Naughty Bits

In the interest of scientific completeness and because of the prurient interest of a couple of old Navy buddies I am reopening this blog to discuss the one side effect of my treatment I have not previously mentioned. That is of course the ability to “satisfy my marital responsibilities.”

Possible problem number one is in the design of the plumbing. A bundle of nerves that is attached to the surface of the prostate gland controls the ability to achieve an erection. If these nerves are damaged during the radiation treatment, it’s “Sorry Charley,” because nerves have little capacity for regeneration when damaged.

Problem number two is the swelling of the prostate gland due to the treatment. The prostate swells because the docs stuck 34 needles into the little bugger and nuked the tumor six times. The swelling pinches the urethra which is the tube running from the bladder to the penis—hence the difficulty and pain in peeing.

(Keep your pants on--I’ll get to the good stuff in a moment.)

I’ve had plenty of problem number two especially following the second treatment. Because of the discomfort, I was very reluctant to try out the full range of options, shall we say. In short, since it hurt to pee I was afraid it would hurt even more to make love.

So we waited nearly six weeks, took a Viagra (which one congressman has classified as a “recreational” drug by the way) and gave it a go.

With spectacular results I might say.

So, the plumbing still works--but I don’t want to get too cocky. (Now that was good!) The literature does say that some men regain potency for a time and then gradually diminish in capacity eventually reaching full and permanent impotence.

My strategy at this point is to follow the sound advice of English poet Robert Herrick.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

I’ll just keep at it til it goes away.

It’s a Wrap

I’m gonna bring this chapter of the blog to a close with a few comments about the medical care I’ve received. One hears countless stories about cold, impersonal treatment but I’ve seen none of that. I’ve been treated with dignity and respect and with great patience when I asked tons of questions. I’ve been treated by my personal doctor, the radiologist, the urologist, the GammaWest clinic in Salt Lake, the hospital in which the clinic is located and our local hospital here in Cedar City. At every step I felt like I was a partner in my own treatment. A constant participant in making informed decisions.

The most impressive has been the clinic. They specialize in this treatment and it showed in their cool professionalism. I suppose that would have been enough for most people but these folks just seemed to go out of their way in caring about their patients. They were kind and loving and comforting way above what one might reasonably expect. Doctors, nurses, PA’s, technicians—the lot. One or two would have been impressive but 100% is just downright special.

Thank you all so much. Your cup will runneth over.

And to Doctor Hayes and his entire staff, send anyone you like to this blog or have them contact me by email if they are undecided or fearful. I’ll sing your praises.

Bless you.

The Long Haul

Things seem to change slowly day by day but always in a more positive direction. I get tired easily but it doesn’t affect my abilities much except that I have to take occasional naps. My plumbing functions aren’t up to snuff but I see gradual improvement there as well.

Accordingly, because I keep repeating (and boring) myself, I’m gonna stop giving reports of my physical condition unless something dramatic happens.

I’m in good spirits all the way around thanks to tons of support from my sweet Betty Sue, all my kids and a host of friends at church and school. I also have too much to do to mope around and feel sorry for myself.

Long range, I have four checkups scheduled (Nov, Feb, May and Aug) and will then get a checkmark in the big box. The one that says, “Former Cancer Patient.”

Back in the Game

It’s four weeks since my second treatment and I would judge I’m at about 85% of normal. I still struggle a bit peeing and I get tired pretty easy. I don’t walk these days, I amble. Luckily I don’t have a long walk to get to any of my classes. Overall I feel that recovery from treatment two is taking about a week longer which in the big picture is certainly no big deal. The real big deal is that I am recovering.

I guess it will be about a year before I’ll know if the docs can put a big check mark in the box labeled “cured.” During that time I will be tested four times, twice each at the hospital here and at the clinic in Salt Lake--which will give my sweet Betty Sue and I two more chances to go to that wonderful Japanese Restaurant. I think we’ll schedule the trips to SLC to include taking in a play at one of the many fine theatres in our bustling metropolis to the north.

