I am Daniel Rahenkamp and I was diagnosed with prostate cancer on 10/31/05. Halloween. Welcome to my blog about my travels down the trail of treatment for my prostate cancer. The story starts in August, 2005 and works it’s way back to present time . Use the calendar on the left sidebar to navigate through the blog. Dates that have entries will be in bold. If this is your first time here you might want to start at the end of the blog and read it backwards. My wife Paula is also adding postings about her feelings on how my cancer is effecting her. I hope it helps you or someone you know. If you have comments please leave them because they do help us.

PLEASE add yourself to our Frappr map as we would LOVE to know where our readers are from.

Well they did the works on me a CT scan, where they took a bunch of images, which I never saw. Then Paula and I spoke to Dr. Sorace where we brought up the increase in PSA and we were told not to worry, as my PSA is not fully stable yet. PSA also bounces or goes up several times after seeding and is fully normal.

Then I was subjected again to the blue STURRIPS where I had another color Doppler ultrasound. There is a large flat panel color screen right over your head and you can see what the doctor sees. Last time I had this procedure there were several red clusters all over my prostate that indicated the blood flow that was feeding the cancer. This time NADA!!! I can tell you that it was a powerful image for me. NADA cancer!

I will have to have blood work done every four months and then return in one year. This is how I will be keeping track of time when it comes to my life with cancer. Each Spring I will think of a year of life and not death.

During my hiatus I have fallen back into the routine of my life and I have found that the thought of cancer is not as ever-present as it once was. But from time to time I have been jolted back into the reality of that which is called Cancer. Since my last post I have had three friends find out they have cancer. Two with lung cancer and one with salivary gland cancer. It was jolting to me each and every time I heard about another friend having to meet this sobering reality but not as jolting to me as it use to be. I use to be scared to death of the mention of the word but now I am not and I have tried to help my friends with the knowledge of my experience.

I find it startling how many of my friends are dealing with cancer, or perhaps I am just noticing more. I want to think that because of my age it is just that time in one’s life when illnesses start to capture many of us. In any case I have heard more and more the stories of other peoples cancer instead of my own. Not that I have anything much to say as my health has been good and getting better. I am due for my one year since seeding exam on the 25th ( Woo Hoo!! ) at the Dattoli Center and I have been getting blood work done to get ready for that exam. I have high confidence that my results from my exam will be good but time will tell. I can tell that Paula is becoming anxious as my appointment approaches and I don’t think that she has the same trust that I do. I do know she has a lot of fear regarding my health and for that I can only tell her there is no tomorrow, only today, and today I am fine.

I have always meant for this blog to be my story of my Prostate Cancer and only that. I never wanted it to evolve into anything else like a clearinghouse for prostate cancer information, just my story that’s it. And because many people are finding this site and spend a considerable amount of time here I feel that this blog is helping people through the fog of having prostate cancer. This is enough for me. So as time goes by and my exams are all good you may find my postings becoming farther and farther apart as I get busy living …..

I had up to that moment in time always been terrified of the results of cancer and definitely didn’t want to see myself in any of the stages of cancer that I had witnessed in my life. The frailness, the wasting away of the body, the inevitability of death, it petrified me. And here I found myself hearing those words about me, it was like a bad dream that I couldn’t wake up from.

But here it is a year later; I’m awake from my dream and cancer free. I am lucky in so many ways. I’m lucky that I had the habit of getting a physical each year that is how my cancer was first noticed. I was lucky that Paula, my wife, is a researcher and got me very informed about prostate cancer. I was lucky that she stumbled upon information about the Dattoli Center. I was again lucky in the fact that the Dattoli Center with the best possible doctors I could ever hope for were a mere 70 miles away. Yes I am lucky and I have the treat of the rest of my life.

You my readers are most probably in the same boat I was in just one short year ago. You are scared and seeking information about prostate cancer. You are doing the first right thing and that is getting informed. You have some time with prostate cancer, as it is a slow growing cancer. So get informed and try to get information that is unbiased. You will quite often hear the information that the doctor wants you to hear. Quite often the word surgery if you are going to an urologist. So first get a second opinion and try to get all of the facts that you can from as many sources as you can and then make the decision of the form of treatment that is best for you and your situation.

Lastly please don’t hold the fact that you have prostate cancer so close to your vest that people don’t know about your situation. Cancer needs to have light shed on it and exposed so other people are less fearful of it and better educated about it. I myself did not fully understand about prostate cancer and prostate health and I consider myself very well informed. There is no excuse for this so please be the one who informs your friends and family about this cancer so they do not receive the trick that we have received.

Halloween will be one year since he got the diagnosis. I have given up trying to figure out what is going on in his mind.

Dan is more remote than he used to be. He doesn’t laugh like he used to laugh. It is so frustrating to not to be able to do anything for him.

He says he just wants to be left alone. Hopefully, he will find a way out of this depression.

We all deal with our emotions differently. I talk and write and cry. What helps me may not be of any help to another. All I can do right now is stick by Dan.

That is all I can do.

Paula

The purpose of this correspondence is to provide a copy of your urine cytology with a prescription to have this test repeated due to the presence of "atypical", possible pre-cancerous cells. These cells are not considered normal, however they are NOT cancerous at this testing. It is MANDATORY that you have this test repeated in six months time as a follow up to this finding and to rule out the potential for bladder cancer!

Needless to say this got my attention. When a letter from a doctor’s office comes in the mail and it is annotated with quotations, "atypical" and things capitalized, NOT and MANDATORY, not to mention an exclamation point at the end of a sentence that ends with the words bladder cancer. Yes it got my attention, real fast.

I called the doctor the very next day to get his alarming letter cleared up as the copy of the test from Bostwick labs stated that the overall test returned negative results but showed:

Rare single and clusters of mildly to moderately atypical urothelial cells: this may represent a reactive process, but neoplasm should be considered. Clinical correlation is indicated.

Upon talking to a nurse she indicated to me that this occurs with many of their patients and is cause by the great deal of radiation that we receive. My urologist also scoped me just before I got my seeds and it showed no signs of bladder cancer. So I will be going back in six months for my next test which we hope will be clear at that time. But in the mean time I am left thinking more about my cancer than I recently have been…. Was I engaged in wishful thinking?

Writing often on this blog only made me think even more about the cancer. I was already thinking about it too much.

Sometimes I felt sort of guilty about not sharing in the blog. Dan even asked me a couple of times why I had stopped posting. The bottom line is that I also have a life, and Dan’s illness was already so big in it that I decided to avoid the parts of it that I could. This blog is one of those parts.

Several years ago Dan and I went white water rafting. Our raft capsized in the middle of a part of the river that is called HELL’S HOLE. I was caught UNDERNEATH the raft. Dan and our two companions were able to swim to shore. I first worked to get out from underneath the raft, and then I struggled to swim to shore, but I kept getting sucked down under the water because of the whirlpool.

After I was saved by one of leaders of the excursion, Dan told me that I, indeed, almost drowned. He told me how frightened he had felt. I replied that it was strange, but I did not have time to be afraid because I was fighting the whole time.

Sometimes living around cancer is like that maybe. I mean the one with the illness is in the whirlpool busy fighting, and the others are helplessly watching from the shore.

I am watching from the shore, and sometimes I need to get away because I just can’t stand it.

Later,

Paula

But I chose to be informed by tending to my basic health by regularly seeing my doctor. I chose to read as much as I could to educate myself about this disease. I chose to fire my first urologist because of his behavior. And I chose to go to a doctor for treatment that was 75 miles away, because he was the BEST in his field. I also chose to listen to everyting my doctors said to do and then DID it.

Well I am in good health and my PSA was again at trace levels. I still have some minor urinary issues but these too will get better with time.

Just listen to your doctors and do what they tell you and you too may feel as happy as I do today. It is your choice.

While it will never quite leave my thoughts and me it as been good for me to indulge in the present. I am not spending my time researching PCa on the Internet. I am not thinking about my treatment. I am just doing what I do.

While I am sure many of my readers are looking for information about PCa and how to deal with it, I am sure that they will delight it the fact that there is an end to the fear, the Doctor’s, the procedures, and the all consuming thoughts of this cancer.

I also received some good news since my last post; I got my blood work back. This blood work included my first PSA test since this whole ordeal started and it was at .001. Barely trace amounts!! While it is still pretty soon since my last radiation treatment and since I stopped my hormone treatments, it was GREAT to see it in black and white. Perhaps that is reason enough to take a rest spa from posting. I was giddy.

But now I am back in the world of reality and I am reminded of this because I just set an appointment with my GP Dr. Iezzi to have my annual physical. This was how this whole blog came to life last year, as this is how I found out about my cancer.

If you take one thing away from reading this blog, please let it be this… GO GET YOUR PHYSICAL AND GET YOUR PSA CHECKED.

On the news front in regards to me…. I received some good news this past week. As of next week I am off the androgen deprivation therapy. This is great news as I will hopefully be permanently off of these drugs. This means I should start shedding the weight I have been unable to loose and unfortunately I will start loosing the full head of hair that I have developed…. Oh well… But on the brighter side I can say goodby to those hot flashes. Whoope!!!

I sit here writing this from my sister-in-law’s house ( Thanks Mel!! ) where I am staying during this phase of my treatment. I sit here without Paula, who stayed at our house in Michigan, and without any of our critters. While I have been apart from Paula for a good length of time, 6 weeks or so, and I do miss her, but I have never been without the company of animals for as long as I can remember. I now know how integral they are to my life. There is defiantly an empty space there. Animals have always been better friends to me that people have, they are totally accepting of you no matter what is going on. Perhaps it is the food we give them, but I choose to think not.

I can tell Paula is all stressed out about my trip. She is sooooo fatalistic. She will at this point assume that I am getting bad news next week and she will storm around all angry about it. She assumes that it will be so. I have also noticed that she is asking how everything works at the Northport house. How to open up the house and close it down for the winter. Things I normally do. Honestly Honey I plan on being around and I have TOATAL trust in my doctors and there are no incicators that things are going south. But still she worries. This is causing some tension between us and the break will do us good.

Since my last post I have traveled 1500 miles, visited family, carted myself Paula and all the critters along with a bunch of stuff in a trailer to Northport Mi, opened up our house, unpacked all of the stuff I hauled, had problems with Internet access, received the new appliances into our house ( Woo hoo we have a kitchen now!!) , got interviewed for an article in the San Francisco Chronicle, read 3/4 of a very funny book, was contacted today by a representative for the Gillette Corp and now I do this….

Did you catch the ringers? The Chronicle and the Gillette thing? I mention these because I can’t tell you how many times since I received my diagnosis that I will see a pink ribbon here. Another there. Did I see a pink bat at a recent baseball game? I think it all started with those darn yogurt containers, all for the sake of brest cancer. If you look at the numbers of men who contract prostate cancer vs. the number of women that contract breast cancer you will find that there are more cases of prostate cancer. I don’t see any blue ribbons or pins or donations to our cause on yogurt containers. My point is that there are not many of us out there talking about prostate cancer and staging events at baseball games where the players use blue bats for gosh sake. Men as a group need to talk about this topic more and more with other men, their wives and members of their family. The more people that are aware the better because knowledge does save in the case of prostate cancer.

To that end I will now talk about the ringers… This past week a reporter for the San Francisco Chronicle who was writing about people who have cancer and blog contacted me. I will let you know when it is published. What a wonderful thing the Internet is that I can sit here in my jammies and have my voice about prostate cancer herd so far away. This is my activism, to blog my story. You too can be an activist for prostate cancer too, you can blog or you can just talk. But please start talking to everyone you know about prostate cancer and encourage every man you know to get tested. That is how we can at least manage this terrible beast. But please just do something.

The second item encouraged me. A rep of a “cause” marketing agency that represents Gillette who is backing the Prostate Cancer Foundation to create more prostate cancer awareness contacted me. Gillette wants to promote prostate cancer awareness and has started this campaign with the launch of Gillette Men’s Cancer Connection. Check it out. And did you see that they are now going to have a baseball game with blue bats.

’bout time.

The damnest thing about this cancer diagnosis is that it is so anxiety provoking. I just cannot make it go away.

I am giving my very best effort to focus on the NOW. I work very hard at not dwelling on this because a huge part of my awareness knows that Dan may not die of this at all. It could be something else, or I may not live to see him die. I might go first.

As I have said before, I do believe that life is a crapshoot, but to be totally candid, life was easier when we had problems that had a chance of being solved.

This may not kill Dan, but the cancer is there. And we both know it.

If anyone has figured out a way to get it out of your mind, let me know.
It still enters my mind several times each day. It is no longer a cold chill like it was at first when this was new; now it is just like a damned big thorn in my side that I cannot seem to remove.

The initial panic is gone, of course. The terrible sadness does not pierce my heart in the same way that it did for a long while, but the knowledge of this disease has changed my perception about life. And not in a good way.

I know a lot of people like to run around saying that cancer is the best thing that ever happened to them. Good if that is the case for them. My husband’s cancer is not the best thing that ever happened to me, and I rather doubt that Dan would say it is the best thing that ever happened to him.

I get sick and tired of putting postive spins on stuff. Sometimes life is just damned hard, and it pisses me off.

I started to find out about my cancer at the beginning of the school year, in August. I got my annual checkup as I always do and BAM my life changed. This year, upon reflection, has gone by for me so very quickly. Even with the interminable waiting that one has to do when one gets a cancer diagnosis, time has flown by. I have had many many ups and downs this year and those too are leveling out and are becoming merely a memory.

Next month I go back to the Datolli Center for what will hopefully be my last series of IMRT treatments. At this time I also hope to find out how well the treatments are working. This little bit of information has not been available to me yet. I hope it will not involve another rising tide of emotion, I am really feeling OK at low tide.

Now after this cancer diagnosis I HAVE TOTALLY gotten that. You know how you know for sure that you have really integrated an important life lesson because you feel it deep down in your bones.

In the past week I have come to know how to always stay happy. It is quite simple. I must always surround myself with the stuff that I love. I do not mean other people. They come and go.

For me right now the list has two things on it. The other day I was so down in the dumps about the events of the past months that I could barely moved. I was weighed down with a very heavy depression. While wrapping some jewelry I sold on Ebay, I felt my heart quicken as I looked at the beautiful aqua tissue paper. The next day the same thing happened with a piece of yellow tissue. Yes, I love color. It DOES make me happy, and it is something I can always have.

Twice this past week as I was returning from errands, I opened the door to see my cat Patti waiting for me. My heart swelled up like a big ole balloon. Yes, I love cats, and I can always have them.

I do not think it is a good idea to depend on other people for happiness. They come and go.

I am making a conscious effort to add to my list of easy-to-have loves and to make sure to include them in my daily experience.

