are based on statistics and of course the desire to save the taxpayers a little money by not having expensive testing done when the numbers don't warrant it. Bone scans, CT scans, biopsies, all of these things are quite costly. What I blame is those protocols! That is where change is needed, and the only people who can change them is us! The patients! The people who use and rely on this system to keep us healthy and alive for as long as possible.
If YOU, reading this right now, have ever felt anything that resembles what I just described above, you must go to your Family Doctor TODAY and demand a PSA test and get a D.R.E. (Digital Rectal Exam). Not tomorrow, not next week...TODAY!! He/she may hesitate and tell you that you are too young for that, that it's probably something minor like Prostatitis, and they may be right, but, what if they're wrong? Why would you want to take that chance? DON'T take that chance! I did, and look at what it got me. If your Doctor won't do it, tell them my story, or go to another Doctor. I know, the idea of somebody putting their finger up your ass is not very appealing, (to most people anyway) but if it means the difference between seeing your kids grow up (Maybe even see some grand-children) or not? It's a small inconvenience. And, yes, if you have no Family history of cancer, the PSA test will cost you $35.00. Too much? Then think about this; how much money did you spend on Timmys last month? Or beer? Or cigarettes? Weed? Lotteries? Whatever your "thing" is that makes you feel good, but if you didn't have it, it wouldn't kill you? Would it?
Cancer will kill you, IF you allow it to arrive unannounced.
If you're that uncomfortable with your own masculinity and/or too cheap to spend $35.00 on something that might save your life, then, in my estimation, you deserve to die. [Bitter much? Yeah, maybe.] If, however, you can be strong enough to see past all that bullshit, you could spare the people around you, the ones who love you, a lot of pain and heartache. Not to mention the primary benefit to you; remaining upright and breathing for as long as possible.

I don't want to become some kind of preaching fanatic, but this shit is really starting to piss me off! Every time I go to the cancer centre for treatment I see more and more people my age (or younger) being treated for a disease that we just shouldn't have. It's a fucking epidemic and I want to try to do something about it. So, I am begging, pleading with you, dear reader; do NOT ignore your body's signals that something is wrong. The modern world is exposing us to more cancer causing agents than ever before in our history. From the air that we breath to the food that we eat, we are ALL at risk! Age is irrelevant. Early detection is our only savior at this point.
Take advantage of that, while you still can.

Radiation therapy

2010-10-20T23:21:00.000-04:00

I've had yet another experience that is unique to people who have been blessed with cancer.

I had a radiation treatment on October 7th. It was interesting, and a little scary. The procedure itself was not nearly as invasive as the biopsy was, but it was equally thorough.
They line you up with lasers and mark "cross-hairs" on your skin before you get sent to the actual machine that they use to expose you to the radiation. It's very precise. They can irradiate very specific body parts and regions. I didn't see any spiders so I don't think there's much chance of me becoming Spider-man, but one can always hope.

The pain has been far too much for me to deal with so I had to do something to try and improve my quality of life and my Doctors have assured me that the radiation will diminish the pain. So far, their predictions have proven true. Even more than they predicted, and sooner. I was told that I would feel the effects in as little as two weeks or possibly after four but I felt a positive change in the pain almost immediately. The next day it began to lessen and as of now I'm almost entirely off of my pain medication. I still need a little bit, usually in the mornings and the evenings, but I'd estimate my consumption overall to be less than half of what I was taking two weeks ago. There are, however, other side effects which I was told would be felt mostly in the beginning and then would taper off but I have only just started to feel those side effects in the past two or three days. Not much appetite, vomiting, nausea, diarrhea, y'know...the usual suspects. Overall I would call the treatment a success.

November 1st we decide which therapy to try that will have more long term effects, like the hormone therapy was supposed to do. As long as it keeps the pain at bay I'll be happy.

Thanksgiving

2010-10-11T23:28:00.000-04:00

I like Thanksgiving. I am more aware now than ever before of just how much I have to be thankful for. The fact that we, as a society, (in the Western world at least, but it is catching on) have set aside a special day to do just that gives me a glimmer of hope that maybe we won't eventually blow ourselves up or simply destroy the planet so that it can no longer sustain us. It is just a glimmer, but it is hope. However, I digress.
I have come to appreciate so many things that I had previously taken for granted. So many, in fact, that I couldn't even begin to list them all here, but I would like to touch on a few.

The sound and sight of children playing. Laughing and exploring, finding sticks to burn (and play with) in the fire. It's spectacular! I love it! Everything is new to them! Their innocence is invigorating (and often comical) to observe. To see the joy on their faces when they discover something for the first time, like the fact that you can write letters in the air with the smoke from a smoldering stick if you make the motions at just the right speed, and then watch them disappear into the air as you draw your next one to spell a word. (usually peoples names) That genuine happiness that they are feeling in those moments is so...heart warming. It reminds me that life such is a precious gift. There are so many things in life that can bring us joy, even when we are "down", if we could just stop to look at them, as if for the first time.

The stars. I was in Haliburton this weekend. The night sky away from the light pollution of a city is brilliant with stars. The stars I grew up staring at for hours at a time because I was dazzled by them. I don't see them nearly enough anymore (well, sometimes Tuesdays) and being exposed to them for two nights in a row has made me...remember. Remember that innocent feeling of discovery that I felt back then. It's a good feeling.

My Family. Family is a powerful thing, especially if you have a good Family. A Family that loves and cares about each other unconditionally, without judgement or malice. They all live their lives, their lifestyles, with different ideas and belief systems but when they are together they are...Family. Nothing else matters. I have a good Family.

All of that is tied together by one thing, something that I touched upon recently in a previous post; love. I am most thankful for that. It is, as I said, the most precious gift that we can get, and I am thankful to be the recipient of so much of it, from friends and Family alike.
For that, I say... Thank you.

The battle rages on.

2010-10-06T23:25:00.001-04:00

I have had a pretty busy appointment schedule in the last couple of weeks. I am beginning to think I could get a job as a greeter at Sunnybrook giving directions to the "clientele", I've become that familiar with the place. [I could use the money to cover the cost of parking.]
Bone scans, C. T. scans, bloodwork, radiation therapy (more on that later)...it seems never ending. I can see why it's called "fighting cancer", it is an exhaustive (and exhausting) series of attacks and defensive maneuvers, trying to keep me alive, and my quality of life at an acceptable standard with regards to pain control. We are stepping things up a bit right now in order to find the next (and best) course of therapy since we discovered that the hormone therapy I was on is no longer effective. My current prognosis is 2 years, plus or minus a few months. It doesn't sound good, I know, but that estimate is based on statistical data compiled from cases that are similar to mine, and the majority of those cases were men 60 years and older, so my age could (and should) be a factor that makes a difference. Our goal right now is to drive that number up by finding the best form of treatment for me, something that will "stick".

There is a case study coming up in the next few weeks that I qualify for and has had a lot of positive results at other institutions but my Oncologist is concerned that I might end up with the placebo so he wants to have an alternative "on the ready" just in case, hence all the testing. In the meantime, tomorrow I get radiation treatment that's designed to alleviate the pain. Unfortunately for me, the way it works means that the pain will actually increase for a short time, maybe a couple of days, before it gets better. (Yay! More pain! Can't wait!) As long as it eventually works the way it's supposed to then I consider it a small, if uncomfortable, price to pay.

Other than all of that, Thanksgiving is coming, and I have a feeling that it's going to be a very special one for me, given that I am so much more aware of all that I have to be thankful for. I am very much looking forward to spending the weekend up north with my Family.
I may even write a blog about it.

And now, for something a little more positive.

2010-09-25T03:14:00.000-04:00

As I continue with this adventure that we call life, I am still amazed at how some things just sort of come together at the strangest times and places.
Here I am fighting for my life, fighting a battle that will continue for my remaining days on this planet. [A battle that I hope lasts for a very long time.] It cause me a lot of pain and I know it will ultimately not end in my favor, and yet, in the midst of it I have found something that makes my life better than I had ever imagined it could be.
I have found love.
The kind of love that I never dreamed was possible. Strong, true, and unconditional. Love that I had believed (until now) could only occur in Families, through blood. I have never felt so much passion for another human being as I do right now, so much comfort, so much joy, for a very special woman who feels the same thing for me. It's a strange feeling to be going through the kind of tribulation that I am right now and still feel like I'm the luckiest man alive! I wish that everyone could find what we have found. It's the most amazing thing ever! Everyone should be so fortunate as to find this kind of happiness and I can't believe that I almost didn't let it happen! I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to all of the people who advised me to take the chance, irrespective of my fears, (you know who you are) to all of you I say; thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for helping to convince me that I should not let an opportunity like this pass me by, regardless of my current health concerns.

K and I have marveled at what we have together and discussed it at great length. We have determined that the key, or secret if you will, to our happiness is really quite simple; we love each other for the people that we are, not for the "potential" that we may see in each other for change that would allegedly make things even better between us. In the past, we have both been guilty of nurturing relationships with people that were essentially based on the hope that if we stuck around long enough we could eventually effect change in the other person, we could "fix" them, if just given enough time. It's a common mistake, many people make it, but we seem to have learned from those experiences and also are lucky enough to not really want to change each other anyway. We accept and love each other "as is". Faults (which are few) and strengths (which are many) combined. We have a mutual respect and trust for each other that is almost scary. There is no jealousy, there is no judgement, there is no selfishness. There is only love and companionship.

I believe that love is the most powerful force on this earth! It is so powerful that we often find ourselves being afraid to discuss it or uncomfortable even saying it. Think about it; when was the last time you told someone who is close to you in your life that you love them? I'm not just talking about significant others, I'm talking about your Parents, your Children, your Friends. The people that matter to you. If it's been a while then you should start doing it. Take it from me, it feels good. It brings people together in a way that nothing else can. I feel it from (and return it to) all of my friends and Family. It gives us strength and inspires us to live our lives to the fullest. It's the closest thing to magic that we have in this plane of existence.
It makes us smile, it makes us frown. It makes us laugh and it makes us cry.
Maybe it can even cure cancer.
I am grateful to have so much love in my life. I believe that without it, I might already be dead.

