Barrie, Ont. February, 2009
At the time of writing this, I am 75 years of age.
On a fateful day in October, 2008, I went to our G.P. with my wife for my the annual health check up. I believe that she should be in on all my health problems in case she has to take over things at home if anything goes wrong. (and I felt a lot better having her there, supporting me).
During the exam my doctor performed a digital exam (finger) of my prostate. Right away he told me about a lesion he felt on my prostate, and I would have to take further action. Little did I know but this was the start of my journey through the medical world of prostate cancer.
I was given a PSA test to find out if there really was a cancer in my prostate. The answer came back, a whopping 41! On the scale from good to ok to bad, this was a 41, (bad).
My G.P. arranged to do two things: (a) refer me to an urologist in Barrie, (good), and stop on my way to a doctor in another city. (bad).
The doctor, (who wasn't from Barrie), was a young man who looked fresh out of doctor's school, all spit and polish. The first thing he did was to give me a digital exam of the prostate (finger), and commenced to tell me that indeed the cancer, if it was out of the prostate I had a problem. At this my blood pressure started to go up and fear came into my bowels. Was this the beginning of the end? He further mused to us that if it was out I would likely need treatment in Toronto at Princess Margaret or Sunnybrook hospitals for some radiation of the lymph nodes and it could be for a considerable time that I would have to go to Toronto for regular daily treatments.
Needless to say I though this was literally the end of my life, and my spirit was down to the lowest I have ever been in my life.
Back in Barrie I had a biopsy of the prostate done, which showed a high number indicating prostate cancer.
I finally got to the Doctor in Barrie who was going to treat me. What a refreshing change! He assured my wife and I that I would probably die from something other than prostate cancer. He proceeded to put me on a hormone treatment (one pill each day), some future injections. On the way out he put his hand on my arm and said, "don't worry, you will be ok".
At this point I began to believe that I would live a full life after all. The stress that I was under was lifted, and I actually began to smile again.
Results from an MRI showed that the cancer was not present in the spine, which was very good news.
I have yet to have a C.T., which is coming up next.
DONALD FELSTEAD (see my next post)
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
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