I remember my great-uncle Jim’s wide smile and twinkling eyes as he showed me one of his prize dahlia blossoms.

I can still hear my grandfather John say, "Looky there" as he plucked a baby carrot from his vegetable garden, wiped the dirt off on his pant’s leg and popped it in his mouth.

I can still see the dreamy look in my grandmother Pearl’s eyes as she recited one of her favorite nineteenth century poems.

I can still see the pride and contentment in my grandmother Pauline’s face as she instructed me on the proper way to organize a desk drawer.

What are the little things that make your heart sing? Surround yourself with them and increase your own happiness quotient.

One day he experienced tremendous discomfort while eating and within a few days the diagnosis was in.

I ran into him while shopping yesterday. I did not recognize him by appearance only by his voice. He has lost thirty-five pounds. He had the biggest smile on his face, and I gave him a big bear hug.

By God if he can smile then I sure as hell can.

Life continues to bring me to my knees.

Wow oh wow oh wow is all I can say. Don’t put off the stuff that matters to you.

"Dog Shooting At The Moon" Jean Miro

I just read Dan’s last post in which he says that he thinks that things are worse for me because I am afraid of losing him.

Things are not worse for me. Bad, worse, worst- that cannot be measured or compared.

What the diagnosis reminded me of again is that loss is a part of life.
I don’t like that. No one does.

However, I certainly do not know that Dan will precede me in death.
I do not know that Dan will die of this prostate cancer.

Life is a crap shoot. Since Dan’s diagnosis millions of people all over the world have died. Many of these people had no diagnosis of anything.

In our personal circle two friends of ours have died since Dan’s diagnosis. Neither one of them had any diagnosis of any sort. They just died.

The more I live the more I know how little I know.

We have to hold onto today and not worry about what is around the corner. I am now trying to do that to every extent that I can. Right now I feel very good and that is all I can deal with. I do still have to plan for the short term future though, we are now getting ready to do our annual trip to Michigan. So it is impossible to stay TOTALLY in the moment but we can strive to do the best that we can. As far as my cancer is concerned I have an appointment in June and that is all I care to think about the topic. Whatever will be will be.

Dan’s attitude is what will be will be, and he is correct. Ultimately, we have no control. What will be will be.

And so things are simmering on the back burner. Things can simmer a long time as long as they are tended somewhat.

I like times like now when life is normal.

Can I bargain like that? Does it work that way? Unfortunately, I do not think so. We get what we get in life, and as Dana Reeves said soon after being diagnosed with cancer, "You play the hand you are dealt."

Fairness does not play into the equation. I always would remind my students that to expect life to be fair will only lead to diappointment and frustration.

The greater good comes from piling up the beautiful moments in our lives, and rolling those up like a huge ball of yarn that we can take out and peek at when our chips are low.

Material things? I would burn, smash and axe every material possession I own if it meant that I could have my loved ones back here with me again.

Rack up some more good moments today, guys.

Yes I did get excellent care at the hospital, the very best, but did I really get 39K worth? I believe that this amount is strictly for the hospital and not the doctors that worked on me. Hmmmm let’s see I did use a little room for about two hours pre-op and prepped by a pre-op nurse. And another nurse did roll me into the operating room on a gurney. Then there was the operating room with lots of folks there too. Then I got another ride on another gurney by the same nurse as the first ride. I had to wait in the post-op room for about an hour or so. And then I was off to my room where I spent most of my time at the hospital.

What in the world cost so much? The seeds? The building? Was it the electric bill? The fun rides on the gurneys? Maybe it was the not so free parking?

But make no mistake about it. It is always in the back of the mind. There have been very few times since September when I don’t feel its presence. Oh, I am sure that some people would say that I need to work more on mind control, and I am.,but until you or your spouse have cancer then you just don’t know what it’s like.

We do our jobs. We are trying to eating healthier and exercise more. We both know one thing for sure now. We know that living for the future is damned stupid, and anyone who is enduring their life right now waiting for that magical day in the future when they can relax or retire or whatever they are gritting their teeth through at present, is living a life of MAJOR DENIAL. Futures are not guaranteed.
Intellectually I have always known this, but now I experience that knowledge on the level of my body. i feel it in my bones. That’s a good thing actually. I have gotten to the point where I just don’t do much of what I REALLY do not want to do. What’s the point?

And yes, of course, we all have the mundane things that we must do in order to carry on a life, but now I work like hell to find a way to enjoy that stuff.
I sing or listen to music, but mainly I just feel grateful that Dan and I are still alive and able to see and to hear and to breathe and to walk.

I always know how damned fortunate we are. A friend of mine was diagnosed last week with stomach cancer. It just came on suddenly. He looked healthy as can be. He has no health insurance. I read today that 40% of Americans have no health insurance.

Health care has gotten so high that a new trend is catching hold. More and more Americans are travelling to India for operations and medical procedures because the cost of such is about thirty per cent of what it is here.

I don’t have positive feelings about the future of our world. We’re on a downward spiral so I say we should play Nero and fiddle as Rome burns.
I am taking less and less seriously these days.

I know one thing. I’m not going to get all stressed about world affairs and the all too obvious deterioration of our culture.
What I can do is help my friends and neighbors. Sitting around griping about world affairs is a cop-out. We’d all be better put to use by helping the folks, animals and environment in our own communities. Some of the biggest loud mouths I know who complain about world politics are not doing one damned thing here at home for their fellow man.

So far my care has probably cost the insurance company in the neighborhood of 60 thousand dollars of which I had to pay 10 thousand. Yes that is a lot of money but we have it and it is well worth the cost to have the very best doctor working on me. I have told others that if you got arrested you would surely find 10 thousand to get out of jail, that is a no-brainer.

I bring up this subject because this week Paula found out that one of her friends went out to eat and got sick and had to be taken to the hospital. He has no insurance. He found out that he has a hole in his stomach and that he has stomach cancer and no insurance. The hospital gave him some Vikaden and told him he would have to find an oncologist and sent him on his way. After all he didn’t have insurance. How many oncologists are going to come up to the plate and take this guy on as a patient? You know he doesn’t have insurance. If they do take him on how good of care will he get? Will he get the state of the art radiation from the state of the art machines? Will he get the very best medicine or will they just give him meds for his pain until he dies?

What is wrong with our country that we can give basic health care for all of our citizens? Canada does it. England does it. In fact many many countries do provide inexpensive health care for their citizens. Whose fault is it? Is it the doctor’s? Mine is very skilled and should be compensated well. Is it the companies that make the medical equipment? Do they deserve a million dollars for a CAT scan machine or IMRT radiation machine? I don’t know. How about the pharmaceutical companies? One of the drugs that I have to have for my androgen deprivation therapy cost $2,000 a shot. One shot 2 grand!!

I fear for my wife’s friend.

I just read his recent post, and it hurts my heart so. This is the first time in our married life where we are faced with a situation that we can’t figure out. We can only spend money on drugs and treatments. We can spend time reading and keeping up with any current developments.

However, the fact remains- there is no cure for any type of cancer. It is true that many forms of cancer including prostate cancer have become manageable to the point that the patient  often dies from other causes unrelated to the cancer after having lived a good while.

We are trying very hard to remain up and focused on good times ahead, but life offers no guarantees. I am being helped so much by a women’s group that I found online. We each post daily or so, and we reply to one another. It helps. I do not have one woman friend who really understands what I am experiencing. How could they?

Men, on the whole, tend to hold things in and feel uncomfortable expressing their vulnerabilities. I would be most happy if Dan were to seek some counsel.

I love you, Dan. I will never leave you. I am here for you.

Your wife,

Paula

A week ago I got some stomach discomfort and felt that this was some more of the side effects. I quickly found out that this was an assumption that was wrong when I started throwing up. I had the flu. But the first thought in my head was that it was related to my cancer. Every ache, and pain I have now I think, “Does this have something to do with my cancer?” I don’t want to live in fear as that has never been my style but when you have cancer it just pops in your head when your body does something and you are not sure why. I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.

A Dream Deferred

by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

We purchased appliances for our vacation home in northern Michigan on the beautiful Leelanau peninsula. Dan and I are not rich. It may sound that way because we have a second home. No, we have always been just damned hard workers willing to sacrifice a bit in the present for a big win in the future.

Actually none of it was ever a sacrifice. Although we lived in a tiny, used pop-up camper in the middle of the woods without a toilet for seven summers, I would not give up that experience for the life of me. Not only did we deal with an extremely cramped lifestyle, but we also lived in the camper with a Labrador and four cats! Somedays we were so sick of one another that we fought like cats and dogs. The pun IS intended. LOL. I remember that one summer it rained every single day and the weight of the rain would cause the canvas walls of the camper to close in on us making our little home seem even more like a claustrophobic cell.

Thirteen years later we have a majestic home on stilts overlooking one of the most pristine bodies of water in the country. It is land that my grandfather bought for less than a couple dollars an acres right after World War I. I come from a family of preservationists who have always lived simply and below their means. Both Dan and I came from parents who insisted on working hard and being self-reliant. For that, I give much thanks.

We will have a real kitchen this summer in our house. For the past seven years we have been cooking on the porch with a microwave, a gas grill and washing dishes, brushing teeth, etc, in an old 1950’s laundry sink we picked up at a local yard sale. Dan rigged it up with hoses.

Each year we have added one big improvement to this house. It is and has been art in progress. We were willing to keep our eye on the ball and wait for what we wanted. And the good part is that we enjoyed every single little improvement more than we would had we been able to get it all done at once. It was a big decision to start building rather than wait until we could afford it.
I am so glad that we decided to build the house the way that we did because we have been able to enjoy the property for going on fourteen summers now. It is not a good idea to put dreams aside.

It is good to learn to take things slowly and enjoy what we have in the present. It is good that we are not looking too far ahead. Building our house this way helped teach us this. Living with cancer is teaching us even more.

I am going to post a little note that I received the other day from an Internet pal. I met her from the women’s group on PHML that is a mailing list for women whose husbands have prostate cancer. Here it is:

"Two Days We Should Not Worry" By Author Unknown

There are two days in every week, about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension. One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares, …we cannot erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone forever.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with all its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and its poor performance; …Tomorrow’s sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, …

This leaves only one day, Today. Any person can fight the battle of just one day. It is when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down. It is not the experience of Today that drives a person mad, it is the remorse or bitterness of something which happened Yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring. Let us, therefore, Live but one day at a time.

Have a good day.

Paula

Prostate cancer does not make a man sick right away like some other cancers. In fact, one of the positive things that being on the Internet so much has taught me is that there are many many men with statistical parameters much worse than Dan’s who are up and about. And it is this reality that we must focus upon.

Another thing that may help some of you out there who are scared is the knowledge that a person diagnosed with cancer just has some information on a piece of paper that most people do not have.
It is very likely that some of  those folks will die years before those of you who have a pathology report in hand.

Look at the headlines each day. People die in freak accidents. People die from a condition they did not know that they had. None of us know when we will go or how we will go.

Dan and I try to laugh together each day. We get DVD’s via Netflix. I highly recommend the HBO series Curb Your Enthusiasm. We are not scheduling these laughter sessions in hopes of a cure, rather we laugh because it feels so good. And cancer does force oneself to make the most of each day.

Laughter is a gift from God. I do not want to think where we would be without it.

It has taken me the five months since the diagnosis to cultivate an upbeat attitude.
I first had to acknowlege my fear, my anger and my sadness. I still get sad, but that is only if I am looking ahead.

Please do not push your feelings down in hopes that they will go away. I truly believe that my allowing myself to feel and to write about my array of feelings has helped me get to a place of equanimity with the situation.

Your fear is not bad. Your anger is not bad. Your sadness is not bad. I always would tell my students how much journaling helped me realize where I was in relation to a particular life event.

Allow yourself to feel whatever comes up.

I like this thought: WHATEVER COMES UP IS ON ITS WAY OUT!

Eudora Welty

I have always loved quotes. They bolster my spirit. Reading has always been one of my best friends. I am working hard to look for the good around each corner. I am working hard to live IN THE MOMENT.

Conscious breathing really helps. On a good day I lie down on the couch and breathe consciously for thirty minutes.I take in as much air as possible on the inhale and go gentle on the exhale.

This process is one I learned many years ago. It brings up suppressed feelings since our bodies remember and store our joy, our sadness, our anger, our fear, etc. in the body.

I practically always end up crying a bit, but the key is to keep breathing.
I keep breathing through all of the feelings allowing them to surface, and I always feel a tremendous lightening of the spirit after my session.

My cats are very attracted to this breathing I do, and invariably they join me on the couch thus increasing my very joy in the moment.

Try it. It is good.

We don’t have HBO, so we are always a season behind but who cares? It is so important to laugh lots each day. Dan and I have always laughed and joked around with one another.

Right now I feel very thankful for humor, and its gift of release and its ability to change the context in which we view things.

That brings to mind that I was thinking recently that I have been called upon to describe in great detail my urinary activity as well as descriptions of the size, shape, color of the other deposit we all have to make. If you are getting treatment or you are about to, just get use to it. Everyone is interested in “how strong is your flow” or “do you have starting hesitation”, “does your stream start and stop”, “how often do you go”, ”how many times do you get up at night” and on and on. They have even managed to measure how much urine is left in my bladder after going to the bathroom. They have inspected the inside of my bladder and urethra with a scope that projected the image on a TV screen and I hear it is up for an Emmy. I must say I missed most of it because the scope that was being used seemed be as large as a fire hose and I "might" have been flopping around a bit on the table from the discomfort. With out a doubt the exterior has been scrutinized many times. And every Doctor I meet of course wants to do a DRE or stick a sizeable object into places where sun don’t shine. This all goes with the turf of having prostate cancer and/or urinary issues. If you have problems with anything I have said get over it!!! It is your life that we are talking about and your pride and your dignity have nothing to do with it, however your urinary track does. So suck it up and do EXACTLY what the doctor wants because it is in your best interest.

Because of all of this I can’t tell you how happy I am that at this point my symptoms are minimal. All of the potty talk is getting to me besides I do have my dignity to think of….

Shortly after my mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, she said something to me that I think of often.

She said, "Paula, last summer I was drawn to take my sterling silver flatware out of its case and put it in the kitchen silverware drawer for daily use. I was somewhat puzzled as to why I felt the urge to do so. I guess that a deeper part of me knew that my days were winding down."

Here are some things that I do:

Telling myself that I will allow myself to lie down and read AFTER I have gotten the house all shaped up

Telling myself that one day I will get to Hawaii and even though I have the time and the money not doing it because I assume that one day it will happen

Saving those new candles to burn for when we have company

Waiting to have a little get together at my home with good friends rather than just doing it now- spur of the moment.

Postponing listening to all of the songs on my new CD

Deciding to call my seventy-eight year old father tomorrow instead of today.