My dark place

2010-09-20T18:56:00.001-04:00

Pain.
It can do strange things to the mind. I can see why torture is such a popular means of extracting information from people, because you can get a lot of cooperation from a person if you hold the ability to make it stop.
Pain.
The kind of pain that courses through your bones, the very core of your being, constant and uncaring. That kind of pain makes things run through your mind that you never imagined you might think.
Hurtful things.
Angry things.
Scary things.
Things that I was going to write about but changed my mind because I don't want to be reminded of them later.
I just want it to go away.

Starting over, Redux. (and a little bitching)

2010-09-12T22:23:00.002-04:00

It's been two days since my visit to the oncologist.
The battle is indeed beginning again.
He has scheduled me for a new round of tests. Bone scan, MRI, x-rays and lots of blood work, in order to determine exactly where I stand with regards to the growth of my cancer.
Due to the nature of hormone refractory cancer he has told me to stop taking my daily hormone pill because at this stage it's likely that the pills are actually feeding my cancer instead of arresting it, which means one of the things that was previously helping to keep me alive is now killing me. [*sigh*] He wants me to continue with my quarterly shots because a sudden influx of testosterone would also be problematic, for the same reason.[**sigh**] On a somewhat lighter note; he almost had a heart attack when I told him how much Advil I've been taking, [The look on his face was priceless] says it bad for my kidneys, so he told me to stop taking that too, or at least so much of it. That's a problem because up to this point the only thing that has been keeping the pain at bay is the Advil. After I've allowed my body a little break from it I'm going to try taking the prescribed amount only, (in conjunction with the pain killers) with the hope that it will still have some effect. I'm not very optimistic about that, there is a reason why I was taking so many of them, but I have to try everything that I can. He gave me a prescription for a low dosage morphine pill (the oxy's make me drowsy. I can't take them and function during the day) which I have been experimenting with to determine how much I need to battle the pain. The past two days have not been very pleasant for me but I think I'm getting closer to the correct dosage now. Today is better than yesterday was, I figure I should have it just about right within the next day or two, I hope. The thing is, pain killers don't get rid of the pain for me, they only lessen it, just make it more bearable. The constant pain gets pretty frustrating after a very short time, but it's part of the fight so I am digging in and hoping for the strength required to deal with it. I have a very good "support group" in my friends and Family, they all help a lot.

My Doctor and I discussed a few of options that could be available to me, none of which can begin until after the test results have come in, which means that pain has now become my constant companion, again. [Welcome back, "friend", you were not missed.] One of them is a new, stronger form of hormone therapy. Another is something called Zoledronic acid. It's given by intravenous infusion into the bloodstream over 15 minutes and usually done every three or four weeks. It's used to help strengthen bones and help relieve bone pain. There is also a radiation treatment that can get rid of the pain but due to it's nature it can only be done in one area of my body, once, which makes the test results an integral part of any decision to move forward. We need to know exactly where to attack the first, and only, time. It's a one shot deal.

I guess that's it as far as an update. I'm not quite sure how I feel about all of this (other than a little overwhelmed) but I'm sure I will have all kinds of things to say about it in the future, once it's sunk in a little.

After all, I am still a wordy fuck. I'm pretty sure that part of my life isn't going to change.

Starting over.

2010-09-06T13:46:00.000-04:00

Well...here I go again. It's been some time since I felt the need to use this outlet to assist me in dealing with my "issues" because overall (with the exception of a few weak moments) life has been very good for me. However...

It seems pretty clear at this time that the hormone therapy has indeed stopped working for me. The pain is coming back. It's not as bad as it was...yet, but it's coming. I can feel it. I'm taking 12 to 16 extra strength Advil every day, plus 2 Oxy-codone tablets at night to help me sleep. ( More on that later.) It works quite well right now, as far as managing the pain, but it's not doing anything to help prevent my ultimate and untimely demise.

I have an appointment with my Oncologist on Sept 10th to discuss treatment options and I have been doing some research. Right now I'm still optimistic about the future, but that could change depending on what happens on the 10th. I'm more than a little disappointed that the hormone therapy isn't working for me, especially since it started so well and it's so non-intrusive. A pill every day and a needle every three months, who can't handle that? It takes 9-12 months of treatment before it can be determined with any kind of certainty that the therapy is truly working the way it should. I counted my chickens before they hatched. I have to stop doing that.

I'll be posting updates. Meanwhile...

It has been a spectacular summer! I have been busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest! It's been good, but, because of the hectic, busy, and often repetitive lifestyle I've been living, it has prevented me from doing some of the things that I had planned to do, seeing some of the people that I want to see, but I'm pretty sure I still have time for that. (Hmmm.)
I have been so busy that I've sacrificed quite a bit of sleep. I average about 4 hours a night, when I do sleep. Sometimes I stay awake for so long that when sleep actually does come it's more like my body shutting down than rest, and I never sleep for more than six hours, no matter how long I've been awake. I don't do it intentionally, I do try to sleep but something inside me overrides that natural instinct and I decided to ride it out and see what I might learn from it. Some people call me a vampire, others call me a fruit bat (nicknames... pshaw) I prefer to call it...living! I feel more alive when I'm awake.

It's kinda funny actually; I spent a long time at the beginning of this "ordeal" yearning for sleep. Sleep that was being taken away from me by the pain, but as soon as the pain was taken away something else started to steal my sleep from me...the desire to experience. The desire to be conscious and aware at all times, to live and experience life as it occurs around me. I don't want to miss anything. I've become the person that people call late at night when they can't sleep, because they know that I will be awake. It's an amazing feeling, being there for your friends in the dark hours when they need someone to talk to. Sometimes I offer advice, but usually I just listen, because really, at the heart of it, that's all anybody truly wants...an ear, someone they can talk to without fear of reproach. They always feel better afterwords, and usually come to their own solutions because they are saying it out loud instead of just thinking it. It gives them a different perspective. I like that I can provide that outlet for them. It makes me feel useful in some way, helpful to the people I care about.

My life continues to be an amazing and excellent adventure, filled with vibrant and loving characteristics. I may have my "down" moments but I have not lost sight of the appreciation that I have for everything!
I think that I've heard it said; living is easy, it's life that's the challenge. Although it seems that life and living are becoming a challenge for me, I'm up for it, because both are too good to just give up without a fight.

Denial.

2010-07-30T06:02:00.000-04:00

Disbelief in the existence or reality of a thing.

Interesting, isn't it? Denial is a force so powerful that we can (and usually do) find ourselves denying the fact that we are in denial. How fucked up is that?

I think that many of the people who are closest to me are in denial, and I am one of them. How do I protect myself from that? How do I stay clear headed, accepting of the reality of my situation while still trying to embrace what I have left with as much passion and vigor as I can muster, but not fall into the trap of "don't worry, everything is going to be okay."? I hate this shit! It's like I'm in limbo. I'm alive, more alive than I've felt in years, but I'm dying. Faster than everyone else in my life, but still slow enough that it's impossible to notice, even by me sometimes. What the fuck am I supposed to do?!? Be all miserable and doom and gloom; "Oh poor me, I'm so hard done by."? I'm not interested in that shit! I've been living my life to the fullest extent possible, with a new found appreciation for everything, but by doing so I have left myself unprepared for the reality that is currently kicking me in the ass because I have crept into that beautiful bubble of denial. I don't know how to deal with such a juxtaposition of realities. I want to feel both, need to feel both; but I can't! They just don't blend together. I want to live my life to it's fullest, counting the joy of every passing moment, but I don't want to lose sight of why I started doing it. I'm confused. I don't know what I'm supposed to think or how I'm supposed to feel.

It's been awhile...

2010-07-25T10:08:00.002-04:00

I had forgotten how busy things get in the summer. Life moves much faster. Everyone is making plans, wanting to squeeze the maximum amount of fun out of the two measly months of good weather that we actually get in this Country. It's like the whole Country has become a madhouse of activity. It's fascinating to observe. I never really took much notice in it before, but I do now.

It's been a good summer so far. I've had lots of good times with my kids, some good friends, started a new job working with good people, and I found true love. Love with a woman who gets me, who loves me for the person that I am and not the person that she thinks I could be if I just "tried harder". Life has been very good and I have been loving it!
So much so, that I had almost forgotten about the cancer. My treatments were working well, I felt good; I was "back", I had won!
I am a fool.

My most recent quarterly shot/P.S.A. test was on July 22. The results were...less than favorable. My previous test, in April, revealed a dramatic decrease in my P.S.A. levels, down to less than 1, which is still not perfect but it's damn close. A perfect score of zero appeared to be imminent. I was on top of the world! I was so positive that everything was going to be okay that when the back pain started 3 weeks ago I just chalked it up to working too hard and not sleeping enough, which I still believe to be true to some degree, but some of it feels all too familiar and I'm frightened by it because it coincides with an increase in my P.S.A. levels, which are now at 23. That result means that I have most likely entered into what is called the hormone-refractory stage of my type of prostate cancer. It is the inevitable end that occurs when you are on hormone therapy but often it works for years before the cancer cells become hormone resistant, I was hoping to be one of those cases -counting on it actually- but it doesn't appear to be in the cards for me. I am doing one more 3 month cycle. If my symptoms get worse and/or my P.S.A. levels don't come down then my only option is chemotherapy. I am not looking forward to that.

