One Step At A Time

Gotta admit when I wrote Tuesday's post I had a little whiskey in me. And a pretty good fucking sandwich too.

Dr. Susan Buckley caught me off guard. Way off guard. Obviously I found out she is a Doc, not the urologist's assistant. I am a sexist pig for making that assumption. And as I said I would take her over the urologist or the radiologist any day. She was 100% informed, direct and honest with me. She did not sugarcoat anything.

And she answered every one of my questions. I had a lot. I had a list. She answered every single one. Respectfully.

I overreacted on Tuesday. It was a pretty big shift in perspective. But given the luxury of time to think about it, it ain't gonna be so bad.

Hormone therapy is a manageable thing. My body will react to it in unpredictable ways - every man responds differently - and I will react to that. Up to me, baby.

Radiation is not so bad either. Carol and I each spoke to someone who has dealt with it and they both said it pretty much leaves you tired with no real other side effects of note.

Just a walk in the park, Kazansky.

Not really, but it ain't the end of the world. Something tells me it might be more important to kill the cancer than to worry about the side effects. They tell me it's better to be alive than dead.

The medical community amuses me. I connect with the ones who are drug addicts in disguise.

Dr. B told me she cannot predict how my body will react to hormone therapy. That every man reacts differently, from what they experience to the severity of what they experience. Then she said:

"So it's important that you keep me posted about what's going on, especially if something is making you uncomfortable or affecting how you live your life. I have a pill for everything - there is nothing I cannot make better."

Now that is a doctor I can respect.

When I got to this serious stage and the urologist was reviewing my treatment options, at the end he said: "You can also chooose to do nothing. With medications and technology I can probably keep you alive for 15 years."

Again, you gotta love it. And I seriously considered it for a while.

I have to consider the downside. I'd be stupid not to. I could get to the end of this and be told "Holy shit, we did not beat this thing. You need chemo, or surgery, or a stick of dynamite inserted up your ass." It is possible this is the beginning of the end. No one really knows. Talk about motivation to change, baby.

I am not leaning on that at all. Right now I feel positive. I will deal with this and come out the other end smiling. I have watched family members and friends go through shit that is much more difficult than this and seen them succeed. Mostly.

So ignore my previous post. I was freaked out and whiskey influenced.

One would think between this pandemic and prostate cancer, I will have a completely different outlook on life.

Could happen. Should happen.

But I'm not making any promises.

One step at a time, baby.