Behind all of these choices is an assumption. Behind all of this is the assumption that I will have a tomorrow.

We sure do assume a lot. Life- so fragile. Now- so real. Tomorrow- a mere dream.

BE HERE NOW. It took me years and years to understand how important it is to be present at all times.

When we are talking with a friend, that is all we should be doing. We should not be cooking, or cleaning or driving. We should be talking with our friend.

When we are resting, we should be lying about just staring off into the moment. We should not be watching television or working on the laptop.

When we are eating, we should be chewing, swallowing and tasting. We should not be thinking about what happens next.

It has been my world for too long that I spend much time anticipating "what is next" while in the midst of the now.

Just some random thoughts after a couple of glasses of Japanese plum wine.

BE HERE NOW.

How many little things to we put off each day that would provide us with a modicum of pleasure in the the moment? Just think if we were to allow ourselves to totally enjoy each and every moment by giving ourselves permission to induge those small passions. Each of those small passions would add up to much fuller and more blissful moments.

What ARE we waiting for?

Three men can have Stage III cancer (any type) and one might die fast, the other might live for some years to come and one may live for a long time and die of something else altogether.

IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE IS DIAGNOSED WITH CANCER, YOU MUST ASK TO RECEIVED A DETAILED COPY OF THE PATHOLOGY REPORT. IT IS ALSO VERY IMPORTANT TO HAVE THE SLIDES ANALYZED AGAIN BY A PATHOLOGIST WHO SPECIALIZES IN READING SLIDES FOR THE TYPE OF CANCER WITH WHICH YOU OR YOUR LOVED ONE IS DIAGNOSED. If your report is read only by a person who reads breast, testicular, lung, prostate, skin cancers all in a day’s work, then your report is not being read by a person whose eye has become trained to the nuances of your particular cancer.

People go around saying uniformed things like, “Oh, breast cancer is not that serious anymore”, or “Prostate cancer rarely is deadly.” Bull. It is how normal or abnormal the cells look under the microscope that really reveals the aggressiveness of a cancer.

Unfortunately, most people never receive their path report from the doctor. It is not hard to learn to read one. You just get on the Internet and look up all of the terms. Any reasonably intelligent person with Internet access can learn within a couple of hours what the true story is.
Many doctors do not even bother to discuss the cellular situation with their patients. They just tell them that they have cancer and what the stage is. It is NOT the stage that is as significant as the grade. By grade I am referring to the way the cells look-  its aggressiveness. So theoretically a person can be diagnosed with an early stage, but if his cancer is of a high grade he could be dead way before a person diagnosed with a later stage but a less aggressive cancer.

I am including this post because I know there are many folks like Dan and me who want to know all of the parameters of their disease. It is only in being truly informed that one can make the best treatment decision. It is only in being truly informed that one can explore options. It is only in being truly informed that one loses some of the fear, for I believe that what we do not know is far worse than knowing even if the facts are not good. Avoidance and denial create far more anxiety.

Use your good minds to learn as much as you can.

LEARN TO READ A PATHOLOGY REPORT.

By the way Dan’s cells are upper medium or low high grade. Not great, but I have met many men with prostate cancer on the Internet who are still living ten years later and had much worse situations than Dan’s at diagnosis. We have good reason for hope.

Anyone who knows me knows that I analyze everything. Sometimes I get a bit overly zealous, but that is the English teacher in me; I love to learn. In my opinion, that is a good thing in our case. We will look to today, and we will look toward many tomorrows.

Dan and I have really been glad to have this blog. It has been therapeutic for us. It has helped to keep the communication doors open in our relationship. Shutting down out of fear would make the situation far worse.

I must look to other things in my life that are as real as Dan’s cancer. I must look to those things in my life that make me feel joyful. I was just starting to turn that proverbial corner to more optimism last week.

We arrived home from Sarasota this afternoon. Dan and I did get more sobering news regarding his situation. Dr. Dattoli met with me after the surgery and told me that there was a “large volume of cancer’ and that the cancer had escaped the prostate. Dan has been upgraded to a more serious stage of the disease. He must continue with the hormone ablation therapy, and he must return in three months for eight more radiation treatments. I asked the doctor if Dan had been told this latest development, and the doctor said that he had not. The doctor asked me if I wanted Dan to know. I said of course. Dan and I are not playing mind games with information. We already have enough stress in our relationship. I told Dr. D. that I wanted him to tell Dan because Dan will listen to the doctor better than he listens to me.

We had pretty much suspected that the cancer was outside of the prostate, but we were hoping that was not the case. Statistically, Dan still has a very good chance of living ten years or more and even longer if he is in the “winning part” of the statistics. The next three years will be the most crucial in terms of if this treatment “takes”. It will be a good while before we will get a good read on this. Any scans or blood work will not be indicative of much of anything since the drugs and radiation have created an environment that will give artificial readings.

We live. We wait. We hope. The facts are all out there on the table. Dan must adjust to many things now that he did not know two days ago. He thought that he would not have to have any more radiation. He thought that he could go off the hormone therapy. He hoped that the earlier indicators that the prostate cancer was not contained were wrong. He is now on even more drugs than before. That, too, will be another adjustment. He is also forbidden to consume spicy foods, anything with tomatoes, caffeine, tea (not even herbal), carbonated beverages and alcoholic beverages. He does not like this. Dan enjoys his food. He loves to cook.

A diagnosis of cancer involves have to give up a lot. One must let go of certain illusions of ever lasting health. One gives up familiar routines and habits. We as a couple slowly must adjust to what is referred to as the “new normal”. There is every reason for hope as the statistics are on our side. He has nearly a 100% chance of living five years. He has an 80% chance of being disease free in ten years. If he makes it ten years, then he has an even better chance of living what would be his normal life span. We will each deal with this in our own way. I plan to exercise a lot, listen to rock and roll daily and see much more of our friends than I have been. Dan will hopefully join me in this. There is nothing more to talk about in terms of the cancer at present. It appears as though he has made it through the implant procedure with no side effects. The early indicators are excellent.

I spent most of the day at the hospital only taking a brief break to go two blocks down the street to my sister’s house. I saw a lot of sad sights at the hospital. I saw a fourteen-year-old boy so skinny from cancer that he had to be supported by his mother and grandmother. I saw an eighty-year-old blind man trying to find the cancer ward so that he could visit his wife. I saw a man in his thirties without health insurance writhing on the floor in pain in the emergency room. The nurse in attendance yelled at him and told him to sit in a chair. She offered him no help. Melanie and I went and bought him a bottle of water.

Sarasota, Florida is not a good place to be if one does not have financial means. I could tell that the well-heeled retirees in the emergency room were shocked to see a person who had no health insurance. I hope they were more shocked by the treatment he received from the nurse. We happened to be in the emergency room because as coincidence would have it my eighty-year-old aunt was admitted yesterday with a serious kidney infection. My sister and I spent most of the day navigating the maze of hallways at Sarasota Memorial Hospital. We both commented on how hard it must be to be very old, frail, and hard of hearing and have to find one’s way through the bureaucracy of the medical world.

I absolutely know that I want to become a patient advocate at some point and use my good mind and my very assertive approach with doctors and nurses to help people who cannot help themselves. I don’t care if the doctors or nurse like me. They are hired help, and if they find themselves in that line of work then they must perform adequately. If they do not want to, then they must leave the profession. Lord help the old and the weak and the uneducated folks.

Sarasota has become the land of the rich and yes, famous too. Jerry Springer lives down the street from my sister. Seems to me that ought to cause property values to go down. LOL. It was not that way when my sister and I were growing up there. It was a sleepy little town that just happened to be on the beautiful Gulf of Mexico. The developers are tearing down older dwellings to make room for cookie cutter Mac Mansions (read McDonalds) enclosed in gated communities. They are currently ousting old people from their mobile home villages on Sarasota Bay because as one developer was quoted in the Herald Tribune “People who live in mobile homes have no business living on the water.” When my sister finishes her teaching career in four years, she plans to leave. Most people she knows are getting plastic surgery, so they can continue to be part of the forever youthful smart set.

Our world is so screwed up. Values and morals have gone to hell in a hand basket. I have no patience at all with superficiality about aging and the American obsession with finances. We are fast becoming a country without a middle class. It is not a good place to be if one is sick and without means. Dan and I are luckier than most. It is on that fact that we must focus.

After fretting over this procedure for months now I have found that is was no big deal and I don’t know why ANYONE would opt for surgery. I was in the hospital until 7:30 this morning barely 25 hours and that was just to flush my bladder and make sure I could pee. The two things I was very worried about were the spinal anesthesia and the Foley catheter. The Foley catheter was inserted down my penis into my bladder. This was used to irrigate my bladder and to drain it at the same time. These are quite often painful upon removal. Thankfully I had no pain. None at all and believe me I was grateful and surprised. The spinal worried me the most because I didn’t understand how it was administered. I received a numbing shot of Novocain first and then a needle was inserted into my spinal column and about 1/30 of an ounce of anesthesia was injected into my spine. Didn’t hurt at all. I was under the impression that the needle was left in my back and that some sort of drip was used. My ignorance. It was no big deal. I started to get numb from my toes up my legs and up to where the injection was given. I was also given a drug to put me to sleep and I did so while 73 pieces of palladium were injected into my prostate through my Perineum. This is the area of the body between the anus and the scrotum. A perineal procedure uses this area as the point of entry into the body.

The next thing I remember I was being wheeled into the recovery room like I just woke up from a nap. But I had a very odd feeling. I felt like my legs were still in the sturrips I had been in during the procedure. I could clearly see my legs on the table but they felt like they were still in the air. It was very odd. I also couldn’t move my legs at all. This freaked me out a little but the nurse told me it was quite normal. And then I could move one foot a little and then the other. I was then taken to my room where I was told I couldn’t get out of bed for at least 6 hours because I could get very bad headache and I would not be able to balance myself to walk. It took me nearly 6 hours for the numbness in my legs to go away. I was also told to force drink as much fluid as I could and I did. Before I went to sleep I drank at least 10 pitchers of cranberry juice. I had some pain meds and I also could control when I needed some more. I had my catheter removed at about 4 in the morning and I was up and gone from the hospital at about 7:30, 25 hours after I started.

This morning I had to visit the Dattoli center for some more CAT scans to determine the exact placement of the seeds and to obtain some more meds and counseling on post op care. I can expect to have some more urinary issues like I did with the IMRT treatments but we are working on heading those off before they occur. I also found out today that I have to come back in the middle of the summer from my summer home in Michigan for some more IMRT treatments for about 10 days. I did read this in the documents that they gave me but I didn’t for some reason retain the information. Lots was going on I guess.

If the information above does not dissuade you from surgery I don’t know what will. Remember I am up and walking around today with no holes in my body and nothing removed. And frankly I am feeling much better than I thought I would. I am a little sorer than I was from my biopsy but this is nothing a couple of days of rest won’t take care of. At best with surgery you will be bedridden for 2-6 weeks. ON YOUR BACK. This is with no guarantee that the cancer will be gone. You will also have a high likelihood of having urinary incontinence and becoming impotent. All of these things in my opinion are not good. But to each their own path I guess.

So the wait begins again. In 90 days I will be back for some more scans and treatments and at that time I will be able to find out how well the treatment has gone. I have full confidence in my doctors and their staff, as I have never encountered such a professional and caring group of dedicated people in my life. They are truly passionate about what they do. True artist and I am glad I chose them as my doctors.

I also went to Sarasota Memorial to get pre-admitted and to get some blood work. So on Thursday I will just have to show up at 6:30 in the AM and I will be off to get an atomic prostate. I also found out for sure today that Dr. Dattoli would be doing my implants. It is odd that I have all of the trust in the skill of a man I have not even met yet. But this is how Dr. Dattoli and Dr. Sorace divide up their workload. Dr. Dattoli does the implants and Dr. Sorace supervises the IMRT treatments. I am sure that I will talk to him before hand but still it is odd.

On Wednesday Paula and I will go to Sarasota and get a hotel room so we won’t have to do the early one-hour drive and I can get some rest before the procedure. I will have to stay in the hospital overnight and when I am released I will have to go to the Dattoli center for a scan to see the exact placement of the seeds and compare this to the pre-op plan. I am hopeful that this will in fact be the end of my treatments, as planned, only to return for check ups. I pray that I am correct.

I am definitely in a different head space for sure. I am not counting the days to the next event. I am not googling “prostate cancer” left and right. I am not saying that it doesn’t come up but the thoughts are further back in my mind. I am almost viewing next Thursday as the terminus for my cancer journey. An end of some sort. Perhaps it will be an end to all the appointments, the prodding and poking, the removal of bodily fluids, the driving, and the worries. I can only hope that once I arrive at the station I don’t find a construction crew building new tracks.

And that is where I find myself at present. I cannot control any of what has happened to Dan’s health. I have felt enraged that once again another illusion has been dispelled. That illusion was that life in Dan’s and my house would remain untouched by any significant loss, and that somehow we were in a bubble protected from the big, bad, scary stuff.

Most of my family has died; I have experienced the loss of a significant number of coworkers and friends, but stlll the illusion remained in my mind that we were untouchable. Of course, logically I knew that not to be so, but most people can’t and shouldn’t live in waiting for the bad stuff to happen because one would go nuts.
I don’t believe in life after death; from where I am this is probably all there is. We are biological creatures .
Maybe our "energy" transmutes into plant life or whatever, but I don’t think that we go somewhere where we see our loved ones who have died. Oh, it is a lovely thought, but try as I might, I don’t feel that is the case. So with that in mind I believe THIS LIFE IS IT. And I do not like the way I have been living my life as of late.

I am now totally aware that I am the kind of person who for the rest of her life is going to have to force herself to feel light and hopeful- for the choice of living with the dark will only lead to more dark.We all have our individual proclivities in the way that our minds process information. Some of that is genetic. Some of that is enviroment. Some of that is choice. I am very aware that I have the ability to end it all if I just cannot bear anymore psychological pain, but I am not in that space at present, and I hope that I never am.

I just got practical three days ago about what I can do to pull myself out of my hole. I know that physical exercise really helps my spirits. I have now commanded myself to workout no less than five days per week. That does help, and that is something I CAN control. It really does work. Within ten minutes into my forty-five minute routine, I felt a lightness of heart and a lifting of spirits.

I also can clean up my eating habits. I know that too much sugar depresses me, so there is another thing I can take some control of. I started that three days ago. Candy is like mother’s milk to me. Sugar in my mother’s home was always available. Mom was a fantastic baker, and some of my happiest memories are of baking hot cross buns, molasses cookies, homemade fudge, cherry pudding and white cakes with seven minute frosting coated with coconut and filled with lemon. I cannot cook my way out of a bag, but I can bake. Mom also kept a candy jar in the house filled with those gummy sugar orange slices or jelly beans. When I go into Walgreens I literally start to salivate when I see those packages by Brach’s. Mom was not fat. She was model thin. She loved looking good in clothes too much, so instead of other things she subsisted on sugar. I must admit that if I could get away with it I would eat as much sugar as possible. I was raised to be a sugar junkie.