I have spent the last few days trying to convince myself (and a few other people) that this is just a bump in the road, a "glitch in the matrix" kinda thing, but the more I research [I read medical journals. Sometimes it hurts my tiny brain, but I prefer scientific explanation over emotional speculation.] the more convinced I become that the hormone-refractory stage has begun. So what does that mean for me? It means that a new battle is about to begin, one that involves me going through a lot of pain and discomfort. That's the part that I'm frightened of. I accepted the concept of death a long time ago, even before the cancer. I would like to avoid it for as long as possible, of course, and I'm pretty pissed off at the prospect of having my life cut short by something I can't control, but I am aware of it's inevitability. What frightens me is the pain. The fucking pain! I abhor it! I don't know if I can do it again, but I have to try because I have too much to live for. Now, more than ever.
So, let the "games" begin! I'm gonna kick this shit right in it's ass!! It's my body, I still have some control. My opponent is formidable but I am not weak and no fucking way am I going down without a fight!

In other news...I'm back to smoking cigarettes (big surprise). But hey, nobody likes a quitter, and if there is one thing that I'm not, it's that.

Addictions

2010-06-10T22:53:00.003-04:00

I quit smoking today. I'm wearing a patch that's pumping 21mg's of nicotine into my bloodstream at ALL TIMES!

It's better than smoking.

More to come...

As the world continues to turn...(sort of)

2010-06-02T23:23:00.001-04:00

It would seem that some people feel that I've not exposed myself enough on this blog, so , I'm going to attempt to rectify that situation a little bit now.
Regarding the long comment posted by "anonymous" on my last entry, some people have asked me why I don't just get rid of it, and my answer is quite simple; because I don't want to. I'm not a big fan of censorship. Besides, it is real and it's passionate, and it is meaningful to the person who wrote it, and that's what this blog is supposed to be about. Why would I want to interfere with that? That being said...

I've done plenty of things in my life that make me feel shame, but I'm not ashamed of my life. I've made plenty of mistakes (bad decisions) but I would not discount or deny them any more than I would my accomplishments. Those mistakes are just as much a part of me and my life as the good choices that I've made, to deny them would be to deny myself. Those choices are what makes my life my life. They make me, me. Good, bad, or indifferent those choices make me who I am.
I cannot try to "justify" my selfish actions if those actions have caused negative feelings to stir in other people. It's all relative. If I have two concert tickets and two friends, do I give both tickets to my friends and miss the show myself? Or do I pick one to go with me, thereby making one happy and leaving the other with hurt feelings? I do not set out to maliciously hurt people's feelings, but unfortunately, some of the decisions that I make affect some people in that way. As far as I'm concerned that is just life. We all do it. I, however, have been exceptionally selfish in many aspects of my life. Aspects where selfishness should not be a factor but I chose to make it one anyway.

I have made quite a few of what some people would call questionable decisions in my life, and I will continue to make them, I'm sure, because I am not "perfect", and at the end of the day, I am very selfish. I am not proud of this trait, but I do accept it because it is who I am, it is how I have always been. It is a flaw and I try to recognize it as often as I can but more often than not, I "miss" it and end up erring on the side of selfishness. To have this shortcoming pointed out to me, even in an angry and malicious manner, is good for me. It opens my eyes to my own bad behavior. As far as I'm concerned if I have "wronged" someone then I deserve to feel the repercussions of it. If that means that such a person will feel better about themselves by hating me, then so be it. There is nothing that I could do to give them as much satisfaction as that, and in their eyes I deserve it, so who am I to question it? Other than to try to not let it happen again, which I often fail at.
As for the burial that I "bailed" on, I made yet another in a long line of bad decisions. I succumbed to an emotional spike that was brought on by a confrontation and reacted inappropriately. I made the wrong choice. If I could take it back and do it over again I would, but the deed is done, and now I have to live with it. I am so sorry for having done that. There is no excuse, I should have "sucked it up" and attended instead of using my emotional state as an excuse to stay away. Once again, I was being selfish. I intend to approach each individual who was in attendance and apologize to them personally for my bad behavior. It's not much, but it's all I have, except to not let something like that happen again, but only time and circumstance will allow me that opportunity so I will have to wait, and remember.
I have changed in a lot of ways, but in others, I have not. I really need to work on that.

Some days...

2010-05-31T01:25:00.002-04:00

I had a very strange weekend. It was filled with such a wide range of sorrow and happiness that by the end of it I was thrust into a state of utter confusion. I experienced the joys of friendship and love, and the sadness of death and disappointment and by the end of today all I wanted to do was just shut down.
It was too much.

I have been living my "new life" with such passion and vigor, savoring every experience -good and bad- to such an extreme that the conflict becomes almost unbearable. I don't know how I'm "supposed" to be feeling at any given moment. I was touched by death twice this weekend. The loss of my Daughter's dog and the tribute to a good friend whose ashes I helped spread as part of his dying wish. I was also touched by love this weekend, meeting new friends and enjoying the company of old ones. The juxtaposition of joy and sadness all at once, and feeling it on the level that I do now, creates a turmoil within me that I am unable to reconcile. How can I be laughing and having a good time when I feel such sorrow, and how can I be crying when I feel so much love around me from the people that I'm with? I can't separate the feelings from the respective experiences, and the passion that I feel is so overwhelming that I feel as though I'm losing control of myself. I don't know "which way is up".

It causes me to behave inappropriately sometimes, which has an adverse affect on the people around me, people that I care about. I feel like I'm disappointing them by not having the strength to reign myself in, to control this clusterfuck of emotion that is swirling around inside of me. I don't want to disappoint anyone, but I also don't want to sacrifice any of the powerful emotions that course through me now, positive and negative, because they make me feel alive and vibrant!

It's a conflict that I have been dealing with for some time now, and I guess the extreme ups and downs of recent days have brought it more to the forefront for me.

Some days are just better than others.

Taking it for granted.

2010-05-25T01:51:00.002-04:00

This has been an exceptional past few weeks for me, culminated by an extraordinary weekend.

It never ceases to amaze me how much of life we take for granted, and how much we can miss those things when they are gone. I had the privilege of spending time with some old and dear friends of mine this weekend, some of whom I have not seen for some time. It was amazing how good it felt and how familiar we still are even though we'd not seen each other for so long. We essentially just picked up where we left off, as if we had only seen each other just yesterday. Good friends like that are hard to find, it's not good to lose touch with them, but it's very good to know that the friendship endures, irrespective of your communication level.

It makes me think about how we make connections with people. Why is it that some people can just "mesh" together, get each other, and others are like oil and water. They might be able to get along, but there's no cohesion. I've met a lot of people in my life, some of whom I even called friends, but most of them have faded out of my life and grown into their own lives. There are a select few, however, who endure. We are important parts of each other's lives, and we can feel it. Why are we so special to each other? What's the connection? I don't believe it can be broken down so simply as to say it's common experience, "birds of a feather" if you will. It runs deeper than that. Some of the "connections" I've made are with people who are 100% different than me. We live completely different lifestyles, and as a result hardly see each other. Yet, when we do, the connection is there. The passage of time has not weakened it.
By that same token, new connections can be made at any time in our lives, it is not reserved strictly for our youth. I've been finding these connections all of my life. I've made two of them as recently as this past year. It kinda freaks me out. It makes me wonder; how? How does it work? Why does it work? Does it really matter? Am I analyzing this too deeply? Yeah, probably.

Maybe there are some things in life that can be taken for granted, and strong friendships like that are one of them.

My Nona "episodes"

2010-05-02T23:21:00.002-04:00

My Nona was a beautiful woman. She was Italian. Devout Catholic, with all the prerequisite stereotypes associated with such a designation, and some issues of her own. She was fun to be with. We spent a lot of time together when I was a child and I got to know her pretty well. She tried to indoctrinate me into Catholicism but it never worked and she knew it, and on some level, I think she envied me for that. As brainwashed as she was, she could still see the "other side" but just couldn't break free of her chains. It was, in her opinion, (I think) too late for her to change. I think she was afraid that we would think her hypocritical for "changing sides" so late in life. Among other things...

Regardless, it's her "other issues" that I believe have the greatest effect on me currently. I believe that she was manic depressive, and lucky me caught some of that in the gene pool. I don't know if that is scientifically possible, but I'm gonna run with it, because there is nothing I like more than to blame my problems on my ancestors. It makes me feel good about myself. lol?

She used to go through these, "episodes", where she would go from extremely happy to extremely low, sometimes for extended periods of time. I have witnessed some of these transitions, as they occurred, and I remember thinking, even at that young age, that it was not...right. Based on my perspective, she had no real reason to effect this change in her demeanor, it seemed random to me. It was as though she couldn't control it, it would just happen. There were "triggers" of course, things that would set her off, but once those triggers were pulled she couldn't stop the bullet. She would sometimes go for days, even weeks, without talking to anyone, not even her Husband (except for the necessary communication required to maintain life), and as a result the whole Family suffered. It was a sad time for me when she went through these tribulations, because when she was happy she was brilliant! She would play guitar and sing, and her laugh was strong and infectious. I can still hear it, I miss it. I loved her dearly. Even through her "bad" times, because I used to have them too, and I had one today.

I have had these "episodes" all of my life, to varying degrees (just like her) but this is the first time that I have had one since my "enlightenment". It's...interesting. I am miserable, and angry about nothing, and fully aware that I have no reason to feel these emotions, and yet, I can't stop them. WTF?? Before, I simply accepted these events as "par for the course", it's just how I am; don't like it? Fuck off! But now, I am seeing life through a new set of eyes, and I don't like what I'm seeing right this minute. This is a short episode, mind you, and it's already beginning to fade, but I have "observed" it through my "new eyes" all day today and it wasn't pleasant. I don't like to lose control. Because of my new perspective, I had more ammunition at my disposal to fight it, but I still felt like it was a losing battle because I had to fight it. Because I couldn't control it instead. It was disheartening, to say the least.

