There are two reasons for writing this blog: it may prove helpful to others, whilst providing catharsis for me. Right now is a kind of limbo, more waiting.
I didn't see it coming, didn't realise there was a progression, until cumulative symptoms suggested I might need help: aches (rather than sharp pain) in lower abdomen and ribs, lacking enthusiasm, energy, even concentration, loss of appetite, struggling to control body temperature, and losing weight fast. The warning bell should have sounded loud and clear when I went off beer! With the benefit of hindsight, there were clues to interpret which I put down to my age, ignorance is not bliss.
A no-brainer then, mid-August I sought a GP appointment, wherein he took a urine sample to test and prodded my bell abouty. I was told to 'phone to arrange an ultrasound scan of bladder and kidneys, then arrange a blood test. The ultrasound happened quickly due to a cancellation, and on the 1st of September I was told there was nothing unusual on the scan, and the bladder not emptying entirely was "common at our age". Seven days later I duly turned up at the GP surgery for the bloods, to be told there was a national shortage of vials so no test "because it's not essential for you, at this time".
A day or two beforehand, dearly-beloved (who happens to be an A&E receptionist) had spoken to one of the consultants at the General, who suggested going through A&E if I thought the GP wasn't 'engaging'. So, after the blood test farrago I rocked up at A&E on the 10th, around mid-day, waiting patiently (pun intended) in the queue. All symptoms were carefully noted, and I huddled in a blanket as my body temperature fell through the floor; they struggled to get blood out of me for the tests I was so cold, ... but third person lucky! Came the evening and a senior consultant told me they had enough concerns to put me on the "Two week Wait Referral", a type of fast-track. Stuff started happening now! Within four days the first letter came, confirming an appointment at the Urology Centre on the 29th. Next up, an MRI Scan with Contrast on the 30th at seven in the morning. After that, before mid-day, dearly-beloved took a phone-call asking me to see a consultant at the hospital at one-fifteen that very afternoon. The bombshell left me numb, Advanced Prostate Cancer, (secondaries found in the ribs). The consultant told me it couldn't be cured, but could be treated, possibly giving me years. They didn't have the complete scenario, there were further tests to follow. 1st October a CT Scan, on the 7th a Precision Point Biopsy, the 8th a full skeleton Body Scan. Hormone therapy treatment commenced as soon as the GP and pharmacy supplied a Bicalutamide course of tablets and within ten days the implant injection, which happened on the 11th.
At the time of writing, the 23rd of October, we have a lot of thinking and planning to carry out, but are still in limbo until all of the test results are compiled, which could be next week or early November. The cards have been dealt, but not all of them have been seen, the game's afoot.