I know that escaping into a good book or movie helps. That now must be a part of my day.

I also know that getting out of the house and away from the laptop is crucial. I work out of my house, so I really rarely have to leave it. I can sell objects online, print my own postage and just put the packages outside the door for the postman to retrieve. Staying inside is attractive for a person of my temperment. I love to be alone. I am never bored. Most of what I enjoy are things that I do by myself. However, staying in for five days in a row is not doing me any good. So I also decided that I absolutely must do something with a friend, run errands, etc. at least twice a week. Just seeing others faces, sharing a bit of laughter, even the small talk with strangers which I generally hate does bring a modicum of comfort.

I am trying to establish a "new normal" for me. I can live as Dan’s wife and let this diagnosis eat away at me, or I can
force myself to do the stuff for myself that I know lifts my spirits.

It is hard to take control of oneself. It is doubly hard when one is depressed. I have been very very depressed. I continue on an antidepressant because I do not feel that now is a good time to wean myself from it. I have taken a good long look at myself, and I have willed myself to change the things I can and to accept the things that I cannot.
They call that serenity. I’d like some of that serenity, and I will fight to get some inside of me.

It appears that my darkness is the boulder that I must keeping pushing up that hill.

I hope that some of the words I write help some folks out there in Cyberland not to feel alone. We, who live in the dark, are not crazy. We just hang there often. A therapist once told me that I am overly empathic. . My eighty year old aunt attributes it to what she calls my artistic temperment. I just call it being Paula. Whatever the reason change is in order. It has been necessary to confront my dark spaces, for it has only been in doing so that I can create a mode of attack against them.

I read the other day that life either makes one bitter or better. I want to go with the better.

Well I haven’t been in the space where I needed to talk about, "THE SITUATION", as Paula puts it. Somehow in my mind I have gotten to a plateau of some sort and I haven’t been obsessing on my cancer or the treatment I am getting. This is partly because I am in the middle of a break between my treatments. When this all began both Paula and myself were very freaked out and with that sort of feeling you want the cancer gone. Now! You don’t understand that for some cancers you have time, you don’t understand why can’t they do all of these blasted test on one day. Instead the doctors methodically go from one test to the next as the results are known. I have come to accept this at this point.

So now that my mindset has changed somewhat I am in a place were I can now obsess on the things that I obsessed on before the cancer. I believe that this is good. At least I am getting more things done.

My next big hurtle is the actual procedure to implant my seeds. This will happen on March 23 and requires me to stay overnight at the hospital. Amazingly I am not feeling any trepidation regarding this procedure. I think that with all of my previous treatments at the Dattoli Center I have realized that I am in VERY good hands. So I am letting go of trying to control the “THE SITUATION” and just let it happen, it is much easier that way.

The columnist Ellen Goodman writes, "So whatever our national passion for emotional efficiency, for quality-time parents and one-minute managers, there are simply no one-minute mourners."

The myth exists in our culture that there is an acceptable time period to be set aside for grieving, usually one year. But this ignores the reality of human nature. Each person is unique: each loss is unique. The expectation of a "deadline" beyond which you no longer grieve is just plain wrong and adds to your burden. This amounts to blaming the person who is grieving for his or her suffering, rather than trying to understand it-another form of "blaming the victim."

The only reason that other people want someone to put the lid on painful emotions is because they do not want to be reminded of their own emotional pain that they have locked away.

If you do not have room for your own pain, you will not have room for the pain of others.

Coming to terms with a new painful reality takes me time. I need to write about it. I need to cry about it. I need to live with it until I have found a way to approach it with a sense of equanimity.

Each bout of loss forges our soul to be stronger and therefore more open to the pain of others. If we try to hurry ourselves through feeling, we are doing damage to ourselves.

This is my truth.

As Ram Dass told me after my mother died, "Paula, we must learn to keep our hearts open in hell."
And that is what I try to do. I do not want to go through life with a closed heart.
Closed hearts can creat a host of other problems like drinking too much, drug abuse, overeating, overworking and on and on and on.

We are on this earth to live. And for me that means acknowledging all aspects of my life- not just the parts that are efficiant and pleasant.

I was thinking the other day that in a huge way cancer is as much about the emotional as it is about the physical. Cancer is about fear and uncertainty. Those are two things that most of us do not like to have in our faces. At least that’s how it is for me. It feels good to feel in control . It’s like that feeling of riding a two-wheeler for the very first time. Big situations like cancer or death or anything that is scary and painful put us back on trikes for awhile, but eventually one does get back on the big kid’s bike again.

One of the cool things that my years of teaching did for me was to make me aware of how much more alike we humans are than different I really understand what Albert Schweitzer meant when he said, “Nothing human is alien to me”,

So why do so many of us wear masks. Why are we so afraid to acknowledge all of our feelings?

Cancer brings up the dark. For me it brought up terrible fear. That was first. Next, it brought up intense rage. Then the rage started transmuting into bitterness. AND THAT’S WHEN I SAID, “Jump Back, Girl”. I do not intend to become a bitter person, but I had to go through the whole process of the fear and the rage to get to the other side. Maybe one day I will be able to short circuit this emotional process. or maybe that’s how how it is supposed to be for me.

It would have been far worse if I had maintained a stiff upper lip stance and “acted” as my husband’s brave cheerleader because I would have been faking. Dan is an adult. I am an adult. At first I felt the burden to be cheery wife and emotional protector. I realized that act is degrading to Dan. That’s like my assuming that I am stronger. We are equally strong, and we are equally vulnerable..

I know I love Dan because I know his dark side, and I still love him.
I know that Dan loves me because he knows my dark side, and he still loves me.

There is a pressure on people to appear pleasant at all times. Part of the stress so many of us experience comes from all of the acting we do.

That’s one of the best things about being retired. I only have to be with me when I am not feeling pleasant. And that is one of the really cool things about blogging. Blogging gets it out of me. It’s like talking to someone but not subjecting anyone to it.

“Between whom there is hearty truth there is love….”

Henry David Thoreau

 Dan found them for me the day of the Columbine High School shooting. That day really hurt my heart because I was a high school teacher for over thirty years, and at that time I was still teaching. I felt so grieved that our world had gotten to a place where a young person would take siege on his school. Columbine was the first big incident of that type. Since then there have been many more.

I remember the next day crying while I talked to my students about what it meant to me. I told them how sad I was for them that they were not growing up in a world like I did- a world where Mom and Dad did not have to lock the house- a world where one never locked his car- a world when a person’s handshake sealed a deal for real. The baby kitties came into our lives the same evening and I remember holding each of them close to my chest as we watched the coverage of the Columbine incident. I remember being awed again at the very paradoxes of life- how ugliness and horror can coexist with innocence and beauty.

 Life is a balancing act it seems. We are on that tightrope, and if we move gracefully with surefootedness we will get to the other side without too much damage. For me it seems that I must always allow myself to wallow in the darkness before I am able to see the light. This morning I feel great. I think the darkness within me is at bay, and I believe that Dan and I have many more seas to sail together.

Allergies whatever- I’ll take the springtime. My spirits are suddenly lifted. I think it is because I see the tiny green buds forming and the days are longer. It is no longer dark at 5:30. Here in Florida the change in the seasons is subtle but most noticeable to those of us who have lived here a long while. We have been walking now for one week, and the exercise has also lifted my spirits. We only walk two miles. I know that is not much, but for us right now it is good. I used to be a great exerciser. I ran in 10K’s. I lifted 20lb free weights. I had rock hard muscles and a lean body, but like I mentioned in an earlier post this stress has been like a heavy weight. It has been like I have been hooked to a ball and chain. I have been slow, listless and awkward in my movements.

Springtime, walking, kitties, sandals and tanned legs, our ever present sunshine and the green, green green everywhere feels so good.

 “In the midst of winter I found within me an invincible summer.” Albert Camus

So my appointment for the implant has been set for the 23rd of March. In twenty-three days, twenty-three days to go. Again I wait another count down. Another twenty-three days for anxiety to build. Another twenty-three days of Paula obsessing on my cancer, not to mention me. This is almost as long as my EMRT treatments but without the drive. I am tired of the countdowns and being at the top of the roller coaster and then at the bottom of it. I am tired of doctor’s appointments. I’m tired of the pills. I am tired of no libido.

But I got to tell ya I am kinda digging the hair growth.

#1 He is a man. I am a woman.
#2 He is methodical about dealing with things. He does stuff, and then crosses it off his list. In some ways, he has been doing this with his cancer. I am very abstract and random. I am a daydreamer, and I have great difficulty getting this cancer out of my mind.

Back in November when we got some worrisome information about the aggressiveness of his tumor, I was the first to know since the lab emailed the results. At first, I thought I would not tell Dan because he was under so much stress already. Then when he got home I sat him down and told him that the tumor was aneuploid and that made it an angrier cancer that could prove to be resistant to hormone treatment. I told him that I had thought about not telling him, and he looked at me and told me to NEVER keep any information from him.

Is ignorance bliss? Don’t know. I am not ignorant, and I do not keep myself from reading and research. I research everything. My natural inclination is to know. However, sometimes the more one knows about cancer the more frightening things can get. And, to be honest, I think I have learned too much for my own good, and I feel somewhat haunted.

I am also haunted because I took care of my mother while she died a painful death from cancer. I administered the morphine. I heard her moans. I talked with her about how she was feeling emotionally and physically. The hospice nurse who came a couple times of week looked at me one day and said, "Most adult children would never come through that front door." I was shocked when I heard this because there was never a question that I would be there for my mother. But that is how much cancer scares people. Many people will not go visit a person with cancer because it frightens  them so much. Say I am holding on to a bad memory. Nope. Once you have nursed a person dying of cancer you do not forget the mind pictures. Wish I could. Can’t.

I am a very opinionated person, and I am sorry to sound didactic, but I think a huge part of being an adult is facing fear and mortality. I will also add that I believe that people have a responsibility to their loved ones  that are sick. I could not live with myself if I ran from a loved one because his disease frightened me.

Call me judgmental. That’s correct. I am.

This evening we were doing our walk, and I brought up a subject that was unrelated to the cancer, but then somehow the cancer came up. The walk is supposed to be relaxing. It is just that this cancer is relatively new, and it is very hard for me to put on rose-colored glasses at this point in time.

Yes, perhaps I obsess. That’s me. I am intense. I am passionate. I, to use Thoreau’s words again, intend "to suck the very marrow out of life."

That’s my style. Dan likes that about me, but when it comes to cancer he does not like that about me.

I am on a couple of Internet lists that are for women whose husbands have or had prostate cancer. Some of these women have been dealing with this for a long while. Some of these women are widows. Some of these women are like me- we are involved with "newly diagnosed" men, and we need like hell  to talk to other women who are going through this.

I am a very blunt and outspoken person. You either really like me, or you really do not like me. I make no apologies. I can’t do denial. I can’t do pretense.

At this point the only thing that will help me is a prefrontal lobotomy. LOL. Hopefully, Dan will live a long time with this cancer, and my mind will adjust. Things take time. Yes, I am scared. Sorry, I can’t assuage anyone’s fears at the moment. I have told Dan that he knows how I am, and it is most important for him to realize that my reality is not necessarily REAL. It is just where I am. I am in fear right now. Today for some reason it has been very bad.

Still cancer is not far from my thoughts but it is at least not totally consuming as it has been. Paula on the other hand is not as far along in my opinion. I think she still thinks on some level that this cancer will return. Or at least that is her fear. She related a story of a man who also went to the Dattoli Center but is having a relapse. While we don’t know any of the particulars of his case Paula, of course, relates his situation to me. She tends to be more fearful than I and I am not sure why. See always goes for the worse case scenario and I tend to look at the best-case scenario. Am I in denial? I think not. I am trying not to think of what will happen “tomorrow” and only deal with what is here now.

What is here now is that on Monday I have to go see my Urologist for my two-week check since I last saw him. Then I will know if I have to have the green light laser procedure for my urinary issues. If I do then I know that in four weeks after the procedure I will be able to have my seeds implanted. While I do have to do these things I don’t look at them with dread but just items on my list of things to do before I am done with this ordeal. That is partly what having cancer is like; we have more things to do.

hot flashes (these may go away with time)
breast tenderness and growth of breast tissue
osteoporosis (weakening of bones) leading to bone fractures
anemia (low red blood cell counts)
decreased mental acuity
loss of muscle mass
weight gain
fatigue
decrease in HDL (”good”) cholesterol
depression

Well it is time for an update. The last time I talked about this I was referencing my poor memory and decreased mental acuity. Well since that time I also had breast tenderness ( that was weird ) early on. I have also gained weight much to Paula’s displeasure. Got fatigue covered and I believe depression slipped in there early on. And lastly what all you women out there want to hear, yes hot flashes. The kind of hot flashes where perspiration forms on your forehead on a cold day. I now feel your pain.

What I was not prepared for was the side effect that I just noticed today. I am not sure you can tell from the picture of me on the blog that I am very folically challenged. I can blind you with the reflection off the top of my head. Well I have always had some peach fuzz but this morning looking in the mirror I notice that I had a great deal more than that. I could actually grab a hold of it!!!! Whooo Hoooo!!!

Now this I can handle. I think I’ll go to the store in the convertible that I am thinking about getting to pick up some hair gel so I can spike my new growth!! I am soooo stoked.

The old adage about the squeaky wheel getting the grease– it is true.
And women do remember; Nice girls finish last. And so do nice guys.

Doctors are businessmen who practice medicine.

QUESTION AUTHORITY, but may I change that— stop thinking of doctors as authority figures. With the advent of the Internet, you often know more than they about the newest and/or alternative ways of dealing with your particular health problem.

Authority is only authoritative IF you choose to give away your power to it.

As women we made great strides in the seventies when we demanded abortions, we demanded that yearly mammorgrams be covered by insurance, we demanded more breast cancer research.
When I was in my twenties, I remember making a doctor so mad that he told me to cure myself. I told him that if I’d had the ability to write a script for the meds I knew I needed I would. All I needed was his John Doe.

Men as a whole do not talk about their health issues. That is the main reason that the funding for prostate cancer research is way down on the list. Breast cancer is first in funding followed by Aids.

Do not let fear of disapproval keep you from getting what you want.