However, it's fading now and I am learning from it. I think I am learning what my triggers are, so that I can do my best to avoid them, so that this doesn't happen to me as often in the future as it has in the past. It's been a long time since I felt this way. It's like that part of my personality was "put on hold" so I could deal with my "ailments", and now that I have, and I'm feeling better, it seems to be retuning...

Or maybe I just had a bad day.

My quarterly shot

2010-04-22T23:49:00.003-04:00

For those who haven't been paying attention, or perhaps just don't care, part of my cancer treatment involves getting a needle in my stomach every three months. I received my second one today. P.S.A. tests are done in conjunction with those quarterly shots, to monitor my levels and ensure that the treatments are still working.

The perfect scenario with the drugs that I'm on is that my P.S.A. level comes down to zero. A zero result means that my cancer has become inactive, it has stopped growing and essentially just lays there dormant. My levels have dropped from 164 to .059! It's on it's way to working perfectly! My Doctor would still like to see that number at zero, but he is happy with the obvious progress and confident that my next result will be zero, based on how it has worked thus far. It's an amazing relief to know that I have been given this "second chance" at life, so to speak. That I can almost certainly now measure my remaining time in years rather than months, it does however create a small predicament for me.

I am compelled now to examine the question, which was asked so poignantly by a certain penguin that I know in response to one of my earlier posts; "now what?", on a very serious level. It's a question that I never considered too much previous to the knowledge of cancer because I was pretty much just living my life the way I saw fit, through the eyes of a person who was comfortable in my false sense of immortality, always thinking there will be tomorrow to "do that". The cancer changed that perspective but because I was still so unsure as to how much time I actually have, I never really examined it much. I have been living day to day, considering what my future could hold, but never really believing that I had much of one. Now the treatment, and it's positive results, have given me the opportunity to live with that new perspective intact. I do have some tomorrows. So what do I do with them? Where do I go from here?

Am I in danger of falling back into that "comfort zone", now that I am feeling healthy again? I don't think so because I still have so much appreciation for the fact that I feel better now. I still say out loud how glorious it is to be able to pee normally every time that I do it. (I get some funny looks when I'm in a public washroom, but I still do it. It just comes out, I can't help it.) I still remember what it was like to be sick but I re-read my earlier posts the other day, the ones that I wrote while I was sick, and it brought me back to it on a level that I had not felt for a long time. It made me wonder if someday I would just "forget" and start living my life the way I used to; taking things for granted and wasting my time with vapid activities designed to do just that, waste time. Again, I don't think that's going to happen to me, but the thought did cross my mind.

I love my life, and all the people who are in it, the ones who allow me to be a part of their lives. As I said in a previous post, I have a new appreciation for everything and everyone, however, as I examine the question "now what?", I find some of the answers I'm coming up with are going to disappoint some of those people, and that hurts me.

The words of John Lydgate come to mind; “You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”. Wise words. I need to truly take them to heart, and realize their veracity, so that I may move on with my life in the direction that I want it to go (irrespective of what some other people may want) with a clear conscience and no feelings of guilt.

I know that it won't be easy, but I guess that's life, isn't it?

The ride.

2010-04-14T00:32:00.001-04:00

I started writing this post quite awhile ago. I left it unfinished, then came back and finished it, and then didn't like it, so I just left it. Well, I'm sick and tired of looking at it labeled as a draft. It was either post it or delete it, and since I don't delete anything...

I find that a bike ride can be a useful analogy for life. (Yes, there are myriad of others, but I'm familiar with this one, so humor me.) Here you are, traveling down a road with lots of twists and turns, potential dangers heightening your sense of awareness, mixed with immense joy, beauty, and the thrill of new experience. Discovering and navigating new roads that will ultimately take you to the same predetermined, and anticipated, destination. There are some bumps, sometimes rain, or other technical difficulties but we persevere, (it's all part of the adventure) ever mindful of our goal.
Yet, once that destination is reached, as rewarding as it may be, there is an overwhelming sense of melancholy; the end of a good ride. The smells, the sounds, the sights, the invigorating feelings of power, freedom and control, finished. The satisfaction of having had a wonderful experience, mixed with sorrow at the knowledge that the experience is over now. Yearning for it to continue, but knowing that it can't, we begin to make ourselves feel safe in the knowledge that there is always tomorrow and we can do it again.

But there isn't always a tomorrow, is there?

We placate ourselves with a false hope that opportunities missed can always be made up for later, or good experiences re-experienced at some time in the future, comfortable in our perceived sense of immortality, and even if we don't get around to it that's okay because some all powerful imaginary being deems it so, and will make it up to us later. By not acknowledging our mortality we are short changing ourselves in life, and if we hold fast to a belief that there is a next life, and that it will be better than this one is, are we not then anticipating death? Religion is the greatest bullshit story we have ever thrust upon ourselves as a species. It actually causes some people to look forward to dying (to ignore their natural instinct) because when they do, they think they will go to a "better" place. A brilliant stratagem for relieving the fear of death. Too bad it's all bullshit.
We waste all kinds of time here with banal, worthless actions that amount to nothing more than time wasted doing something, because; "when we're done wasting all this time, our creator is going to give us the life he wasn't willing to give us in the first place."
The grass is always greener on the other side... isn't it?

So, what is more important; the quality of the trip or the value of the destination? I guess it depends on your mode of transportation. In life, we all have one ultimate destination. Death. Since I don't see any realistic way of improving the value of such a reward, I've decided to put more focus on improving the quality of the ride. Death is a part of life. It needs to be accepted as such so that we can be properly motivated and endeavor to improve the ride because, in the end, the ride is all that we really have.

I know that none of this is new, it's just how I'm feeling right now. I once heard a man say, "It's not that life is so short; it's just that death is so long." and that quote has been ringing in my head a lot recently.

Another update, sort of.

2010-04-04T23:52:00.003-04:00

I feel like talking about me for a minute (imagine that) so I'm just gonna spew out some of what has been on my mind lately.

I love life! I really love it. I appreciate it more than I ever did before. Even the "bad stuff". I equate it to the old axiom "there is no such thing as bad press". Any time is a good time to be alive.
I have been given a gift. The gift of appreciation of life and all of it's various dynamics. It's all good. The passion that I notice in other people that I never noticed before, the passion that I am beginning to notice in myself that I had previously suppressed. I'm writing songs now. I was never able to do that before because I was always too self conscious about my own thoughts and creativity. I no longer have those restraints. In fact, I have come to the realization that if I feel the need to "get it out" than I had better do it now because soon it will be too late and my passion will pass, unfulfilled and unnoticed.
I have very few regrets, but one of them is that I allowed my musical creativity to be stifled for this long. I'm not an exceptional musician, I can "carry a tune" and it always sounds better when I'm drunk, but I truly love music. I love listening to it, I love imitating it, and now I love creating it. I used to hold back when it came to writing songs because I was worried that nobody would like them. Now I don't care. I do it anyway, just because it feels good.

Speaking of feels good; tomorrow I go for my first P.S.A. test since starting the hormone therapy. I'm not too worried about it because I feel so much better now, but, like any "test" there are standards which need to be met. If the drugs are working the way they're supposed to be than my levels will be at or near zero. If they are not, than that means the process is not working exactly as it should and my prognosis changes accordingly. Given that I am feeling so good right now I can't imagine that it would be very much one way or the other but because of my new found love for life it would really suck to lose any more time than I have already.

It's ironic actually.
In some ways the cancer is the best thing that ever happened to me, it's opened my eyes to a life that I previously took for granted, but now that I've come to cherish that life so much I feel an even greater sense of loss at the prospect of it ending anytime soon.

But, in the meantime, I'm still loving it. If I were to do otherwise, then I might as well already be dead.

The children

2010-03-31T22:00:00.004-04:00

My kids...I love them.
In chronological order they are; Mike, Ryan, Alexandra, Aidan.

They are the grounding point that I have required in order to make it through all of this. They are the ones who offer me unconditional love at all times, irrespective of what kind of mood I might be in. They are quick to forgive, and eager to please. What more could someone want from another person? And I have four of them. It is the most amazing thing that I have found in this existence.
I witnessed all of their births (except Alexandra's, but that was logistically impossible so I don't worry about that too much, but I still wish for it) and they were, without question, the closest thing to a miracle that I have ever witnessed, each and every one of them. Equally, but in their own way. I continue to witness those miracles because they are still growing and changing (I hope they never stop) from infant to toddler, child to adolescent, and into adulthood. It's an astounding thing to watch a life form grow like that, particularly when they are your sires. [For those of you who don't have kids and don't get it: Eat chain! Go have some kids and then you will.] As with all living things, the stages of growth are so gradual that they sometimes go unnoticed, at least to the "familiar" eye, and then seem so sudden when they reach their apex that it can sometimes bring shock and awe. Which leads them into the next stage and then it starts all over again.

It's a never ending adventure for me.

Children are more entertaining than T.V. (and much more creative). They are always putting a new spin on things that we've been dealing with for so long that our perspectives have been jaded by our experience. Sometimes they are the teachers and I am the student. I learn something new from one of them everyday. Sometimes they teach me by simply reminding me of things that I've forgotten. Important things, like how to laugh and play; to have some fun and not be so serious all of the time. Sometimes I have to give the "Father" role a rest, and just be "Dad".
Those are good times, it is what makes life worth living, for me at least. I cherish every moment that I spend with each of them.
Even the rough ones.

Also, because they are "being raised" by me, they make all kinds of esoteric references that thoroughly entertain me but nobody else gives a rat's rectum about. I think that's why a lot people don't want to hear stories about "other peoples kids", it bores them to tears because they don't get the joke.
I love being able to get the joke, and am glad to have such able teachers.

I worry about not living long enough to see them all into adulthood (as do they) but I worry more about the quality of the experience that they are having with me right now, because the experiences that we are having now will eventually be their memories of me, and I want them to be good ones.

