Prostsate cancer. The Big C. Unlike my previous reflections on various topics, this one is personal. A time comes in everyone’s life when they’re forced to evaluate themselves and what they’ve done up to that point. Unfortunately, my time has come sooner rather than later. Why? Because I have prostate cancer.
What is Prostate Cancer?
For those who don’t know, prostate cancer is a growth of cells that starts in the prostate, a small gland found just below the bladder that helps make the fluid part of semen. According to the Mayo Clinic website, prostate cancer is “usually found early, and it often grows slowly. Most people with prostate cancer are cured.”
No Worries?
So, nothing much to worry about, right? It’s something that happens to old men like my Dad when he contracted it at age 78. But, I’m going to turn 78 in a few weeks. That’s one parallel I could do without. Another is that like him, I contracted it early and stand a good chance of beating the 98 per cent survival rate after five years.
Still, it makes you wonder. What if I’m in the unlucky two per cent? I had cataract surgery on my left eye six years ago which supposed to be a snap and highly successful, but my vision in that eye still remains impaired.
Which leads back to negative outcomes, however rate they’re supposed to be statistically. It’s not as if I haven’t lived a full life up to now. Oh, sure, there have been some regrets, some things I may have done differently given the chance. But, all in all, my life has been fulfilling up to now.
Absurdity of Prostate Cancer
What bothers me is the general absurdity of my condition. One day you’re playing by all the rules–exercising, watcing your diet, being considerate to others–and the next? An upward blip on an annual exam that many medical experts advise people my age not to take dictates taking an MRI scan. That exam reveals a tiny blot on one side of my prostate.
The Verdict
The spot appears small, to be sure. But, all my father’s brothers contracted the disease as well (Thanks, paternal male genes). These facts combined resulted in this medical sentence: a five-day-a-week, five-week regimen of consuming two ten-ounce glasses of water, driving across town, and holding that amount sloshing around in an already suspect bladder until the radiation pistol the tech calls a linear accelerator (LINAC) peppers that damn’ed spot with X-rays for ten minutes. Every day, same time, same routine with weekends off to recover for the next round.
Beyond Procedure
The absurdity of my condtion goes beyond the indignity of procedure, though there’s plenty of that. If some well-intentioned people make their liviings shooting invisible rays at a microscopic target somewhere in the nether regions between my sphincter and bladder, so be it. Who am I to denounce the technological improvements of modern medical research and treatment?
Nevertheless, after all this medical effor, my chances of surviving this malediction aren’t much better than if I had waited for the results of a second exam. Much like taking a nightly atorvistatin tablet to lower my cholesterol count, it makes statistical sense to play safe and go through the radiation procedure. Yet, like my atorvistatin regimen, I see no visible results. I witness no discernible improvement in my physical well-being. Mentally, I feel I’ve made the right, logical decision, but–
Prostate Cancer: Social Outcomes
It’s at this point where the social absurdity comes into play. Certain people (relatives, friends, acquzintances) including medical advertisers in particular, praise your fortitude, your bravery in facing up to and conquering an elusive, albeit lethat foe. Others sympathize with your having to face the challenge for roughly the same reasons.
But undergoing cancer therapy of any kind is not a challenge. There’s little heroic in doing it. In terms of heroism, it’s no more heroic than it is to drink water, ingest food, or breathe air. It’s simply the consequence of continuing to live until the pain and sorrow of doing so outweigh the joy of staying alive.
In Conclusion
Each person must weigh that decision for themselves. Many may encounter few life-or-death situations during their lives. Others may experience more than their share. Most of us will put off that decision until the time comes and it can’t be circumvented any more. To be honest, my outlook might be less sanguine if the cancer were more aggressive. Whatever the case, don’t consider my reaction heroic or cowardly, cynical or fatalistic. In my view, there’s little to celebrate or discuss other than to go through it, examine the results, and determine your next course of action.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to live as I have up to now, quietly experiencing the joys and tribulations of life common to most individuals. Hopefully, I’ll do it with a little more appreciation and humility than before. We’ll see.
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