I advised my friend to rethink the TURP procedure because in the future if he should ever get prostate cancer the TURP procedure would disqualify him for seed implants. There is a less invasive procedure that uses a green light laser that does the same thing. Anything that is less invasive, in my opinion, is good if it achieves the same purpose. But we as men tend to think that whatever the doc says is the best thing. Hate to tell you folks but that just ain’t so. It may come down to the fact that the, doctor in question, doesn’t have a green light laser or has not been trained on one or it doesn’t pay as much. Guys you have to look out for yourself, ALWAYS QUESTION the doctor as to other less invasive procedures whenever these options are presented to you. It is your body and YOU will have to pay the piper not the doctor.

Dr. Cox said that it takes about two years. I was surprised that he had an answer to the question, but he is the kind of doctor who really seems to care about his patients’ emotional state as well.

My sister said that now there are days that pass when cancer does not enter her mind. It has been seven years for her now.

A bad health diagnosis is a death of sorts– the death of the illusion that we are immortal. The death of the idea that our lives as we know them will last forever. So Dan is grieving. And grieving takes time.

From my own experience I have found that the most importance thing is for me to be gentle with myself. and to give myself mercy. It is so important in times like this to embrace our vulnerable feelilngs and to comfort ourselves by treating ourselves like kings and queens.

I hurt that Dan hurts. If I were a giant eraser, I would get in his brain and do my thing.

I have been ordering lots of comedy DVDs. Tonight we watched three segments from Dave Chappelle’s show. We love him. Wanda Sykes is hysterically funny. Chris Rock . And anything from the Farley Brothers. We love funny stuff.

I have been forcing myself to watch a good light movie often. I need escape. I haven’t been too successful at reading lately. My mind wanders. Right now a good movie really helps.
I watched "In Her Shoes". I love Shirley MacLaine. The movie was sappy and sweet, but it made me feel happy. That’s all that matters.

My radiation treatments are over and I am trying to get my life back to as close to normal as I can. So I am trying to return to my “normal” schedule as I can manage it. I need to also do some lifestyle changes; I need more exercise in my life but up to now I have been too fatigued to even do this.

I am feeling hopeful and confident that my treatments will be effective and I will be done with this whole mess by summer time. But even though I feel like my life is starting to get back to some normality I can still hear that word in my head which is sometimes a whisper and sometimes a yell…..

CANCER

You know I have heard that men supposedly think about sex every 15 seconds. Not anymore for me, now the word cancer comes to mind. Ever since this whole thing started that word has been ringing in my ears. At times in the beginning that is the only thing I heard. Cancer, Cancer, Cancer. But now it is down to every 15 minutes or so just like when I use to think of sex. But as long as I am on the hormone therapy it will be unlikely that this will happen anytime soon. I pine for the good old days.

We will be putting in place some big changes. We have some ideas, and we are not ready to talk about them.

Life is a crap shoot.

thirty-two years of teaching high school kinda gets to be a part of you-

so this morning I wanted to share something that might help someone out there-

1. I believe in allowing ourselves to honor what we feel no matter how "bad or ugly or horrid or wrong" we may think the feeling is

2. I do not believe that these feelings need to be expressed to others

going back to my PAINT IT BLACK post- well, after I typed that out I made my butt get up and find the song so I could dance to it; honey, it took a really long time because our CD’s are in a mess right now

found it, printed out the words and sang and danced to it until I started to cry

Yep, crying oh, how it helps-
how it transforms the energy

I learned quite a few years ago that ALWAYS behind my rage is a tenderness so soft that
I am often afraid to expose it to the light of the day for fear that it may be damaged

Oh, how hard it is to be a human
How harder it is to feel vulnerable

It is only in the total acceptance of our own selves that we are able to come to a place of equinimity with the all of life and then be of service to another

okay, the podium has been pushed aside for now-
 
gonna clean house for thirty minutes and listen to my new BEST OF DINAH SHORE

ooh how I LOVE MUSIC

I know I am not easy to live with because I let it all out. Always have and have no plans of stopping. In fact, that is a big part of why you love me.

It is safe for you to come back from the store now. I’ve got the rage down to a slow simmer now.

I love you, Dan. You have every right to express whatever you feel about this abominable cancer.

But I notice that you seem to be overly concerned with how others are feeling about it. You told me that part of the reason for the blog was so that others would feel lighter about all of this. Don’t worry about them. Don’t try to downplay any of this to your friends or your family. They can deal with their own fear.

THIS IS YOUR LIFE, DAN.

I know that you are scared. Being in treatment kept you busy. Now you are left holding the bag. I sure as hell hope that it is one of those plastic bags and not a old paper one with a soggy bottom.

Yes, your posts are funny. Funny is good. But I know you well enough to know that behind the laughter is darkness, and I am here to tell you once again that I can handle the DARK. I KNOW your darkness- past and present as you know mine.

But when I look at you I see My Boy Dan- my big six foot four tall drink of water- the man of my dreams-
and the man who not only knows how to build houses, build computers from spare parts but also knows the difference between a Manet and a Monet- you are all I ever wanted in a partner- and I had been around the block many times before I met you at age thirty.

When I first met you on that tumbledown porch of that old Florida house on the shores of Lake Geneva before the developers raped Florida, I knew you were a special one. You were gonna be my man.

My love for you is fierce. I will protect you like a Mama Bear protects her cubs. I will always tell you the truth.
Our love has never been based on pretend. That would never have worked for people like us.

We’re hard rockers, honey. And I say, "Let’’s Dance."

"Between whom there is hearty truth there is love…."

Henry David Thoreau
1817-1862

I am sick of hearing about cancer, reading about cancer and on and on and on.

I don’t care if I am not a "nice" person. Nice is a milky, sappy adjective. If I were to have blog of my own, I would call it NICE GIRLS FINISH LAST. That has been my observation.

I am tired of giving, giving, giving. I am tapped out today, and I am feeling sorry for MYSELF. Today I am a VERY ANGRY WOMAN.

I am mad at the whole f’ing deal. My body hurts and aches, and I am tired of feeling so tired all of the time. I want the old life back. Yes, I said it. No, I know it is not gonna happen. Yes, I KNOW I AM NOT THE ONE WITH CANCER. Yes, I am grateful I don’t have cancer. Yes, I feel terrible for Dan. AND YES, I ALSO FEEL TERRIBLE FOR ME.

Men can be pissed and angry as hell, and that is "Oh, he is being a man."

Women get pissed and angry as hell, and "Oh, she is a bitch."

I just need to get this out . Better to Cyberspace than turning it inward on myself.

We are invited to our friends’ annual Valentine’s Party. Everything will be pink.
Today pink and love and happy and grateful STINK. I don’t feel all lovey dovey and
kind. I don’t feel like putting on the brave face and playing the loving wife.
I wanna dress in BLACK today. Everyone wants happy, happy,happy.

I do not have the energy today to be nice.

I am going to get up off this couch and dance to my favorite Stones song.

Rolling Stones — “Paint It Black”

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens ev’ry day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
It’s not easy facin’ up when your whole world is black

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the settin’ sun
My love will laugh with me before the mornin’ comes

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm,…
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!

I took my certificate and showed it off at work and had a little fun with it. I think it takes people aback a little when you show them an image, like the one below, and then cover up part of it because it is your “privates”. Folks laughed and I did too and I hope it takes away some of anxiety of having cancer put in your face.

It is odd how you get different kinds of certificates in your life. One when you are born. One when you get out of kindergarten. All of your report cards and things you did well during your schooling. All the accolades of your sports accomplishments in which you excelled. Your diploma when you graduated from school. And now I get one for going through cancer treatment. I hope I excelled because I’m not rushing to get that last certificate that one gets.

Hey I caught you looking.

Mamie’s home was my refuge. My parents were fiery fighters in a very unhappy marriage. They had to get married in 1950 due to my mother’s pregnancy with me. I still cannot sleep without the sound of an electric fan. That started back when I was a kid. I’d turn the fan on to drown out the yelling.

I doubt that Mom and Dad would have married if she had not been pregnant. I rather doubt that they loved one another, but I do know that they were passionate about one another. And I am pretty sure that I was conceived in passion. I’ll take that.

Mamie was Mom’s mother. She was my surrogate mother, and her home was my SAFE HOUSE. Born on the cusp of the Victorian Age, she was mostly starched and pressed with a tad of flapper thrown in for flavor. Mame had impeccable manners and preached the virtues of deportment, yet she had a modern naughty humor and could dress like she had stepped out of a bandbox. She was a rather remote woman, and most found her to be rather cold, but I adored her. She gave me the most precious gift of all - time. And she used it to teach me about the thing she loved best - the music of words and the balm they can bring to a hurting heart.

The past five months have been some of the darkest in my life. Reading and writing have helped me cope probably more than anything. No matter how gloomy my life may get I will always have my words. And for that, Mame, wherever you are, I will love you until I die.

When my grandmother died in 1997 at the age of ninety-one, my uncle gave me many of her papers. Written on the back of one of her datebook pages was this poem by John Dryden.

If you are spending a lot of your time involved with money concerns, I am sorry to tell you that you are way off key, dears. MONEY IS NOT GOING TO SAVE ANY ONE OF US.

Sorry to blow any illusions, but piling up a stash for that rainy day won’t save your life, but it may sentence you to a life that is half-lived.

I say BLOW IT. Blow every dime on PLEASURE. Let it rip and just stay with the trust that your well will be replenished.

You are going to die. Maybe sooner than later. Maybe later than sooner. Maybe today.

Live without fear.

I am shooting for the moon, and I am dragging Dan kicking and screaming with me. He has more fear about money than I. Money is bullshit.

Experience and fun and pleasure are what will matter when you are lying on your Death Bed.

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And childrens’s faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit’s still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstacy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Sara Teasdale 1884-1933

I went to my new urologist, Dr. Accosta, about my issues with my urinary frequency and urgency. He has worked with both Dr. Dattoli and Dr. Sorace when they both were in Tampa. This greatly reassured me. It appears that I am not fully emptying my bladder and this causes the frequency. He doubled my dose of Flomax and in two weeks he will examine me and then determine if I need to have the green laser procedure that I mention in an earlier post.

Also as of Thursday I will be able to stop taking three meds that I have been on to help protect me during the radiation treatment. This will be a huge reduction in my intake of pills. Very welcome news for me. Hopefully in three months I will be off all of the blasted things. That will make my little cancer adventure 10 months start to finish and it is very hard for me to get a grip on. That your life can be turned upside down and then 10 months later it’s over. I can only hope, but in reality I know better, it will never really be over. I will always be looking over my shoulder looking for the big C.

Just like in the movies– just living another nice day in September, looking forward to cooler temperatures and BAM– such is life, I guess. My grandparents never experienced any of that until they were in their late eighties, so not everyone gets to have so damned much fun so early. That, of course, is my sick humor at play there. Dan has the same type, and I would guess that this will be our saving grace. Humor.

I am really not sure if I am dealing very well– I take xanax and zoloft– I work practically nonstop because I guess I don’t want to think very much. When I am cleaning our house, or putting away Dan’s clean clothes sometimes I start to cry and say outloud that I want to be able to fold his clothes for him forever. I am exhausted almost every minute of the day from the stress of this, and have been getting the same cold back off and on.

Dan is very grumpy and tired, and life in this house is not much fun. Thank God for the cats— they do provide much needed levity.

I swear to God I so understand why older people sometimes say that they are ready to die because living has become such a drag. I know this is depressing for me to write this, but I have to say that I wonder that I might reach my breaking point one day.

But the real truth is that we are doing quite well for now. We just aren’t thinking too far ahead. We are thinking in terms of late May when we go to Michigan. Stuff like that. We also find ourselves fortunate that we have/had good jobs with good health insurance. We are glad that for some reason I changed our health policy to a doctor choice one last summer. We are lucky that we can afford to pay the $10,000 out of pocket that this treatment will cost. We are lucky that we are smart and know how to use our resources such as the Internet. We are VERY fortunate to have many good friends with whom we can do fun things. Fun is way up there on my list these days.

My inspiration comes from reading of the lives of others who have had to endure far worse.
It is important for us to give up the idea that we are entitled to a life of what we call happiness.
From where I stand it appears that the joy is in the moments, and our happiness comes in collecting those moments and using the memory of them to bolster us in times of distress.

I do believe absolutely and totally that we will have many more joyful moments.

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face… we must do that which we think we cannot.
Eleanor Roosevelt

It can be scary. It can be depressing. It can be sad. It can be angry. No Exit. NO EXIT. NO EXIT.

Since Dan was diagnosed, I have felt as though I am dragging a weight around. I mean literally. It seems as though I move more slowly, bump into stuff more often and bruise myself, sleep longer and screw up more.

On Friday night I was getting all dressed up to go to a friend’s party- women only. I love clothes, jewelry, make-up, etc.
Dressing up for me is like playing with my Barbies all over again. I will never stop being a girly girl no matter how old I get.
It is one of MY pleasures in life, and if you are the significant other of a person with cancer, I strongly advise you to indulge yourself in YOUR personal pleasures as often as possible, or you WILL sink with the weight.
This boat named Paula is gonna continue to sail no matter how stormy the sea gets.

I digress…. I stood before my mirror dillydallying with my hair which at this point was shoulder length– choices, choices, choices… Should I do a bun, a topnotch, braids, ponytail, French twist? Screw decisions. There have been too damned many to make lately!

I picked up my shiny 11 inch shears and just cut hunks off. It was minimally scary, but majorly exciting . I just trusted my gut. I have been watching Fran cut my hair for thirty years- hell, I said to myself, I ought to be able to do this myself by now. Man oh man, did it feel good to see all of that hair in the sink. Hunks of it. I went from shoulder length to pixie in five minutes—  and honey, pixies have magic in them. I figure I could use some of that.  Finished  dressing and went out and had a great time. Danced my butt off and lightened some of the load.

You spouses out there, do something to lighten your load, okay. And blame it on Paula.

Today our friend Ron called and asked us both over for dinner. We accepted. I have to get out and need to force myself to go. It will be good to get out, as I have been somewhat of a hermit since I started radiation and need to touch base with some friends. I am resting up now so I won’t fall asleep at dinner. That would be a sight my head resting a bed of salmon and steamed veggies.

Every Wednesday is see the nurse day and after my radiation treatment I go and see my nurse Sheri Davidson. She checks all my vitals and records them along with any side effects that I am having. I like her and she is very good at what she does. I have been having some urinary issues were I have to pee a lot. They had me on Advil at first and have just added Flomax to help with the symptoms. Let’s hope it works.

Thinking back on this issue I may have had this problem for years.

This was pointed out by a good friend Bob Windheuser who also works in the same school system that I work in. I have known Bob for many years and we go to a professional convention together each year. He “pointed out” to me at one point that I must have a bladder the size of a walnut (there’s that word again) because I hit the restroom more than anyone he knew. After this he would laugh each time I had to go. But this got me to thinking and I told my primary doctor about this and this eventually led me to find out I had cancer. For that tip off I recently thanked Bob. Thanks again my friend.