My children are my legacy. I don't want them "talking shit" about me after I'm gone.

My Parents.

2010-03-22T03:38:00.007-04:00

My parents are proud of me.

I know this because they have told me so, and I believe it, because their actions have also told me so.
I believe it comes partially from the fact that I am "breaking with tradition" and doing it my way because they couldn't, because their parents would not allow it. (or should I say "condone" it, I'm not sure.) It's a testament to them because they are allowing ME to do it. (Okay, enough with all the"because's" already)

My parents have never forced me to do anything. What they did do was enforce the rules, (which were always negotiable) strictly, and fairly. They both have their own belief systems and ideas about how life should be lived, but neither one of them tried to impose it upon me, or indoctrinate me into what they "believed" I needed to "believe" in order to survive. [Although, my Father has tried to get me onto the "God" train, and I was even on it for a little while; but I don't begrudge him that because he gave me an early education in something I might otherwise not have sought out on my own until it was too late, and then felt compelled to believe in, because of the proximity that I found myself to my own demise.] (Sorry Dad.) They have led by example, living their lives the way they want to, irrespective of what the rest of the world might think. (including their parents)

But even my Father's attempts at "brainwashing" me began to abate after time, because he realized that I was forming my own ideas and opinions and he wanted me to explore them. He is still that way now, both of them are. (Although, my Mother never tried to "brainwash" me) We have grand and sometimes heated debates, but they always end with a smile and the knowledge that we still love each other because we are Family, and that's what Families do. They have allowed me to educate myself, but still always telling me what they think, so I can reap the benefits of their experience.
I have been able to pursue ALL of the things that ever interested me in life, without any fear of ever hearing the words, "you'll never be any good at that", or, "that's impossible". Because they have always tried to be good at "that" and still believe that anything is possible. It is what they are, and who they are, that has taught me that I can be anybody I want to be. They gave me a freedom that their parents never did. (although my Mum's Mum seems pretty cool, but what do I know, I wasn't there when she was young. lol) The freedom to figure it out for myself, always under their watchful and caring eyes, ready to jump in on a moments notice if it was required, but even then, only to help and guide, not to "take charge" and set things right. If I fucked up, I had to fix it, or I had to live with it. I created the problem, therefore, it was mine, and all they could do was offer advice on how they felt I could best resolve it, and they never passed judgement on whatever decision I ultimately came to, even if it went against the advice that they had given me. They simply accepted it, and we carried on with our lives.
It is brilliant parenting.
They have allowed me to grow, instead of trying to mold me.
If I ever do write a book before I die I think it should be based on their parenting skills. I believe a lot of Families could benefit by following their example.

I love you Mom and Dad. Thank you.

Impetuous rantings

2010-03-18T01:17:00.006-04:00

I've been "working" on an entry for a few days now but I just can't seem to get it "right". Perhaps I'll finish it someday and post it. (or not) In the meantime I've had an interesting ride in the past few days so I'm just gonna spew it out and editing be damned.

I've discovered new love, re-discovered old love, and realized that right now my very existence is dependent on a couple of little pills that I have to take everyday, and if I don't, I will die.

The pill thing kinda freaks me out. I of course knew that the meds were keeping me alive, but I've been feeling so good that I seem to have forgotten it, until now. I forgot to take my pills (I think it was two days ago) and I could feel the difference. It wasn't drastic by any stretch of the imagination, but it was there and I felt it, and it scared me. It reminded me of just how fleeting life truly is (especially mine) and if I don't get up off my ass and start living it, before I know it, it will be gone! I can't believe that I forgot that so soon, just because I'm feeling better now.

The whole "love" thing brought it home for me as well, but at the same time also drew me into more inner conflict; I DON"T KNOW WHAT TO DO!! (or even what I CAN do) I'm a fucking mess. Maybe I'll write another "soap opera" post, that's bound to help. {rolleyes}

I guess what I'm getting at here is, I'm beginning to come to terms with my mortality and trying to decide what I actually want to do with what's left of my life. However, at the same time, I am observing how people who don't have similar time restraints waste so much of their lives with mundane nonsense that does nothing to improve the quality of their lives; it's just what they've always done, so they continue to do it.
It drives me nuts!!
It makes me want to shake them and say, "don't you realize we are all going to be dead soon and no one will care about that shit after we're gone, so why are you doing it?" But I can't do that, unless I feel like getting arrested and put into a lovely rubber room with people who are crocheting things that aren't there. Also, people don't like to be reminded that they will die someday. We like to walk around with our false sense of immortality and pretend like it's never going to end because it makes us feel better.
What bullshit!
I see a huge paradox here. This mindset is the fruit of religion, and the promise of eternal life, and yet, that institution and it's promises are borne from our natural fear of death. How the fuck do we fix that?

I guess if I had the answer to that question I'd have my own religion, wouldn't I?

I'm staring death in the face and I have no fear. But I am still afraid of what I might miss, so I guess I'm scared.

Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance.

2010-03-09T18:00:00.005-05:00

Spring, apparently, has sprung.

Yesterday, with the sun in my eyes and the aromas of spring in my nose, I ventured to my garage with the intention of taking my noble steed for a much needed, and much anticipated, excursion into the wild blue yonder. (Okay, maybe it's neither wild or blue, but it is yonder. Work with me here.) I cherish the time that I am able to spend on my bike. It is like an oasis of peace amidst the madness. No radio, no cell phone, no conversation; no distractions. Just me, the road, and my thoughts. It can be very cathartic, and enlightening. However, I need to somehow determine a way to incorporate a pen and paper so I can take notes. I once figured out how to solve all the worlds problems while I was on a ride, it was a brilliant moment of clarity. Unfortunately, by the time I had reached my destination I had forgotten what it was. Go figure?

So out I go, after donning the appropriate apparel for such an adventure, perform a diligent post winter circle check (fluids, tires, lights etc.) and satisfied that all is in order, I straddle the beast, prepared to experience the thrill I have come to associate with that first start up of the year, and then....NOTHING! Dead battery! Arrgh!!

After quelling the urge to destroy some nearby inanimate object (luckily, there wasn't anything within reach), logic kicks in and I begin the necessary steps to remove the cursed cell from my otherwise healthy ride, with the hope of replacing it with a fresh and willing power source this evening, inspiring me. Unfortunately, I was told that the replacement I so desperately needed would require charging out of the box, therefore I couldn't have it until tomorrow! Shouldering my disappointment, I trudged back into my house (back to the distractions) in order apply a nice emotional salve to my feelings of despair over a good ride lost, and look forward to the next day when I could begin the adventure all over again with a more positive result.

That day was today.

It was a good ride.

As the world turns...

2010-02-22T00:02:00.006-05:00

If you're a fan of soap operas then you might be interested in this post.
If you're not, then don't even bother reading it. It's just some of the struggles that I am currently going through right now in regards to my social life.

I was recently contacted by a friend from the past, a female friend, who has expressed a long held romantic interest in me, and the feeling is mutual, but I am hesitant to become involved with her even though I really want to, and I know it would be good for me. I'm just not so sure how good it would be for her.

Given my current circumstances, I'm not even sure that I ever want to (or should) become seriously involved with a woman again. I am lonely, and I do like her, but I mean really, when I think about it, it doesn't seem right to nurture the love of a woman, knowing that I'm only here for "a good time, not a long time". I may feel good right now, better than I have in 2 or 3 years, but I am still not the man I was 3 years ago and likely never will be again. I still have cancer and I am still going to die, probably within the next 10 years. Yes, I am fighting strong and well, and I remain steadfast in my belief that there is a possibility that I can fight this through the natural course of my life and live to a decent age before finally succumbing to the cancer (or something else. Maybe someone will kill me because they are sick of listening to me; >"Die already, you wordy bastard!!"< ), but I am also a realist. I cannot ignore the statistics, or my Doctors' experience with other cancer patients. (Or the image that I now see in the mirror, I've noticed some changes, and they're not good ones.) I'd like to think that somehow I'm special, (in one way I am, terminal prostate cancer at 40, woohoo! lucky me!) that it can be different for me, but the reality is, I'm just another human, just another number, and in the end there is only so much that I can do for myself, and since I don't believe in a God any more, I'm not expecting a miracle any time soon. So, would it be fair of me to put someone through that kind of inevitable emotional pain just so that I can spend the few remaining years of my life with a companion and not alone? Wouldn't that be selfish? Isn't that why I gave my former girlfriend the option of leaving, because I didn't want to do that to her? Why would I want to do it to somebody else? These are just some of the questions that I am currently struggling with. I don't want to die alone and I can't imagine that there are very many women who would even want to put themselves into this position, yet this fine lady claims that she is approaching the situation with her eyes open, fully aware of what to expect and how it will most likely end up if we make it a long term attachment. Even still, does that make it alright?
I know that, for me, if I was involved in a serious romantic relationship with someone who developed a terminal illness I would never leave them, (at least, not for that, perhaps something else?) but if I met a woman who told me that she currently has cancer, or if someone I liked from the past, but was never linked to romantically, developed it, that I would be very hesitant to get close to her in a romantic or loving way. [ It's a self preservation thing, we all have our fair share of having to bury our loved ones over the course of our lives, why walk into a situation where we know that it's imminent in the near future?] Why should I expect someone else to make a sacrifice like that when I'm almost positive that I would not do the same for them? It makes me feel like I'd be taking advantage of her in some way.

I'm not sure what to do at this point, but I know what I'm not going to do; make any impetuous decisions.

I have lots of pondering ahead of me.
(If you're not a fan of soap operas and you read this far? I warned you.)

Right now...

2010-02-18T20:38:00.002-05:00

...I got nothing.
Everything is going far too well.
Try again later.
Have a great day.
I did.