Getting back to school has actually been good. Gets my mind off things, gives me something to do that I’ve always enjoyed. I took a reduced schedule to help me kind of ease back into the full swing of things. For the first semester in a long while I am not involved in designing a production which feels kinda strange. But it sure does feel good to be playing.

On Peeing

Abnormal urination has been one of the most persistent symptoms I’ve experienced after both treatment cycles. It has also been more pronounced this time around. For about ten days I had blood in my urine and that’s pretty unsettling. It’s not surprising though considering that I had thirty four holes punched into my prostate gland which feeds directly into the urethra. As a consequence, it is necessary to wear an adult diaper.

These are pretty interesting gadgets. First of all the package claims they are simply “Underwear.” The word diaper is nowhere to be found. Sound marketing there. The package also claims they (brand name “Depend”) are :

Ideal for your active lifestyle. True enough. They definitely let you get out and about.

Easy to use—just pull on and off. Yup. No pins, no Velcro straps, no staples.

Latex free. Important because otherwise they would be unbearably hot

Soft, quiet, breathable. True on all counts. Quiet is important because you sure don’t want to crinkle or rustle.

What the package doesn’t say is that they will make you feel like you are permanently carrying a load in your trousers because they are bulky right between the legs. Not to worry however because they don’t show and nobody will notice them. It sure feels funny going out in public however. They also smell sort of hospitaly. Not bad or anything but just reminiscent of the clinic and the treatments.

I am now blood-spot free and I no longer dribble pee down my leg or into the Depend. And I can go all night without getting up two or three times. What does remain however is difficulty in getting a stream going when I have to go. I know that sounds illogical but now I have to strain and sort of force it in order to get anything out. I did discover a trick (?) though. If I strain just a bit and then relax and then strain a little again and then relax it seems to sort of build up to a good pee. All the while during this plumbing exercise, it hurts and you think nothing is going to happen but then it comes.

A quick related story. Couple of days ago the good PA Jeremy called (I think earlier I may have referred to him as a nurse—my apologies) and said I hadn’t posted anything to the blog for nearly a week and he was checking up on me.

Isn’t that amazing!

When we discussed my peeing trials, he called in a prescription to my pharmacist for Uroxytral a drug that aids urine flow. Cool.

School starts again tomorrow but my first class isn’t til Tuesday. I got really, really tired going to church today so we’ll see how classes work out.

Stay tuned.

Christmas Tree Balls

I am home two and a half weeks at this point and haven’t had a pain killer (Loritab) for three days now. Boy it scares me to use those things and I have to be hurting pretty good to take them. I don’t even know if this particular drug is addictive but I sure don’t want to find out the hard way. Rush Limbaugh and all that. It was not the perineal wound but my innards that hurt. Up inside. The same place that hurt when they readjusted the needles. I don’t know if it was that event or the cumulative effect of the two treatments but whichever, there was a dull, deep and persistent ache whenever I shifted positions and especially when I walked. The jouncing would generate waves of ache that would last a half hour or more.

I remember an actor on TV commenting that the way to play the role of a very old man was to simply pretend that your testicles were Christmas tree ornaments. That exactly describes the way I’ve been walking and moving--like I might shatter something important at any moment. I wonder if Loritab will cure old age? Hmmm—must look into that.

Now, Let Me See …

The six-hour wait between treatments on day two was spent very pleasantly watching old movies. I was offered a television set of my own but declined and just enjoyed my neighbor’s set. John Wayne in the old Louis L’Amour story, Hondo plus The Man From Snowy River. Didn’t actually watch much of either movie. Just listened and imagined which was easy because I had seen both movies before. Would occasionally turn my head and take a peek but, for the most part, ran the films in my head. It was intensely pleasant just laying there knowing that the whole treatment experience would be finished in a few hours.