So they are sending me to an Urologist in Tampa and I will be seeing him next week. If it is what they believe it is it can easily be treated with a green light laser and can be done as an out patient.

I guess with all of the things going on, the drive, the antidepressants, the androgen deprivation therapy drugs, the radiation and the rest of my life, I am just plain pooped. It is just the way it is now, but soon this too will pass, and I will go on to the next stage of my treatment. Which is I see the urologist and in about 4 weeks after his procedure is done I can have my seeds implanted. So at max, in about 8 weeks this too will be over and this monkey, hopefully, will be off of my back.

I hope that this is not wishful thinking.

He also seems much quieter than usual, and he happens to be extremely quiet anyway. I don’t know whether he is preoccuppied with his thoughts or if he is so tired he can’t talk. I think he is very depressed. I know when I have just a cold or flu and lack energy I get depressed.

I hope this fatique goes away. He is not laughing much at all and appears to lack enthusiasm.

This is really uncomfortable to observe because it makes the cancer even more real. He is having the side effects of treatment, and  I guess that is why some people choose not to take treatment or not even to know if they are sick until they are close to death.

I keep reminding myself that this malaise is the treatment. I wish he would move about more.
I feel he is fading away, and it makes me feel scared and sad.

I guess what is going on with me is the sheer frustration that this is something I can not figure out and fix.
It is terribly difficult to watch the man you know so well go through this discomfort. He has also been getting hot flashes. I hope that eventually all of this will subside to a more tolerable level.

Maybe Dan will start. I have our bikes in an easily accessible area so maybe he can get his rear end on the seat and pedal a little.

I am concerned with the exercise thing because although I know that this is hard for Dan because he has not been much of an exerciser, I know that there is RARELY a time when I say "Yippee, it’s time to exercise."  It’s one of those things that is good to do like brushing one’s teeth and getting enough rest.

I watch my 80 year old aunt who has congestive heart failure make herself get up and moving every day. We can always do more than we think.

I am not being hard on Dan; it is just that cancer does not thrive well in an enviroment of oxygen. And for his heart and this cancer I see no losing proposition in exercise.  Tough love. That is probably one of my roles.  Oh, who knows!

I am also having some side effects from the radiation besides the fatigue. I have to pee a lot. This is one of the expected side effects and I am on Advil to help reduce the inflammation. I have also been referred to see another urologist for possible treatment of this problem. They believe that I have centrally located benign prostatic hypertrophy (BPH) that is an enlargement on the inside of the prostate gland, not necessarily the whole gland itself being enlarged. This causes narrowing of the urethra and this makes it difficult for me to fully empty my bladder. The treatment involves an outpatient procedure to alleviate the BPH called Green Light Laser and will be done after my radiation but before the seed implants. I more than likely have had this condition for many years and the radiation treatments are now aggravating it.

I know that my fatigue is bothersome to Paula, she thinks I should be out and about exercising. I just don’t have the energy after doing 12 hour days with treatments and work. I did take off a day last week and I will do so again next week. If things get worse I will take more time off. One day at a time, one day at a time. 

Yesterday morning after his radiation treatment, Dan took the day from work since he is starting to get fatiqued from the drive and the treatments. From my reading I have learned that is usually in this third week of radiation that the effects like fatique start to show up.  He picked me up at Dad’s and stayed for a brief visit. My father is totally and absolutely terrified of cancer. There are reasons for this. First, almost everyone is terrified of cancer.  Second, Dad was born in 1928 and in that day the word cancer was not even uttered. Lots of people died of cancer, but family members would not refer to it as such. It was like a plague or something. This is information I have gathered in my reading. I can remember when I was little girl of about five that my great-uncle was dying of cancer and no one would say what he had. They just said that Uncle Eddie didn’t feel good. Third,, my Dad’s wife Joy died three years ago of pancreatic cancer. One day her stomach started to ache. Seven weeks later she was dead. To Dad, cancer means immediate death. This is not Dan’s situation.

So I noticed my Dad checking Dan out out of the corner of his eye while Dan was looking at the tv. Dad had not seen Dan since Christmas, and I know my Dad so well that I totally know he was looking for visible signs of deterioration. As Dan discussed in an early post, a person with cancer does not start looking thin and hollow-eyed like a concentation camp victim until a few weeks before death.You cannot tell by looking at someone.
 My poor Dad is so nervous about this that he doesn’t know what to say or to do. I told him just treat Dan like he always does–  Dad is sort of militaristic as he is a former Marine. As children he liked us  to do our chores around the house as he sang "From the Halls of Montezuma- to the shores of Tripoli." He even had us to march along with him as we worked. He likes people to march to HIS music. So Dad should just go on treating Dan like he does most people. He’s the sergeant; we’re the troops.
In all truth my Dad is a big teddy bear- a big blue-eyed hell of a funny guy who saves stray animals, write love poetry, helps out people who are down and out and is honest as they come. If my Dad shakes your hand with a deal, he means every word.

Poor Daddy. Poor lots of people. They just don’t know that the best thing to do for Dan is talk to him about it. Don’t come to me as though the conversation must occur behind closed doors. I am not his spokesperson. I have already seen many people checking Dan’s appearance out for "signs". Mom said when her lung cancer was diagnosed as terminal that she was now "a monkey in a cage" for everyone to look at. Yecch. I don’t know that if I had a bad disease that I would tell anyone. I mean it.

But back to the drive home yesterday. We needed to stop four times for him to use the bathroom for the 70 mile trip. This is because the radiation is irritating his bladder. I feel so bad for him. He tells me that he does not want my pity, but it is sad. He is my big, tall drink of water husband, and it hurts me to see him have to go through this.

I love you, Dan, and I wish you didn’t have to go through this.

Paula

I started to notice this problem a little this past weekend. But I really got the hint of what was going on when I had to stop 2 times to pee on the way back from Sarasota on Monday. Two bloody times!! In 60 minutes. Then I had to go again when I arrived to work. Geeezzz. Walk down the hall and see another. Bingo I dash in again. You know a school has a bunch of restrooms, yes a bunch of em.

Sleeping is pretty much the same thing. I’m and up four or five times during the night. This is not too bad as I have started to adapt to getting back to sleep fairly quickly. If that doesn’t work I am going to have to hook a hose up. I think I’ll go to Home Depot and get some just in case.

If you are in the far right lane you should be listening to classical music. If you are in the center lane you should be listening to easing listening music or country music. If you find your butt in the left lane and you see me in your mirror you damn well better be listening to Rock and Roll or change lanes.

Before I get to my appointment to be radiated I have to drink an un-godly amount of water so my bladder is “nice and full”. Not a thing you want to have in a moving vehicle, a “nice and full” bladder. So if you find yourself on I-75 and you find some maniac behind you who looks like he has to pee, kindly turn the music up and put the hammer down or get yourself into the country music lane. Please note that in most of Florida there are only 2 to 3 lanes on the major highways and therefore no room for any Rap music lanes. Sorry. If you feel the need to listen to rap music and travel on I-75 in the left lane and you are only going 50 mph you are taking your life in your hands. I don’t care what kind of "Gangsta" you think you are, but you’re dealing with a guy with prostate cancer and he has to PEE. Nuff said? Thought so, because that should be enough to scare anyone.

 People who have cancer are lucky if they die from side effects i.e. pneumonia or sepsis, etc. The unlucky ones are the people who go through the actual wasting that cancer causes in its end stages.

Dan was very scared when he saw my mother as she died of cancer. He usually saw her every few weeks, so her physical deterioration was staggeringly apparent to him.  I was with Mom each day, so I just got used to her deterioration.  My mother died in terrible pain. My stepmother Joy also died of the cancer not side effects. She also died in terrible pain. Both of these women begged in their last days for "someone to help them". I cannot possibly convey the angst that this created in my sister, my father and me. We could only stand by and watch.

Shortly after my mother died, I made a visit to  our veterinarian. He knew of what had been going on with Mom. He shared with me an experience he had the previous day. He told of a man who was dying of cancer who had come to have his beloved dog "put down" because the dog, too, had cancer and was suffering. Dr. Priest said, "You know I could not help but think that the dog is luckier  than its owner."

There is no gentle way to write this post. Death by cancer cannot be sugarcoated.  I am glad that the physician- assisted suicide was upheld in Oregon, but that won’t do nonresidents any good.

I have no religious ideas about suicide.  I consider myself a free agent, and I want the opportunitiy to do with my life as I choose . Several years ago I read Sherwin Nuland’s book  HOW TO DIE. I don’t know if I would choose to kill myself but I damn sure want the option.

I know folks mean well and that they are concerned for me but I guess I find it odd because in my head I feel fine and there are moments when I have to remind my self that I am sick. The only reason I know for sure that I have cancer is a biopsy and a color Doppler scan that had a few red spots on it. I don’t want to feel sick either, it is the last thing on my to do list, the very last thing. In fact when my time really comes I don’t want to feel sick at all, I just want to die quickly and without pain. It is the pain and suffering that scares the crap out of me.

Perhaps it is the collective need to know about scary things in life. I think it is the same reason that people drive slow when they see a horrible accident. We all do it. Did they live or did they die? Will I see the victim or not? Is there blood on the road? He doesn’t look sick. You look good. Before I had cancer I was always too freaked out about it to even ask about how people were doing. I am much stronger now. I will remind myself that I am really in fact sick when the people who care enough to ask do ask.

I remember when we heard the diagnosis. I remember  I felt like we both had been bruised. Our hearts hurt. It was a bruising of the spirit. And I also felt that my body hurt.  It was the death of yet another illusion— the illusion that our little life here would never end.

One of the wonderful parts of a longterm marriage is knowing that there is someone to come home to. We married folks often take this for granted, I think. We often forget how many warm and cozy feelings we get as we are finishing a hard day and approaching our home. Just the idea that someone is waiting for you feels very good and very special.

When I was a girl, I had Mama to come home to. Mom was there, and I knew she  always would be there.

When I was a young woman and lived alone, I missed the experience of knowing that someone was awaiting my arrival.

I am meandering tonight because I am so tired. That was the main point I wanted to make on this post, but I took a bit of a digression.  Stress has made me sooo tired. I never used to sleep past six in the morning. Now I sleep much longer. I have also noticed that I seem to move in slow motion. Things take longer to get done . I have become more forgetful. I am carrying a weight. The cancer is always in the back of my mind.

I need to get back to my weightraining. I need to strengthen my body now more than ever.  I know how much weight training benefits me. I was using up to 20 lb, dumbbells for three years.  Not bad for a girl,

Two weeks ago I dragged myself to Weightwatchers. I have since taken off 4.1 of the 10 pounds I gained over these past months.  I am slowily getting back to some of my good routines.

 Over the years I have learned the importance of being gentle with myself.
I have learned the importance of being a compassionate friend to myself.
I have learned the importance that i must accept that there are many times in life when I will not be able "to keep all the balls in the air at once."

I am a doer. I like to work and to accomplish things each day. I enjoy immersing myself in projects and seeing them through to completion. At present, there are lots of things that are hanging in the air. There are lots of things on that back burner.
Acceptance of what we have is hard at times, but it is absolutely necessary.
Wishing does not make bad stuff go away. We waste our energies in resistance. We free ourselves in acceptance.

So I am  slowly working toward taking better care of myself.

I am not on Dan’s case anymore about what he chooses to eat or drink or do or not do.
Dan is also doing the best he can right now.

He has been wounded. i have been wounded. We are in the licking our wounds phase.

There is a fine line between knowing when to give yourself mercy and knowing when you need to give yourself a kick in the butt.

it is all a balancing act—– life.

Pills. I got a bunch of them. In general getting old sucks and with it comes pills. Use to be that I only had to take pills for my cholesterol but now that I have cancer I have to take a BUNCH more. Funny thing about all of these pills is that I don’t feel bad at all. Never have. Even with my cholesterol I have been chasing numbers on my blood tests for years. My whole family has high cholesterol and my father died of a heart attack. So I have been a good patient and have been tested every six months for my blood lipids. Hell I thought for my whole life that I would die of a heart attack because of my cholesterol. Now I am not so sure. With the drive I have to do everyday to get my radiation a Semi-truck might get me.

Now cancer comes into my life and I almost feel the same with my cancer as I do with my cholesterol. I feel fine. The only thing I have that has proven that I have cancer is another test or two. That is the insidious thing about cancer, is that generally you feel fine until, that is, it’s too late. I don’t want to wait that long so I have more pills now. And the only reason that it is not too late is that my family doctor screened me.

With all of the pills comes confusion. I as I have stated before don’t remember timed events like taking out the garbage on the right day or taking my pills at the right time. I have so many, some once a day, some three times a day, others four times a day. So one of my weekly rituals now is to fill my little pill boxes up with all of the pills I have to take. I have also set my cell phone to beep whenever I need to take another batch of them. Gota go my cell phone is beeping….

I would challenge you to ask yourself, if you are a man, or a man in your life; " What does your prostate do? And where is it located? How big is it? " I think it might amaze you how little folks know about it. According to Wikipedia it is:

"The prostate is an exocrine gland of the male mammalian reproductive system. Its main function is to secrete and store a clear, slightly basic fluid that constitutes up to one-third of the volume of semen. The prostate differs considerably between species anatomically, chemically, and physiologically. A healthy human prostate is slightly larger than a walnut. It surrounds the urethra just below the urinary bladder. It is located in front of the rectum and can be felt during a rectal exam."

Ohhh it is "Down there". Felt during a "rectal exam"? No wonder men have an aversion to getting an exam. Let me tell you here and now, it ain’t THAT bad. Every doctor I have come across in my "little adventure" has wanted to either stick a digit or some other type of object up "down there". You know what guys it doesn’t make you gay, not even close. It saves your life. So get over it and get checked out and learn more about your little "walnut"

The graphics in this post came from a wonderful site called Mansgland that is also trying to educate men about their prostate. Stop by the site and have a look.

As far as my prostate being compared to a walnut, well that will have to wait for another rant.

When I was twenty-one, I became more afraid. By then I had joined the ranks of the nine to fivers. I was afraid of becoming T.S. Eliot’s Prufrock and living a life “measured out with coffee spoons”.

When I was twenty-seven, I quit my job and moved to San Francisco. I sat with a purple book called BE HERE NOW , and I struggled to intergrate its message. I was trying to reach nirvana via a book.

When I was thirty-four, my fear had turned to terror. By then I had returned to Florida and to teaching. But  I kept feeling that there was something else I should be doing like Thoreau did when he went to the woods because he “wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life”. I quit my teaching job again. I had twenty-five dollars to my name. I thought that was the answer.