My cancer research

2010-02-03T23:56:00.005-05:00

I have been trying to refine my diagnosis a little bit, to narrow it down to a specific kind of cancer so that I can then determine the best course of action, as far as fighting it, that is specific to me, my biological make up and my current physical condition. It is challenging, to say the least.

I have learned that cancer is heterogeneous, not just in it's interaction with the individual but also in general. My cancer, if observed under a microscope next to another person's, would exhibit certain characteristics specific to me, which means I own it, and as far as I am concerned, if I own it; I can control it. The diagnosis is done through pattern recognition (microscopic observation) not molecular testing. That testing is generally reserved for researchers who are trying to understand cancer as an entity of itself in an attempt to learn how to precisely diagnose it by cause rather than by anatomic location or physical symptoms. I've been reading a lot and asking a lot of questions and I think that I've learned that cancer is the interaction of a cell that is no longer under growth control with it's environment, like the weeds on your lawn, it's similar to the grass, but not the same, and chokes out the healthy growth around it. I listened to a lecture given by a cancer Doctor recently and in it he said; "change the soil and you affect the growth". That statement, along with others, has stuck with me.

Holy shit, I've been reading too much, I am a wordy fuck.

Anyway, I think the point I'm trying to make here is that I have not given up. I am actively seeking positive action which will create positive results. The whole "imminent death" thing has been weighing on my mind quite a bit recently and I've been fighting it in many different ways, one of which is by researching the actionable possibilities for my continued existence on this planet. I am still having a difficult time kicking cigarettes but it will come, and I'm not convinced that in the short term it really matters, although that is part of "changing the soil", as long as I quit them soon. I have made other changes though, with my diet, taking supplements, sleep (still blissful, I may never take it for granted again) and exercise. I believe that I am getting closer to finding the "secret formula" that will work for me, to extend my life for as long as possible.

I am optimistic about, and looking forward to, the future; particularly this spring and summer. I plan on touching base with friends and Family whom I've been neglecting, or at least I feel I have anyway, and I look forward to rectifying that situation.

A new beginning

2010-01-30T16:52:00.003-05:00

Wow! I can sleep again! It's glorious! I haven't been allowed to sleep like this for months! I've been in my pajamas all weekend, pain free without the use of meds for the first time in a long time, and catching up on my dreams. It's good to dream again. I've actually been off of the pain meds for several days and the feeling of recovery has been growing for even longer than that, but it is only just now starting to "sink in". I've been fearful of disappointment.

The hormone therapy seems to be working just as it should, it has given me my life back. I don't know how long that is going to be, but realistically is there any way of knowing how long any of us have? Yes, I have been given an accelerated time frame in that regard but right now that only serves to strengthen my resolve and inspire me to get back to the business of living, and now that I have been given the ability to do that, through this treatment, I can't wait to get started! I may be living on borrowed time but at least I am living, and I plan on paying it forward instead of back.

I am going to continue to spread the word of my story to any one who will listen with the hope that it will help prevent this cancer from occurring in as many men as possible. Beyond that, I am also looking forward to becoming involved with a charitable organization that not only raises awareness but also helps people like me cover the cost of the hormone treatment. The needles required every three months cost $1400.00 each and the daily pills cost $425.00 for three months worth, over $7000.00 annually. Without a good drug plan that can be a huge hit for a lot of people and if it can do for someone else what it's doing for me than I want to help to make it available to as many people as possible. If I can't find an organization that I can "piggyback" onto, one that does what I see needs doing, then I will start my own, something that I'm familiar with, a charitable annual motorcycle ride.

In the meantime, I'm going back to work (modified duties and schedule, I'm not going to rush it) and begin to rebuild my social life by finding someone to share it with me (modified duties and schedule, I'm not going to rush it).

I will continue to post here, although I'm not sure what I will say. However, I have been told, on occasion, that I can be quite verbose so I'm sure I'll think of something.

Why? vs How?

2010-01-26T22:14:00.006-05:00

When someone is diagnosed with a fatal or potentially fatal disease, especially if that person is considered to be "too young for that sort of thing",(which is bullshit, age is irrelevant, I'm proof of that, and many others like me) whether it be something common like cancer or rare like Descending Mediastinitis (my cousin is a survivor of this awful affliction), inevitably the question is asked by victim, friends and Family alike; why? Why, indeed.

Why, is an unfair and frustrating question because it can never be answered with any degree of certainty. The ecclesiastical implications of the question require a certain amount of faith that some people (myself included) just can't muster and in the end there is still no true answer to the question, just a feeling of acceptance towards a situation that we think we have no control over but if we truly had the courage to face the situation on a level that would require us to grasp the reality of it all, we would find that we have more control than we might think. Which is why I think, when faced with something as important as our own mortality, "how" is the better question to pursue.

Why does a 41 year old man get prostate cancer? I don't know. How does it happen, and how could he have prevented it from reaching a stage where it becomes incurable? For that there are some answers, and some is better than none at all.

At first I believed that I had some genetic predisposition for this cancer, which may still be true as evidenced by the age that it chose to present itself to me, but I have done quite a bit of research into this subject and I've discovered some pretty startling things. The one that surprised me the most is the fact that when it comes to prostate cancer the question is not IF it will develop, but WHEN. That is how the human body works, if you're a man and you live long enough that something else doesn't kill you first, you will develop this cancer. For some men it might take a hundred years, for others only forty, but it WILL happen. (How come they don't say THAT in the fucking commercials?) The only variable that separates us is when it will happen, and that is why it is so important to get checked for it on a regular basis!

I know it sounds a little like I'm beating a dead horse here but right now I'm a feeling pissed off! Thus far the hormone therapy is working very well for me, I feel better now than I have for months, almost no pain, I have been sleeping better, I'm even going back to work next week. I feel almost normal. (whatever that is) But for how long? Five, maybe ten years? Maybe not even that long. Because of what? Because I never got checked. As a result of the length of time that my cancer was allowed to grow and the extent of that growth, my Doctors can't even tell me how long I might have! I'm being forced to squeeze an awful lot of life, and living, into a very short period of time and it fucking sucks!

I'm an average working class guy. I love life, it can be a lot of fun. Being working class though can sometimes be an impediment when it comes to the amount of "life" time that I am able to enjoy. Don't get me wrong, I like my job, but even on the really good days I can always think of one or two hundred things that I would rather be doing, so when my free time comes I don't like to think about things like going to see a Doctor, even if I'm not feeling well I prefer to just ride it out while doing something more enjoyable. I would much rather be out cruising the highways on two wheels than be in some sterile room with a man poking me in places of my body that I'm not even comfortable with touching myself. (Maybe if it's a woman...) That attitude can work for a long time, for a lot of people, but at what cost? Sure, we're all gonna die someday but why not try to stick around for as long as possible? We could miss out on some pretty good shit.

Don't let your lifestyle or your fear of a lubricated finger up the wazoo (or your faith in an invisible man to protect from such a fate) prevent you from acting on the advice of others or the feeling in your gut.

Focus on the how and do something about it. Then you won't have to ask why.

Procedures part II

2010-01-25T23:33:00.004-05:00

I believe that there is a general consensus among heterosexual men that anal intrusion of any kind is something to be avoided at all costs. There are exceptions to this rule of course, as there are to all things, and to those exceptional men I say this; lucky for you. You shouldn't have as much of a problem in dealing with some of the required tests and preparations involved in order to satisfy the best interest of your continued health. I, however, count myself as one of those men who considers my rectum (damn near killed him) to be a one way street used exclusively as an exit, which makes my adventure somewhat problematic since I have recently learned that, much to my dismay, this is not the case.

That being said, the prostate biopsy, as intrusive as it is, is the most important test to have because it gives the Doctors physical and conclusive evidence as to whether or not cancer exists in your prostate. Without it, its just a guessing game, and you don't want to be guessing. The sooner you can confirm cancer, the sooner you can begin treatment, the longer you will live; it's that simple.

There are some things that you need to do in order to prepare for the blessed event. First, if you happen to be on any medication that has a blood thinner in it you have to stop taking it tens days before the procedure. This is to help prevent excessive bleeding from the prostate after the samples have been taken. After all, it's not like you can put a "band-aid" on it. If, like me, that medication is preventing some kind of pain that you have been going through, well, sorry about your luck kid, you're going to feel some hurt. Then there's antibiotics, three of the LARGEST pills that I have ever seen in my life (holy horse pills batman). These are to prevent infection. One taken the day before, one the morning of and one the following day. You can't eat for twelve hours before and, of course, there is the enema which needs to be done two hours before the surgery. Did I mention the enema?

I've never had an enema, didn't know the first thing about it, and they ask you to do it yourself in the morning. So I buy this thing a couple of days in advance and I'm looking at the instructions for self administration and the recommended positions for best effect and I'm thinking, "how the hell am I gonna do this?" Remember, I was forced off of my meds so at this point I'm half a cripple, simply walking is a chore, and these people want me to lay on my back with my legs in the air, stick a tube up my ass and squeeze a bottle of some oily liquid through it until it's almost gone? I found the prospect...daunting, to say the least. I have to give props to my Brother at this point, who, upon hearing about this, offered to administer it for me. I thanked him kindly but had to respectfully decline his offer. There was no way I was going to make him do that, much, I think, to his relief. The sentiment, however, was much appreciated.

What follows is what many people might consider as being TMI (too much information) but in hindsight I think it was funny so I'm going to share it.