There were three patients stacked up in a staging area and I was scheduled in last place. The first gent returned from his treatment and the second guy was taken away. Then I listened through the pull curtain while they removed the first fellow’s apparatus. He was just a few feet away and I will tell you it was an intensely sobering experience. The nurse explained to him that they were administering a pain killer through his IV which would help but would not stop all the pain. (I will add here that through every single step of the entire treatment regimen on both trips the hospital and clinic personnel did a wonderful job of explaining what they were doing. It helped tremendously.)

They next told him they were using a drug called Versed that would block out his memory of the next few minutes. I had never heard of such a thing. It seemed almost like science fiction to me. Then I listened while they removed the apparatus itself. It was obviously very painful for this poor gent. He groaned and swore and groaned again. The whole thing didn’t seem to take very long but he was certainly having an intensely unpleasant experience. I must admit it shook my confidence and pretty much wiped out the euphoria I had been floating through.

During my final treatment cycle I thought of very little except the knowledge that I would soon be undergoing what that fellow had been through. When I returned to the staging area, and they put the pain killer into the IV, I told the nurse they could put me as far out as they wished but she just smiled and assured me that everything was going to be fine. Just as they had done with the other guy they explained I would receive a drug called Versed that would inhibit my memory of the removal.

Now here’s the amazing thing. They were exactly right. I remember nothing whatever of the next few minutes. It’s not like going to sleep. It’s simply as if the next few minutes did not exist at all. I know I was fully awake and I probably groaned just like the other guy. I may have even turned the air blue with a little Navy talk. But I have no recollection.

Science truly is wonderful.

Tweedle Dumb

Well, I guess I got a little cocky. Figured I had this whole thing pretty much licked but it didn’t turn out that way. The second go round was physically tougher than the first and I hurt more now than I did before. The additive effect of the two treatments has been significant.

The first day of treatment was pretty much of a breeze and I started thinking I had it made. In the morning they installed the “apparatus” then the first treatment took place that afternoon. I spent the entire evening and night “searching for O’Roark” (Navy-talk for barfing) but even that was pretty much expected because the same thing happened previously.

One funny note here. The only thing that helped even a little with the tummy was popcicles. During the night I ate a double grape one that came up so fast it still tasted good on the way back. OK, OK. Well the nurses thot it was funny.

Reality hit just before my second treatment the next morning. To ensure that the apparatus has remained precisely where it was installed, they X-Ray the affair. Bad news—mine had shifted (just an eighth of an inch)—probably during my retching fits of the night previous. The good nurse Jeremy had to reset the position of the needles. With a touch of Demerol to “take the edge off” he gently twisted and pressed on the whole affair and I thought he had pierced right through to my eyeballs. He explained they couldn’t take me far enough out to eliminate the pain altogether without an anesthesiologist and an Operating Room. So just grit and bear it. The only redeeming aspect was that the nurse obviously knew his business and the discomfort lasted only a moment. It was, however, a very “rich” moment.

I regained my appetite after the first treatment and had some scrambled eggs and a muffin. Ahhh, the delights of hospital food. To tell the truth I wasn’t much interested in food at all. Wasn’t especially hungry and certainly wasn’t uncomfortable—stomach growling and all that. The body seems to have the capacity to shut that function down or at least diminish it when needed.

I’ll wrap up the hospital saga in the next installment. There is an interesting tale to tell there.

The Other Side

It’s great to be home. It’s been four days and I’m finally able to sit up for 15-20 minutes so will send up a brief entry tonight.

Part of the immediate recovery treatment at home is to soak your bottom several times a day in the bath and then apply ice packs between the legs to reduce the swelling. I can tell you that the very, very first thing I did when I got home was to take a long, long hot bath. As I stood there under the steaming water a feeling of the most intense physical and mental relief hit me with the force of a storm. I shook so hard I could barely stand. I moaned long and hard and tears welled up in my eyes (good thing the water was running or I might have been accused of crying). We’re so tough. Us guys.

I have so much to be grateful for. Giving back is gonna be a big job.

You’re all in my thoughts tonight.