When I was thirty-five, I was starting to learn the pleasures of acceptance and gratiude. I had returned to my teaching work. I had come to feel that I was living deep. I was learning the joys of “chopping wood and carrying water.”

When I was thirty-nine, my mother died an ugly death from cancer.  During the months that it took her to die, I sat with my mother, and we talked about everything. During those months  I often yearned for the life measured out with coffee spoons. 

When I was somewhere in my forties, I forgot most of what I had learned. I was back into believing that BETTER was just around the next corner.  My forties were mostly about forgetting.

Now I am fifty-four. My husband’s cancer diagnosis floods me with how fast twenty-five years has passed. Each evening I fill up the coffeemaker with five tablespoons of coffee for the next morning.

Each morning I am grateful to still be alive and to be able to drink my coffee.
I am grateful to be strong enough to carry the proverbial water and chop the proverbial wood.

I do not need to go to  a Walden Pond to suck any marrow.
My woods are here.

It’s just that I keep forgetting what I know to be true.
I am coming to a place of accepting that I will keep forgetting.

The Grace is in the remembering.

May I end with an excerpt from probably my favorite short story “A Christmas Memory” by Truman Capote

"My, how foolish I am!" my friend cries, suddenly alert, like a woman remembering too late she has biscuits in the oven. "You know what I’ve always thought?" she asks in a tone of discovery and not smiling at me but a point beyond. "I’ve always thought a body would have to be sick and dying before they saw the Lord. And I imagined that when he came it would be like looking at the Baptist window: pretty as colored glass with the sun pouring through, such a shine you don’t know it’s getting dark. And it’s been a comfort: to think of that shine taking away all the spooky feeling. But I’ll wager it never happens. I’ll wager at the very end a body realizes the Lord has already shown Himself. That things as they are"—her hand circles in a gesture that gathers clouds and kites and grass and Queenie pawing earth over her bone—"just what they’ve always seen, was seeing Him. As for me, I could leave the world with today in my eyes."

Add my first year of retirement to the mix, which is fraught with marital tension due to the severe deficit in our income brought on because of my retirement.  Add a “friend” of almost thirty years who threatens to sue us for slipping on our sidewalk during a hurricane. Throw in a dose of marriage counseling because we are fighting too much.

Now add a good ole dose of Prostate Cancer.

We sit down to a meal of  lukewarm grief, anger still sizzling from the grill and high anxiety for dessert.

Marriage is hard. Most don’t make it. I read yesterday that 60% end in divorce.
We are still in counseling. We were making some real headway. That was in August.
Cancer came to visit in October.

Dan is stressed to the max. I am stressed to the max. I used to be shocked when I would hear about couples divorcing after experiencing a big loss. In my naiveté I thought that a big loss would bring them closer. Now I understand. Sometimes it makes you closer and other times you feel like you just want to get away from anyone or anything that reminds you of what you would rather not think about.

I am trying so hard to be there for my husband, but I keep making mistakes. I’ve never been married to someone with cancer before. This is all uncharted territory.
I think I know what he needs. He says I hover. Hell, I don’t know what he needs.

I know what I need. I want to lie in bed for one month with my books and cats and play pretend. I want my mother to come back from the dead and tuck me in and tell me that everything will be all right. I want to not be fifty-four with my friends dying left and right. Yes. Left and right. Four of my women friends dropped dead suddenly within the past eighteen months– heart attacks and strokes.
I want to be fourteen years old again on my purple English racer, wind at my back, riding home for dinner with Mama. I want someone to cook dinner for me and tell me to get into my flannel nightie and sleep tight ‘til the bedbugs bite.

I want the big grown-up problem to go away and come back another rainy day.
But they will not.

I want to run away, but I cannot, and I will not. Getting old SUCKS!
Disease SUCKS! Sometimes life SUCKS.. Tonight almost everything Sucks except my precious Patty calico baby cat.

I am trying to keep my mouth shut. I am trying to bite my tongue. I am trying not to be overly solicitous toward Dan.

I am trying hard to be a good wife. Anyone got a manual on how to be a good wife to a man with cancer when you are both freaking out and worried about all your dreams going down the tube?  You are worried about people deserting you because cancer isn’t fun to be around. You are worried about being a young widow. You worry about your husband dying before he enjoys the reap of all of our real estate investments,  and you fear you will end up with a pile of money but not the husband who worked so hard for it. You worry about EVERYTHING.

It’s hard tonight as I write.

Come Hell or High Water Dan and I will be in the 40% who do NOT divorce. I am tenacious as hell about figuring stuff out. And I don’t leave the kitchen just because it is getting hot. It’s just that we are both hard to live with at the moment. Cancer WILL NOT take our marriage.

We Can Work It Out
The Beatles

Try to see it my way
Do I have to keep on talking till I can’t go on
While you see it your way
Run the risk of knowing
that our love may soon be gone

We can work it out
We can work it out
Think of what you’re saying
You can get it wrong
And still you think that it’s all right

Think of what I’m saying
We can work it out
and get it straight or say goodnight

We can work it out
We can work it out

Life is very short
and there’s no time
for fussing and fighting,my friend

I have always thought
that it’s a crime
So I will ask you once again

Try to see it my way
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong
While you see it your way
There’s a chance that we might fall apart
Before too long

We can work it out…

The first to find us was Cary Miller at Cancer NewsWatch who organizes the blog carnival Real Cancer Real Lives. I didn’t even know at the time there was such a thing. We were featured in the 8th one that was hosted at Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy. Very quickly Trish at Blogging for a Cause picked up on this blog. Also a number of folks have added us to their blogrolls, not to mention the many folks who have left wonderful comments. Thanks.

Just today we were added to the Tampa Tribune’s blog watch. And some kind words from "…Because everyone else has one", where they said:

I am proud to say that …BEEHO is now the 25th blog listed on the Tampa Tribune’s opinion page Bay Area Blog Watch. I’m right below the startlingly honest Any day above ground is a good one. Quite a step between 24 and 25.

And I thought I was holding back. Thanks again to everyone including our many readers. I am grateful.

I know that you think I hover over you too much. I am sorry, but it is just that I want to be of help. Please drive carefully, enjoy your Ipod tunes, and PLEASE take days off from work if you need them.

I love you very much. You are my best friend in the whole wide world.

Love,

Paula

I am anxious to get going with this part of my treatment. So far I have been on androgen deprivation therapy and that consists of me taking 2 drugs everyday. Some how in my head that doesn’t seem like much and I have been anticipating this part of the treatment as it seems like a more active treatment.

I have been doing lots of googling to find out about how spouses whose mates have cancer react. Here are a few quotes:

“In fact, the well spouse sometimes feels more distress than the sick one, who at least can throw his or her efforts into survival.”

“The spouse with cancer often has some level of denial, which is probably a healthy coping mechanism. The healthy spouse even may be more emotionally affected, something that Henson said has nothing to do with gender.”

”Female care givers of men with cancer actually reported more distress than their husbands. One reason for that, Northouse said, is that when husbands become care givers, they are often seen as heroes doing more than society expects. Nobody brings casseroles to women when their husbands are sick because people assume a woman can do the caretaking, that she’s a natural care giver. But women need help, too.'’

“The bottom line is that when life-threatening disease strikes, the marriage needs attention as well as the disease itself. It’s very easy for people to put all the attention on the treatment. But some attention should be spared to focus on the couple.'’

I personally have been having a hard time. Sometimes I find myself pretending that Dan irritates me so much that I might be better off without him. I know this sounds awful, but I am too old to play pretend. I think that I might be doing this type of thinking, so that if I lose him I can convince myself that I won’t hurt as much.

You know our minds can really do trips on us. We have the ability to convolute anything to any reality we want.

Right now sometimes I forget what Dan is going through. Yes, that is so. It may seem odd. Do remember that with prostate cancer diagnosed relatively early that the man looks and feels fine. In fact, the majority of men have every reason to expect to live a good ten or fifteen years or even much longer since this cancer (in most cases) is very treatable. Of course, there is always the chance of that errant cell which may have escaped. Only time will reveal that.

So I forget the heaviness in Dan’s head. Lately, he has been spending the majority of his time sitting in bed eating junky food, drinking beer and watching the tube. This agitates me. I guess I am thinking that if I were him I’d want to be out “sucking the marrow out of life”, but then I remember how much bedtime and food I needed after Mama died.

We’ve been getting into a lot of fights lately. He gets very angry and tells me that I am trying to rule his time. I keep thinking that I know what is best for him, but that’s just my idea. I am afraid. I feel helpless.

I do best when I focus on my own life. I have tons of hobbies, friends and an online business. My life is never boring. I guess that during this period even though I feel that Dan and I should be hanging out together joined at the hip, the reality is that he needs lots of time alone to assimilate.

It’s hard.

Don’t get me wrong I am not complaining, as this was a total choice on my part. I could have easily gone to Moffit and that would have had little effect on my schedule at all. I choose to go to the best Doctors in my area and this happens to be Dr. Dattoli and Dr. Sorace. They are hands down the best.

I say this because today again I was greatly impressed with the care and treatment that I receive during my preparation for my IMRT sessions. I have NEVER had such good treatment from ANY doctor in my life as I have received so far. They are professional in every aspect of the operation of the Dattoli Center. Every detail of what they do is thoroughly thought out, from their first contact with the patient, to their offices, to their web site, to all of the information that they give you and talk to you about. And this is not even close to describing all of the detail they have thought about.

The procedure today involved a CAT scan with contrast so Dr. Sorace can plan my radiation treatments. I was told by the tech that they would be making a mold for my feet to be placed in and that I would have to disrobe BUT I had to keep my shoes and socks on. HUH? I also have to wear the same shoes for every day of the treatment. He told me that this was because my feet would stay in place better with my shoes on. I also had to have a catheter inserted for the contrast fluid to be injected into my bladder, a first for me. This was also unexpected and I was a little freaked at first but it did not hurt at all. I also received three small tattoos so they can position me in the same way for my following treatments. Then I had the CAT scan, which took all of about 5 minutes.

Now I get to the cool part…. After the CAT scan the tech told me to go to the restroom where I could clean up after the procedure. Once in the restroom I was amazed to find the coolest toilet I have ever seen or should I say the Da-toto. It was somewhat like a bidet but this one had two wash cycles and one dry cycle. I was worried that there might be a spin cycle. Wouldn’t want to get anything tangled up.

After I was done, thoroughly washed and air dried, I had a meeting with Sherri Davidson, who went over my medial history again. She also told me what to expect from the radiation treatments and gave me my prescriptions that I would need for the radiation treatment. After she was done I had a meeting with Elizabeth “Bets” Burrell who is with the , the education arm of the practice. She talked to me for about 20 minutes or so to let me know what they have aDattoli Cancer Foundationvailable for the support and education of their prostate cancer patients. I was impressed with her and everything she talked to me about. She also gave me a HUGE portfolio with three books and loads of information regarding what to expect during my treatment. This also included a section of any of the meds I might have to take and a description of what they were for and what side effects they might have. All of this was written in laymen’s English. Very, very impressive.

Since D’s diagnosis I have experienced every possible emotion you can name: fear, sadness, anger, guilt, regret, frustration, anxiety, — all of them.

Now that I have put this out for anyone to see, there is no sense pretending that I am Miss Goody Two Shoes Selfless Loving Wife. My anger stems from not loving myself enough. My anger stems from realizing for the umteenth time that my self-esteem is low and that I do not have to prove to myself that I am worthy by trying to act like a saint.

I am just me. Doing the best I can.

I am sure that this is rooted in my childhood. My mother was overly dependent on me– much more than a parent should be on a child. She expected me to "fill her up" and "give her life purpose". I recall that even when I was just eight years old that I was often asked to stay home from school to "cheer Mama up".

As old as I am (fifty-four), it never dawned on me how responsible I feel for others. I am giving this up.
It does me no good, and it only creates dependency in others. I am tired of being Big Sister Paula to so many. I need someone to lean on too sometimes.

I have wanted to step inside Dan’s brain and soothe him. I have wanted to inspire him to eat well and exercise. In other words, I have tried to impose the things that make me feel good on him.

This behavior is bad for the both of us. Last evening was simply a concrete reminder. I dragged myself to Weight Watchers yesterday. Two years ago I lost over thirty pounds. I have gained ten of that back since the cancer entered our lives.

This is unacceptable. Losing the weight was a battle for me. I fought hard and won. My problem with weight began when my mother was dying of lung cancer, and I was her caregiver. I carried that layer of blubber for ten years. I got it off. I retired from my teaching job, which was becoming an albatross around my neck, and I was really beginning to feel "younger than springtime".

We all have our ways of trying to suppress painful emotions. I eat candy- lots of it specifically jellybeans and those gummy sugar-covered orange slices.

The weight will come off. My focusing too much on another’s life (even if it is my husband) is being downsized, and I need to take care of myself.

Today I feel myself coming down with the same cold that has been in my system since October. I have literally made myself sick over this situation. My own immune system is compromised.

I guess the message here is that we will always have pain in our lives. There will always be situations that will make us feel the need to put our own needs aside for another. We must have internal limits. It is important to remind ourselves that we are individuals who have our own lives. Balance must be achieved in terms of how much we sacrifice our own well being for others.

When someone on our staff has a challenge in their life, be it health, financial, or the new baby of the year, someone is asking you about it. I can’t tell you how many people have told me that I am in their prayers and I can’t tell you how much that means to me. It is a comfort.

I can’t even think about how it would be if I also have a hostile work environment or had to worry about loosing my job or home because I got sick. I feel fortunate for what I have, a good stable job with health benefits. But I worry about folks that don’t have insurance or are in a situation where they loose their job because they are sick. It is not right and it makes me angry that our society can’t get it together to make sure that people have this basic need fulfilled.

Last night we had our annual New Year’s Eve party. There has been so much going on with my cancer, seeing yet another doctor, another test, etc., we didn’t plan our party as we usually do. With an invitation, a RSVP, with the knowledge who was coming we would prepare our house for the event. This year we started late with this process, only two weeks ago. At first we didn’t even consider it, wasn’t even on the radar. I was only thinking about today, now, the next step in the series of tests and doctor’s appointments. I wasn’t seeing my friends much. I had my plate full, work, obsessing on knowing more about this cancer, obsessing on this blog which has bolstered and strengthened me, and doing the everyday things in life that you do. This needed to change, I needed more fun and didn’t know it.

It wasn’t until we went to the University of Tampa to see the Victorian Christmas trees that Paula and I decided to have our party. We needed more fun; we needed to connect to our friends again. After all this was our annual gift to our friends. Gift you say? Yes, the gift of friendship, companionship, pure hysterical fun, dancing and LOTS of food. Living in the moment, eating, talking, dancing, and being with your friends of years and days. Last night I had all of these things; you see the gift I give to our friends every year is really also a gift to myself. Friends, Family, Food and Fun. I like this gift. I want another.