So the day arrives. My appointment was for 8:00am which means I have to try to pull this stunt off at 6:00 in the morning. I hobble into my bathroom, place a towel on the floor which I lay down on and proceed to follow the directions on the box. The part you insert and the bottle are one unit, much like a bottle of glue except the nozzle on top is longer, like a tube. I had to reach around the side of my elevated leg with my right hand so I could squeeze the bottle. It started out well enough, I managed to get the tube inserted but when I tried to squeeze the bottle I found that because of the awkward position I was in I couldn't get enough power behind it to make anything come out, so I reached down between my legs with my other hand in order to assist. That worked and I was able to nearly empty the bottle, as per the instructions, but then a nightmare occurred, I cramped up! I couldn't bring my legs down! So there I was, laying naked on my bathroom floor, legs akimbo, with an empty enema bottle stuck up my ass, unable to move! Quite a predicament. My Father, who was to drive me to my appointment, was waiting for me downstairs. I considered calling him for help but decided that I didn't want to curse him with having to live with the image of me in this rather compromising position for the rest of his life, so, with great effort and a decent amount of pain, I managed to roll sideways and bring myself to all fours thereby allowing me to stretch out the cramp and bringing this rather unpleasant, but humorous in hindsight, endeavor to an end.

Now off to the hospital. Once again I'm lead into the room, this time by two nurses (yeehaw, a threesome, but once again, wrong story). They lay me on my left side, one is explaining the procedure to me and getting me to sign indemnity forms, the other is preparing me for the Doctor by sticking the scope into the area of my body that was formerly used as an exit exclusively but now seems to be getting an awful lot of two way traffic (there's never a cop around when you need one) and getting it lined up for the biopsy. I never actually saw the scope but it felt like it was bigger than the enema tube but smaller than a finger. She was digging around, it brought the sensation of someone playing with a pencil in my ass. The Doctor arrives and begins by giving me freezing in my prostate, much like a dentist's needle. The sensation from the needle traveled through my prostate and right up to the tip of my "wee man", it was a little shocking. I'm not sure how well it worked because I felt everything. The biopsy itself is done by poking with a needle that pops out of the scope and takes small pieces of tissue when it retracts. It sounded and felt like being shocked with an electric BBQ starter, not very painful but certainly not pleasant. He took 14 samples. The whole thing lasted about 15 or 20 minutes.

They told me to anticipate blood in my urine for the next couple of days, and blood in my semen for a couple of weeks. It didn't last that long for either, but it was there.

I've already written about the results. I hope that this story helps to give anyone who may have to go through this some peace of mind. It wasn't as horrible as you may imagine it to be in your head. I'm a total wimp when it comes to stuff like this and I got through it, so if I did it, anybody can.

Procedures

2010-01-25T00:55:00.002-05:00

It has been suggested to me by the person who inspired me to start this blog, my Muse, if you will, that it could be beneficial to others if I described in greater detail the "ins and outs" (that's a pun, son) of a prostate biopsy as I experienced it, and the cystoscopy as well. Initially I balked at the idea, thinking that if I did that, it might scare men away from wanting to have those tests done. Upon further reflection (and cajoling from said Muse) I realized, no one wants to go through that shit,(<--another pun?) so if I shared my story it might have the opposite effect and make people a little less afraid of it, sort of a, "well, if he can do it, so can I" kinda thing. So...

The purpose of a cystoscopy is to look at your bladder from the inside using a small camera, to see if there are any infections or other abnormalities in the tissue. The only problem is, and I think you see this coming, the only way to get the camera into your bladder is to insert it into your penis through the urethra, your pee-hole! Sounds like a torture technique the Nazis might have used in WWII doesn't it? It would be effective too because if he had asked me before hand to sign a confession instead of doing that procedure, I would have supplied the pen. As it turns out though, it wasn't that bad.

The nurse lead me into the examining room where she asked me lay down on my back, then, as she hovered over me, she started to slowly remove her...whoops, wrong story, sorry... then she left. The Doctor came in and first applied an antiseptic, it looked like iodine, to ensure that there were no unwanted germs going in,(at that juncture, germs were the least of my concerns) then an anesthetic to numb and lubricate the urethra. The numbing effect was short lived for me. It turns out that my urethra is contracted which means the camera wouldn't fit, so he had to run a series of small metal tubes up there first in order to stretch it out and make room. That was...uncomfortable. Once the camera was in there, in order for it to work, he filled my bladder with a solution that's mostly water. It makes you feel like your going to piss all over him but it doesn't happen. Then he starts looking around. I could see my abdomen moving like there was a baby kicking around in there, it was kinda weird, but it didn't hurt. I can't tell you what it looked like to have all that stuff shoved up my willy, metal tubes, camera, water hose, because I stared at the ceiling for most of the time. When I tried to look I got as far as seeing my belly moving around and that was enough, I went right back to the ceiling again. He told me what he was looking at, which I described in an earlier post, pulled it out and it was done. The whole thing took less than ten minutes.

As far as after effects go, there was some blood in my urine for about a day and a half but that was it. See? Nothing to it.

I actually found the prostate biopsy to be more invasive. I'll save that for my next post.

Midnight madness

2010-01-24T00:25:00.000-05:00

Something is definitely happening to my body, I believe as a direct result of the hormone therapy. I'm not quite sure how to explain it succinctly, but since it woke me up tonight and this is my outlet now, I'm going to give it a shot. And if this bores you, hey, you don't have to read it.

It appears that the hormone therapy is causing my body, or the symptoms associated with the cancer, to go backwards, kind of like rewinding a movie. Over the months leading up to my diagnosis I went through different progressive "stages", in regards to the pain, bladder function, appetite and just overall feeling of strength and wellness. In other words, as the cancer grew, it affected my body in different ways. Kind of like when you get the flu or a bad cold, it starts with a sneeze and a tickle in the back of your throat, then your sinuses get clogged and maybe coughing starts, your throat starts burning, sometimes a fever comes and then there you are, sick. I think it's safe to say at this point that December was my rock bottom, or my "there you are sick" stage. It was, as I described in an earlier post, my Hell month. As bad as it was, none of the stages leading up to that point were very much fun, and one of the worst ones, which I last experienced previous to Hell month, the one that included consistent nighttime sciatic "attacks", the one that lead me to consider suicide, was the one that I believe I have regressed into now.

For several weeks one of my stages went something like this: wake up with a dull pain in my right leg, sort of an "echo" from the night before, go through my day feeling fairly good, come home, lay down to get some sleep, still feeling the "echo", sometimes (like tonight) even fall asleep for 20-30 minutes and then, PAIN! Excruciating, indescribable, unstoppable, fucking sciatic pain in my right leg! Impossible to sleep through! It felt like someone was sticking a knife into my ass, cutting all the way down my leg, the wound healing itself behind the blade as the cut is made, and then turning around and coming back up, and then back down, over and over and OVER!! There was no relief, no position that I could lay in that was comfortable. I would walk around my house, often in tears, doing "laps", thinking maybe I could stretch it out or possibly make myself so tired that exhaustion would over-ride the pain and I could finally get some sleep. It never worked. This would go on for hours, usually until around 5:00am. Then, miraculously, it would begin to subside, allowing me to finally fall asleep, just in time for my alarm to go off at 6:00am so I could wake up, go to work, and start the cycle all over again.

I cannot think of an adjective powerful enough to describe how this made me feel, I don't think one exists in the English language. Frustration squared, to the tenth power!?! Why always at night? On consecutive nights? Why was I not allowed to sleep? I wanted to die, just so I could get some sleep. But ultimately, I knew that death was not an option, so I persevered.

I have never experienced exhaustion like I did in those days. Looking back in my diary I see where there were blocks of time when I would go for as long as 36 hours without any sleep at all which would end with a night of 5 or 6 hours of broken sleep (because remember, I was still pissing every hour or two, which, actually, was a "stage" of it's own that I will write about another time) only to be followed by another 24 hours of no sleep, and so on. In retrospect, I don't know how I got through it. I think the only thing that saved me was Sat. and Sun. mornings because I didn't have to get up for work which allowed me to get some sleep during that window in the morning after the pain subsided. Also, I think it could be a testament to the strength of the human spirit and what we are capable of doing when it's necessary.

Anyway, I believe that I'm back to that stage right now, but there is a difference this time. The pain is not as pronounced as it was before, it's still strong enough to keep me awake, but I'm not pacing around my house crying for sleep. The fact that I don't have to get up at six and go to work also helps, it lets me get my sleep in the morning after the pain goes away, but even beyond that, it's just...different. It's like a healing pain, if that makes any sense, I just feel like it's going to get better instead of worse this time around. There's a light at the end of the tunnel and I'm walking towards it instead of looking at it over my shoulder.

So here I am, typing instead of writing in a book, but now I'm doing it with a positive, optimistic outlook because I see this pain as a regression rather than a progression, and that's a good thing.

So, what now?

2010-01-20T23:30:00.000-05:00

It's a funny thing, staring your mortality in the face.

Actually, I am currently stuck between a state of shock and a state of denial. Which means I haven't had that staring contest yet. I have cried, once or twice alone, but more often it's because the person I'm talking to starts first, and then I lose control with them.

I keep waiting for...something, I'm not sure what. Fear? Despair? Hopelessness? I don't know. I haven't felt any of those things to any great degree, yet. In fact, it's almost the exact opposite, as if I've already come to terms with it, but I'm sure that I haven't. I mean, shouldn't I be making plans? Getting out there and doing all the stuff that I've always wanted to do but keep putting off? I think so, but I just don't feel inspired in that way, and that concerns me a little bit. Is that denial, or is it despair in disguise? Have I given up? Am I just sitting around waiting to die? I don't feel that way either.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am currently overwhelmed with a broken heart. I sacrificed a relationship with a woman for whom I cared very deeply on the alter of "you deserve more than to have to suffer through this with me, just to watch me die" altruism, and the sense of loss that I'm going through because of that is very strong right now. I believe that I am feeling more over that loss than I am over the fact that my life has been cut short on me. I think a large part of that feeling is the disappointment in the fact that she actually accepted my offer, without protest. As much as I do want to spare her the hardship of all of this, I guess I was hoping that she would want to stick by me regardless, at least in some capacity. I suppose it's not fair of me to think bad of her for her decision, after all, I did present her with the choice and should not have done so if I wasn't prepared for her to go in that direction, but still, I can't help but feel more than a little hurt by it. I thought I meant more to her than that, but I guess I was wrong. I don't know, maybe I'm just being selfish.

