February

I was first diagnosed with prostate cancer in January 2013. It was slow growing so we had time to choose a treatment plan and opted for a naturopath in the Denver, CO area. We packed our juicer and hopped on a plane for 3 weeks of rather intense disruption to my (then) lifestyle choices. Basically, lots of grilled meats, rich sauces, sugary drinks, desserts and junk food or as my partner calls it, a typical American diet. I was overweight but gave little thought as I didn’t drink alcohol (still don’t) or use drugs (I started smoking weed again in 2018 when my f-in-l died, I miss him every day) and I rode my bike 100 miles a week, swam, ran and participated in triathlons and half-marathons. Fortunately, I was cancer-free that intervention produced weight loss and a moderate improvement in eating habits. The stress was still there, as was much of the old mind set.

In January 2023 my PSA was elevated and creeping higher. My urologist (at the time) was telling me that active surveillance (monitor and wait) remained an option. That advice nearly killed me as I delayed conventional medical treatment until July of that year. My urologist (at the time) moved her practice, so I had to find a new doctor.

When my new doctor saw the results of my bloodwork, she had a few choice comments for my previous doc and scheduled for an immediate removal of my prostate. We arranged for a CT/PET scan and the results were sobering; the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes. The new doc was freaked out by the scan results and had trouble communicating effectively at our appointment. Basically, we left with no referrals for treatment and from her conversation, I thought I was going to die within the next couple of years. So, shit got real in a hurry.

We retired immediately, both from long-tenured jobs that we enjoyed (I still had 1.5 years until my planned retirement) and we lived off savings until Dec 2025 when I qualified for Medicare, SS and could draw my state retirement without penalty.

Back to the diagnosis, we cold-called Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center and I burst into tears when they said they could help, even without a referral. They set up appointments and for the next six weeks, while waiting to meet the first doctor on my new care team, I was still thinking I had a couple years left until my “pull date”, so I’d better make the best of it.

We took the time to get closer than we’d ever been. It was terrifying and magical at the same time. I’m not saying that I’d like to relive those moments, but I am grateful that we took advantage of the situation.

I don’t sleep a lot these days, not that I ever did. I get up 3-4 times each night to pee. The hormone deprivation treatment comes with its own bag of tricks: insomnia, hot flashes, headaches, body aches, low energy, and gastrointestinal issues. In addition, having no libido for the first time in my life is different but somewhat refreshing. I can focus on things beyond the desire I have for my partner. However, the mental/emotional conditions are at a level which I could never have imagined. It seems to take the mania within me, magnify it and deliver it back exponentially harder to resolve. So, the depression I’ve dealt with for most of my adult life, presents like it’s on steroids.

At this point my mind continually hijacks my body to places I do not want to go, and pushes me to surrender, to acquiesce to the darker side of my psyche. For the past four months the concept of suicide has been front and center. The likelihood that I’ll act on it is miniscule, but it’s there. Too bad that metal health is so stigmatized, because if I were to say that to a mental health expert, they’d probably lock me up for my own protection, versus taking the time to figure out the context of the issue within the framework of my life.

Since starting treatment 18 long months ago, my body has not felt like my own. The experts tell me that it’ll take another 9 months to feel like myself, six more months for treatment and another three months to deplete the drugs from my system. So basically, this time next year I should be normal, whatever that means, regardless, we are going to celebrate.

One of the gifts received since metastatic prostate cancer was diagnosed is the desire to simplify my existence and take advantage of the opportunity to really dig into my life and reimagine my priorities. A positive outlook is requisite to successful treatment. So, I am leaning hard into the half-full glass concept and would buy a round for all, if needed. I am examining the times in my life (when I was happy) for patterns that I can replicate and use as I move forward. And while my childhood was complicated by the relationship of my parents, the bully and the book worm, it’s hard to unlearn those early lessons. I had lots of positive influences as a child and young man, in addition to the trials and tribulations one can expect, some typical, others not so much.

I remain dedicated to positivity, connection and the pursuit of happiness, as cliché as it sounds. Realistically speaking, I have 10 years (8.5 now) before this monster comes roaring back for me. And I may not outrun it in 2033. The best case, I have 20 summers left and don’t intend to waste a second.

As I sit here on the lanai, staring out the ocean, geckos skitter and birds swoop and the coconut palms sway, with the ocean as a backdrop. We are on a slow bell for the next few days as the weather is marginal, but it doesn’t dictate our mood. The Hawks won yesterday, the Olympics are on as TV’s biggest and best inspirational moment (there are no quitters in the Olympic Village). We lay in each other’s arms at night as we drift off to sleep, and wake to cuddle, talk and share our dreams and fears without judgment. We don’t resent the clouds or showers forecasted. Instead, we look for the adventure and opportunity that awaits us.

More to follow…

Noise

Does the din of the world

Fuel the noise in my head?

Or do the sounds in my mind

Leak into the ether,

Adding to the thoughts and prayers 

Of others, increasing

The cacophony of the cosmos?

What if all the noise in the universe

Could be silenced, for just one minute?

Would I bask in the peacefulness 

Or lament the loss of a soundtrack

To all this beauty?

 

© 2025 Marginal Effort Publishing