The Beatles said it all…. “All you need is Love”. That’s all. Nothing else.

In this culture we agree to agree that 365 days make one year. Dan’s diagnosis has brought up a lot of thoughts about time. Thinking about time in terms of years can be scary. It is becoming more about moments now. It has to. Several people came up to me at our party and asked how Dan and I are doing. I said that we are doing okay. I said that there is not a choice right now but to be here and make the most of it.

The best advice I got about dealing with a diagnosis of a bad disease was from my sister Melanie. Melanie was diagnosed with breast cancer almost seven years ago. Here is what she advised Dan and me: "You learn to keep your life as "normal" as possible. Everything is still the same. It’s just that now you have some information that most other people do not. And you have more medical appointments to attend." She talked of how she would drive to get radiated early in the morning, go to her teaching job, come home and do her home and social life as usual. It’s that paradox you probably have heard about that so much changes yet remains the same.

It’s sort of surreal at times. For me that comes and goes now. I don’t know how it is for Dan. Maybe he will tell us. It’s like there is this other world now that we were not in before. I sense this, and I have not been diagnosed with cancer.

Last night as Dan and I awaited the first guests I said that we need to start celebrating more. I said that we don’t have to majorly clean the house and get the whole scene laid out with great music, good food and dress-up clothes to have a party. I said to Dan that the party is right here in this house all of the time with just him and me and Ginger, Patty, and Pj our dog and cats. I would like us to start making some changes. Like less television and more listening to music. Like less same weekday evening routine and more variety. Like more new things. All of this takes time, effort and strong intention to establish. It seems the best thing now is to give ourselves mercy for what we might be thinking we are not doing as well as we could. Change takes one step forward and two steps backwards. It is the movement that counts, I guess.

 Dan’s got a big month or so coming up. Twenty-three days of radiation then a one day overnight surgery for the seed implants sometime in February. He will have to drive three hours round trip for his radiation each day Monday-Friday. I need to think about how I can best help him. I think by keeping things nice and normal and happy here in our home. I am going to line up several good distraction Dvd’s on Netflix– comedy, adventure, sci-fi- that’s the stuff he likes. And we will eat good fresh meals. He will get through this. One step at a time.

Everyone is rooting for you, Dan. It’s always good to have a cheering section, so any of you who read this maybe you can write him ever so often. Or give a call. Or invite us to do something fun.

As for me I am working hard to not think of the 8,640 seconds in a day or the three million some seconds in a year. I am aiming to live in spans shorter than seconds. The technique known as Conscious Connected Breathing aka ReBirthing helps me to do this. You always feel safe and connected if you focus on your breath as you go about the business of your life. It is important to study this with an expert.

I had a very good teacher. And I must emphasize here that I am NOT taken in easily. Her name is Franceen King. She was my breath coach for many years. Learning how to "rebirth" myself is the best thing I ever did for myself. I really mean that. It taught me how to feel safe in the presence of any emotion. Any Emotion.

 Franceen lives here in Tampa. Her life’s work has been the exploration of consciousness. She is a licensed mental health therapist, an ordained minister and a regular seminar leader at the Monroe Institue in Virginia. You might want to check out her website. She is for real. She is not airy fairy. Trust me, I am not easily convinced. I am not easily impressed.

 Kurt Vonnegut said once  that we all need built-in crap detectators to survive modern life. There are a lot of "crazies" out there who call themselves "healers". By the way, Franceen does not call herself a healer. She is just Franceen- a real woman in her fifties who has a lot to share in terms of helping one grow in confidence and strength. Franceen is the real thing. Here is her site:

 We can all use as many survival tools in our bag as possible. Once you own this you will not lose it.

 Mom also loved to dance, and she and my sister and I spent many a happy moment bopping and twisting around the living room to the hi-fi. Tonight is our almost annual New Year’s Eve Party. Dan and I have been working for two days on it. We used to get into horrible little fights off and on during the process. He thought I was too obsessive with the nice details and I thought he was too unconcerned with the prettiness that I have always created in our parties. Today we had a few very minor tiffs. We are learning (and it is not easy) to live our moments- one by one.

Our house is beautiful this evening as we await our guests. Candles inside and out, blue lights in the front yard and on our back porch and deck. The elephant ears and the ginger are still soo green. Our midcentury decor which has all been handpicked dirt cheap at yard sales over the past twenty years looks fabulous. Each object has a memory. We made this house us.

 Our parties are always good, for we are blessed with wonderful friends–all different types of people who laugh and dance and read books and care about things like animals and the environment. I am so thankful for them. They will be here tonight. We will eat and chat and eat and chat and then the dancing will start. Dan and I will move our 1950’s purple curved couch to the side. Something like "Purple Haze" or T Rex or a silly disco song plays. And we get crazy and silly and sweaty. The airconditioning must be set very low even if it is cold outside which it is not tonight.

I love Dan. I love our friends. I love music. I love cats and kittens. I love gardening. I love books. Oh, there is soooo much for which to be grateful. The best thing about our friends is that they are sticking with us. Right from the get go Dan and I decided that we were going to talk about this cancer situation like someone else might talk about their kids or their job. No connection intended. Hee. Hee. We have lost many friends to Aids already. So our group of folks is real about stuff. I want nothing but real in my life. The best to you, dear reader, in 2006.

Telling your story is one type of activism there are many others. I just read the article, Cancer vs. Kosovo by Steve Corman over at PSA-Rising. I was shocked that the funding for Prostate Cancer was so low as compared to breast cancer. These stats are from 1998 and I am trying to find some newer ones. My point is that the squeaky wheel gets oiled when dealing with funding for research from the Federal Government and this requires activism on our part. Write your legislators. Complain. Demand action.

I am trying to keep the tone and tenor of this blog to our personal feelings, which amounts to observations and our whims about the whole cancer experience. This will included a rant from me from time to time when I feel I need to. In no way do I expect to be the new cancer news blog as there are many fine blogs in that category. Mainly what I would like my readers to do is talk about this cancer with EVERY man you know. BUT DO SOMETHING!! Talk about it, get tested, inform others, donate money, write your leaders, just do something. But don’t be scared by prostate cancer, don’t be embarrassed by it, don’t be paralyzed by it. Get help for yourself; get all the knowledge about the topic you can obtain, most importantly TALK about it.

I now know how to behave in His presence. Oh, if I had only known sooner– the fights that may have been avoided.

Wait until he finds out who I really am. It is indeed going to blow his mind.

Any guesses?

This Christmas I received many gifts as I always do, but the most important gift was the time I have spent with friends and family. But two gifts of note were from my sister-in-law Mel and my friend of many years Sue. My friend Sue, who grew up Catholic, makes hats and for a while there she was on a jag where she was making Pope hats. I got one. That and along with the wonderful robe that looks amazingly like vestments, that Mel gave me, I am now the Pope of my prostate. I have tried a few things. I have tried a couple of blessings and I have laid my hands upon my prostate. I tried to do a couple of miracles. Nothing seemed to happen. I go to the doctor next week, perhaps he can tell me if it worked.

Pope of Prostate

I am happiest when I am not thinking. My thoughts get me in trouble with myself. My mouth gets me in trouble with others when I express those thoughts. So I need to practice just letting the thoughts pass through my brain without giving much credence to them.

I wonder if our insurance covers prefrontal lobotomies. That would help cut down on the thinking a bit.

Seriously, tonight I am happy. For me it is best to be totally engaged in the moments. To listen. To see. To smell. To taste. To feel. Be with the all of any moment. And just keeping breathing and taking it in and letting it out.

Christmas Eve. A panorama of gift wrapping- kitties running through silver ribbons and rolling in blue and purple gift wrap- Dad in the new blue cashmere that matches his eyes- Dad, Dan and I attend a buffet at our longtime friend Sue’s 1920’s lavender bungalow- homemade white bean and spinach soup- hearty brown thick bread- brandy and eggnog- and Sue’s sweet home is a dancing vision of color and design = and we all sit together for a dinner- eight of us- Sue’s mother and father from Alabama and her sister from San Francisco, Dad, Dan and me and a beautiful lady of eighty dressed headed to toe in lilac- and on her way to another party this evening to boot!

The eight of us came to that table to enjoy the moments. I know that each one of us there could tell more than a story or two of grief, but what is good is that we all showed up.

I continue to believe what young Anne Frank wrote in her little red and white cloth diary:

“In spite of everything, I still believe that people are good at heart.”

And yes, I do believe this. Thirty-two years of teaching teenagers made me know that THIS IS TRUE. I refuse to believe that any human being is intrinsically bad.

Tonight there is gratitude in my heart. Tonight there is joy in my heart. Tonight there is renewal in my heart.

I wish you, dear reader, the best of all in this coming year of 2006
May you live your moments fully.

Christmas is tomorrow. I’ll try not to think.

There is only To Be.

All I want for Christmas is my prostate fix
My prostate fixed, see my prostate is fixed.
Gee, if I could only have my prostate fixed
Then I could wish you "Merry Christmas."

It seems so long since I could say,
"Sister Susie sitting on a thistle."
Gosh, oh gee, how happy I’d be
If I could only piddle.

All I want for Christmas is my prostate fixed
My prostate fixed, see my prostate is fixed.
Gee, if I could only have my prostate fixed
Then I could wish you "Merry Christmas."

Merry Christmas to all and we will see you in a couple of days. Please contribute to the Prostate Cancer Foundation and you will get some cool arm bands.  Hand them out to your friends for me. Please tell them to get checked by their doctors. Also if you have a minute add yourself to our Frapr map.

So why am I mad at her? Well I have always been under the impression that dogs were man’s best friends. By my definition that would mean that she would do anything for me. Well that is hardly true. She still will not go to the fridge and get me a beer. I ask her all of the time and she just sits there and looks at me.

Then she goes and gets her Frisbee. Does that mean she doesn’t care, is she self-centered? I would really like a beer though.

I ask her all of the time not to get in the lake. But does she listen to me? NO!

When I am outside she bugs the crap out of me with her Frisbee. Even when I say NO. Well there is always the stick.

She insists on going on car rides with me along with her friend and gives me no money for gas or anything. She just sits there and talks with her friend.

But what I am really pissed about is that she didn’t detect my Prostate Cancer. Other dogs do it. In fact MANY dogs do it. Cocker spaniels do it. They even have a Poodle in on the action. They detect all kinds of cancer, prostate cancer, bladder cancer and kidney cancer. But noooo, not my dog. Why can’t my dog be more like the other dogs?

We are going to have to change our training program. Sniff here Ginger, sniff here…… Good dog…… Oh my God there is a dog in my pants!!

I haven’t posted since last Thursday, partly because of holiday activities, but mainly because of statistics. My mind has been swimming in confusing stats. Some say that only 13% of prostate cancer ends with death. Others say more. So where am I? It also depends on a lot of factors where you land in the statistics themselves. What your PSA is. What your Gleason score is. What your stage is. And when you start plugging in all of those factors your head starts to spin. Half the time you can see yourself in the group that “MADE IT” and then you see another study and suddenly it doesn’t look so good. That is where I have been, in the half empty cup. I don’t generaly worry, perhaps it is the dancer.

The reason why doesn’t really matter. I am certain it is a combo of some of the following: He has cancer. He is on a myriad of drugs. It is the holiday season, and perhaps the contrast of the carnival gaiety with the heaviness in his brain is just too damned much. Ya Dee Ya Dee Yada.

So I want to help him. I have become very aware during this that I have a strong tendency to want to help people fix things. This has really been surfacing since I retired from teaching. Although I absolutely adored most of my students, the job was often emotionally draining. So basically I was often tapped out on playing Big Momma Fix-It Lady in my personal life. But, of course, that was all before my husband got cancer, so the stuff I just said might not have a damned thing to do with it. All aside, I want to help Dan feel better in his head.

I know for a fact from my own experience that daily strenuous exercise lifts my spirits, gives me tons more energy and yes, is good for my body. Plus it is fact that cancer is anaerobic and does not like oxygen. So see I want Dan to exercise, but he is not interested. He gets mad when I bring it up. This is very hard right now. I am feeling frustrated and pissed.

I live with Dan. We are intricately connected in so many ways. It is HARD AS HELL to step back and watch. How would I react if I got a cancer diagnosis?

Am I being Big Momma Fix-It Lady or am I just a normal caring wife? I really think it is the latter. He says not.

How much of my business is this cancer?

Hard Call.

Dan thought his statistics were “better” and then after reviewing some articles he perceived things differently and got afraid.

Again, it is important to see statistics for what they are. Just data. Not necessarily Dan’s data, but data nevertheless. It is better for us to keep things as light as possible when we can. There are some times when we cannot.

The totally best thing about this blog for me is that Dan and I harbor no secrets about what is going on in our heads with all of this cancer stuff. Back in September when we first got wind of what might be coming down, I was working so hard to be casual and upbeat . That is not my true nature. Dan knew that. You can’t be what you aren’t. We can’t stop being real with one another because of fear.

Last evening was a good one. We dressed up and went to a little party given by one of our very good friends. It was on the veranda of an historic hotel in Tampa. The food and decorations were good, but the conversation was much better. It was real. It was deep. Many of the folks there were people that Dan and I have been friends with for over twenty years or so.

One man just passed his sixth year out after prostate cancer treatment. Two men have been HIV positive for many years now, and look and feel great. Each person among that group could tell a story or two or three or more of loss— this is part of the package of getting to this age that we are- this late 1940’s/early 1950’s baby boom generation that we are– time is catching up, but we are still showing up. More importantly, we are still dancing.

We decided to go ahead and do our traditional New Year’s Eve dance party here at home. When I mentioned it, E. said that she thought we might not because of what has been going on with Dan. I had been thinking that way too, but then it became totally clear that the worst thing to do would be to NOT have our party. Why not? Oh my. The healing balm of like-minded friends.

On the drive to the party we discussed that we needed to make some changes and to plan more fun into our lives. So far we have been doing quite well. We just need to do this with greater frequency.

On our way home we had a hankering for something sweet. We pulled into the Farm Store and got a container of HEAVENLY HASH ice cream. We got in bed with our kitties, ate ice cream and watched the late shows.

Things feel safe in bed at home with our pets and our stuff.

My mom had often said that when some one gets sick that people don’t want to be around them. So when we got the News I wondered about that. Do you remember that old television commercial where there are a bunch of bad little roaches playing in a kitchen? Then a big Raid Man Can comes in and the roaches yell, “RAID”. Well, I was hoping it wasn’t gonna be that way with the cancer. Oh yes, some will drop off, but by this stage in our lives, we have pretty much shed those already.

I get tears in my eyes as I think of the kindness and light in the eyes of our friends.
They are so dear to me.