Perhaps once I get over that loss I'll be more open to dealing with my own situation on a deeper level than I am right now. Until then all I can do is try to mend my broken heart and not be too distracted by it, focus more on the people who are sticking with me and less on the ones who choose not to.

Discovery part II

2010-01-20T20:21:00.000-05:00

This is where I start to learn just how bad things actually are.

The cystoscopy reveals that my urethra is contracted, which effects my urine flow. He measures it by having me urinate into a flowmeter which shows that my flow is around 25% of what it should be. The examination itself shows that I have the bladder of a 70 year old man. The muscles lining the wall of my bladder are very thick and over worked as a result of overuse and the strain involved in the action itself. At this stage I had been going almost every hour, 24/7, (sleep? HA!) for a couple of months. He gave me some meds that were supposed to help with the flow (their effect was minimal) and reminded me of how I would need to prep for the biopsy on December 30 and that he would see me on January 14 with the results.

Then the results of my P.S.A. test came in on December 4.

An average reading for a healthy male is between 1 and 3.5 nanograms per milliliter. If that number is anything over 6 it is considered to be concerning and warrant further testing. My result was 164! Needless to say, he was concerned. He immediately started pulling strings to have my biopsy rescheduled to the earliest possible date, which turned out to be December 16. This is where things started going south for me even faster.

I haven't talked about the pain too much up to this point, I have entry after entry in my diary describing it, I will try to sum it up here. It gave me suicidal thoughts on more than one occasion, mostly the sciatic pain. It was virtually uncontrollable, but, I was taking naproxen (an anti-inflammatory) which allowed me to have some nights where the pain was almost bearable but without it there would be no respite at all. In order to prevent excessive bleeding of my prostate from the biopsy I had to stop taking the naproxen for ten days prior to it. Naproxen is a blood thinner. Until this point I had been functioning as normally as I could as far as working and tending to my everyday responsibilities and social life. It wasn't easy, I never slept for more than two consecutive hours because of either the pain or the bathroom breaks, and that medication helped enough that I could be mobile, I walked with a limp, but I could walk. Going off the naproxen changed that. I was confined to my bed for a little over a week. I couldn't stand up straight and could not use my right leg at all. I had to use a chair like a walker whenever I had to go to the bathroom, which I was still doing just about every hour. The month of December was pretty much a living hell for me. My life essentially came to a stop. I have been off work since December 14/09.

On December 16 the biopsy is done and I get the results on December 24. Merry Christmas. Cancer is now confirmed. At this point he classifies me as having stage T2a prostate cancer, with a Gleason grade of 8, which is very high for stage T2, especially with a P.S.A count of 164. So, another round of tests, ct scan, bone scan, x-ray and more blood, to determine if the cancer is still confined to my prostate or if it has spread. Again, I credit him for his expediency in regards to getting these tests completed. Under normal circumstances it would have taken several weeks to get them done. He pulled some strings and had them all scheduled and completed over a four day period the following week.

On January 5 he informs me of the results and tells me that what I have is the most aggressive and highest risk prostate cancer that there is, my only option is hormone therapy.

This pretty much brings me to where I started with my second post on this blog. I've covered the story from the medical stand point as comprehensively as I could. I will probably start writing about how it has changed my life and where I plan, or hope, to go from here. Not that I think anyone really cares, just for my own therapeutic purposes.

Discovery

2010-01-20T20:20:00.000-05:00

So, where or when, did it all begin for me?
To be honest, I'm not 100% positive. I seem to recall being 37 or 38 when I first noticed that I was urinating more frequently, but I didn't think much of it at the time. The change was so gradual that I hardly noticed it at all. Around 39/40 is when the pain started. Lower back pain at first, nothing I hadn't experienced before, just more frequent, and then sciatic pain. Again, infrequent and gradual in it's intensity. I just chalked it up to turning 40 and tried to adjust my lifestyle accordingly, hoping to "cure myself" of it.

It became problematic enough by March of 09 that I finally broke down and went to see my Doctor for a physical. I was long overdue anyway, and I had promised myself that I was going to get the "finger swoop up the shoot" in my 40th year, which I was 7 months into at that point, so, off I went.

My Doctor found that my prostate was enlarged, but, because of my age and good physical appearance (some say I'm a handsome devil lol) he concluded that I was probably suffering from prostatitis, an infection of the prostate, and prescribed an antibiotic, hoping it would clear it up. He did this twice more over the next few months with different antibiotics, none of which had any effect, so the pain and discomfort worsened. Also during this time he had me x-rayed and ct-scanned, discovering some problems with my back. He recommended physiotherapy, which I began on November 17/09. The physio did, and continues to, help with what I believe is an underlying back problem. It was also at this time that he referred me to a urologist.

While this was going on, the urinating became more frequent, and painful, and the back pain/sciatic "attacks" almost constant. Back pain during the day, sciatic pain at night. Sleep became almost impossible. My urologist appointment was set for December 10, I called him one night at 3:00am, practically in tears and left a message begging him to please try and get me in earlier. His office returned my call saying the best they could do was December 1st. Better than nothing I guess. To his credit, when that day finally came, things started moving very quickly.

On that day, after a very thorough and uncomfortable D.R.E., the urologist found what he described as a "nodule" on the left side of my prostate. Immediately he ordered a P.S.A. test, booked me for a cystoscopy for the following week and scheduled me for a prostate biopsy on December 30. Due to a cancellation he was able to do the cystoscopy the following day.

So, to begin with, I guess

2010-01-20T20:19:00.000-05:00

Greetings and salutations.
I had originally intended for this blog to be a place that I could direct people to when they wanted get updates on my situation and/or some back story as to how it all went down. As I begin this though, I see it as being a little more than that. I see it as being sort of like an open letter to my friends and family. Since conversations involving subject matter such as this can be awkward and uncomfortable for some people, I feel this medium is a pretty good way of sharing this information with anyone who is interested in knowing about it.
That being said, if you know me, know this: I am neither ashamed nor am I afraid to discuss my "condition" at any time or in any place. If you see me and you are curious, or maybe you have some advice, or maybe even a joke, please, do not hesitate to bring it up! Do not be "politically correct" around me, I can't stand that shit. Don't treat me like like I'm dying of cancer or something.(HaHa)

This post is intended to give you sort of a general overview of the way things stand right now, the results of all the tests and how we (my doctors and I) are treating it. I'll be getting into more of the minutia of events as they occurred in subsequent posts, and then from there, back to "present day". Feel free to be incredibly bored by it, it's just me blowing off steam.

I am forty one, and I have been diagnosed with prostate cancer. I felt symptoms for possibly 2 years previous to my diagnosis and did nothing. As a result of that "waiting time" the cancer was able to metastasize, or spread, to other parts of my body. My lower spine, my femurs (both legs), my right knee, my lymph nodes, my left shoulder and my left eye, making it impossible to cure.

Hence the warning in my "first things first" post.

It's too late for a cure but there is a treatment, which, if successful, will add years to my life. We don't know how many years (I don't think the federal government needs to worry about me collecting a pension from them lol) but years are better than months.

The treatment is called Hormone Therapy. It consists of a pill taken everyday and a needle into my stomach every three months. The purpose of this medication is to block testosterone production in my body, testosterone being the "fuel" for the cancer. Without fuel, the cancer goes into a dormant state and recedes slightly, it is still there but it can't grow any further. I will be getting a P.S.A. test every three months to monitor how effective the medication is. Ideally, that number should go down to zero and stay there. There are no guarantees that this will work, and even if it does, no way of knowing for how long. In the end, the cancer always wins.

There are side effects, of which I have had the good fortune, thus far, to not have experienced, as of yet, but I've only been on the pills for 2 weeks and just had my first shot yesterday (Jan. 18/10) so, unless I'm super lucky, I guess I can expect them to come at any time.
Some of them are more noticeable over the long term, weak bones and muscles, fatigue, weight fluctuations. Others are more immediate, hot flashes, loss of libido, erectile dysfunction. The E.D. concerns me a little bit but I'm told that Viagara and other related meds can help to solve that. In the here and now it's no big deal, as I am alone, but it's nice to know that if I need it in the future, I have options.

I have noticed a definite improvement in my physical condition as a result of the hormone therapy, a positive sign that it's actually doing what it's supposed to do. I am hoping and planning to be back to work and into my routine, albeit somewhat modified, within the next few weeks.

I have a diary that I've been keeping since November 17/09 which chronicles the path that I have been traveling in some detail, the pain that I've been going through both physical and emotional, the tests and procedures used to determine my condition, etc. My next few posts will tell my story based on those entries and whatever memories revisiting those days conjures up.

First things first.

2010-01-20T20:17:00.000-05:00

If you are a man, over 35yrs old reading this and you suspect in even the smallest way that something is not quite right with you, whether it's more frequent urination, constant pain in your lower back, or just a general feeling of swelling in your backside, do yourself and your family a favor and see your Doctor, NOW!

In fact, never mind all of that. If the only criteria in the above statement that resembles you is your age, 35+, you should get checked. If there is anyone in your family who has been diagnosed with any form of cancer at all, you need to be checked. I cannot stress this enough. It can only be stopped if it's caught early and it can only be caught early if you get checked now.

Do not stop with just a D.R.E. (digital rectal examination). Request, or demand if you have to, a P.S.A. (prostate specific antigen) test as well. If you have a family history of prostate cancer the P.S.A. test is free, if not, it costs $35.00. It could be the best money you ever spent.

If I had done this small thing at that age I believe that I would not be where I am right now.
Don't let this happen to you.