Two Years into Hormone Treatment... Still Present!

I thought I would share, perhaps an upbeat tone that I hope will cheer at least one person up a little bit.

Two years ago when I was diagnosed with a PSA of 87, I was a very confused, very frightened person. It had hit me like a train, especially when I had turned up for an appointment at the hospital, arranged by my doctor with no idea why I was going there. Doctor had basically said I need to turn up there because one of my readings was a little high and the hospital might want to do a scan... Okidoki I thought, no biggy... 

To be fair I should put the doctors' actions into some context... At that time I was a known, complete Needle-Phobe and rarely showed up at the doctor at all as I just didn't want much to do with them apart from my Asthma treatment. The words that I uttered after years of silence that got the doctor's attention in the first place were '... there is one more thing'. Those words set off a barrage of tests. I specifically remember the nurse who had managed to stick a needle in my arm who kept changing vial after vial, telling me that the doctor had ordered alot of tests because I so rarely show up, and as a needle was in, they wanted to take full advantage.

So when I showed up at Oncology that day the world turned inside out and I found my inner-toddler, the Oncologist apparently had no idea I hadn't been pre-warned that I likely had prostate Cancer. So when he looked up from his notes and simply blurted out my name and words to the effect of ... you've got cancer... what I can recall more or less was that much to the doctor and his silently watching student's dismay, I fell to pieces! That's pretty much the only way to describe that reaction. Before I knew it, a male McMillan nurse had been summoned from across the hospital whom I later found out, ran through the corridors to retrieve the 59-year-old hysterical toddler from the senior oncologist's office.

I will say, that even the largest bar of Toblerone I could find weighing a massive 4.5 kg that I bought that Christmas and presented to Oncology could not really redeem me in my own mind!

Anyway. Needless to say, they performed all the scans, did the tattoos and the month-long radiotherapy, and fought valiantly to rid me of needle phobia, doctor phobia, and hospital phobia... (It didn't really work as I'm currently two weeks late for yet another blood test!,,, but they've already had loads and loads and loads just a few months ago!) 

So... Here we are. Two years later. I show up for every jab, Covid, Flu, Stomach, Bottom and even though one brand of the hormone therapy created a massive abscess in my abdomen that for some or reason or other I thought I could fix myself with salt,,, untill I realized after some 6 weeks that I had to go Doctor or my dinner would start falling out of the monstrous hole I myself had managed to burn with the raw salt.. That took I think three or four months for them to patiently fix... whoops.. I still show up on time for every appointment apart from the current blood test hurdle which I've stalled at like a horse at the Grand National.

My PSA has dropped to 0.04 which apparently is really really good. But I have at least another year of hormone therapy.

I will say, I despise the effects of the Hormone therapy. What little bit of a man I was... Gone! My muscles and huge strength, diminished... I have to sleep with a fan on my face and I can turn it on and off in my sleep... But. I don't go chasing Hairy men and my partner is fortunately the same age as me and she is patiently waiting. Even my jokes about getting her a virile tennis coach have fallen on deaf ears!

I did say this is supposed to be a bit upbeat and suggested it might cheer somebody up... Well... It has succeeded. It has cheered me up this evening and now I am going to pack up my laptop and head home for dinner.... Seasons Greetings everybody. It's not the end until its the end!