When I started this blog sixteen years ago, I put the word “through” in the title, naïvely expecting that whatever treatment I selected would cure me and the cancer would be behind me. Hence, traveling through the experience, coming out the other side cancer-free.

Clearly, the cancer had other plans.

Maybe it’s time that I rebrand the blog as Dan’s Never-ending Journey with Prostate Cancer. Or not.

In those sixteen years, my attitudes about cancer and its treatment have evolved.

Early on, I embraced those who said, “You got this! Kick cancer’s ass!” as well as being described as a warrior in a battle against cancer. I researched and made treatment decisions that gave me a sense of control in defeating the “easy” cancer that is prostate cancer (or so many people think). I happily declared myself “cancer-free” with each undetectable PSA test result after surgery.

The cancer said, “Not so fast.”

My thinking evolved from being a warrior in a battle to being a passenger on a roller coaster, with all its ups and downs and twists and turns.

We may think we’re in control but, when you really consider it, virtually everything we do is in reaction to what the cancer is doing. Yes, we get to make choices along the way—hop on a different roller coaster—but those actions are in direct response to something the cancer did. Even if you’re lucky enough to go into full remission, that cancer cloud will follow you for every annual PSA test thereafter.

This perspective may sound a tad defeatist to some, and I get that. For me, it’s just a more pragmatic way of looking at the world I’m living in: At this point, I’m a passenger along for the ride.

One thing that I’ve noticed over the last sixteen years is how my support network has evolved over time. (Having a support network is important for everyone facing cancer, but when you’re single, there’s a slightly different dimension to it.)

My observation is that most people’s curiosity in your status wanes over time to the point that it essentially evaporates.

Part of it is simply because they’re busy living their own lives, facing their own challenges, and I get it. Their focus is elsewhere, as it should be.

Part of it, though, may be my own fault. Even though I’ve been blogging about this disease for sixteen years, I rarely bring it up in face-to-face conversations. I mean, really, what fun would it be to hang out with, “Whiny Dan the Cancer Man?” Plus, folks have seen me functioning quite well in daily life and trotting around the globe, giving them little reason to suspect that anything might be amiss.

Even though I think about the cancer every day, they don’t. That means I’ve had to adjust my expectations if I need support from them.

I’ve learned that I needed to activate an “on-demand” support network when I hit those key milestones/decision points along the way—PSA becoming detectable again; starting hormone therapy ahead of salvage radiation therapy; salvage radiation therapy; failure of radiation therapy, etc.—because very few will take the initiative to genuinely ask, “Hey. What’s the latest with your cancer? How are you doing?”. (Gee… If only there was some easy way for them to follow along as my case develops…🤔)

Cancer patients need a support network, even when things appear to be going well.

I now understand that it’s up to me to initiate the conversation if I want people to know that the disease and treatment aren’t going the way they’re supposed to, and that I may need a shoulder to lean on when the roller coaster hits another dip. Sometimes, though, that’s easier said than done. Bottom line: Don’t ever be afraid (or too proud) to ask.

The whole point about my bringing this up is not to whine about my friends, but to say that I’ve had to readjust my expectations along the way. If you’ve been diagnosed, perhaps you’ve experienced similar issues with receiving support from your network.

Lastly, in sixteen years I’ve learned far more about the technical/medical/research side of prostate cancer than I ever imagined possible.

For those of us who like to put things into a spreadsheet cell, you very quickly learn that nothing in prostate cancer research and treatment is black-and-white. Nothing. That, of course, adds to the stress of trying to select which roller coaster/treatment path to hop onto. “If the experts can’t agree, how am I supposed to know what to do?”

You do your research with the information available at the time; settle on what’s best for you and your own goals; make a decision; and don’t look back.

On a positive note, the advances in technology, medications, and treatment options in those sixteen years have been amazing and have given all of us diagnosed with this disease more options to identify it and treat it. That’s good.

I’m thankful that I’m still here sharing my experience sixteen years later, and I’m beyond thankful for those who have stood by me along the way.

Be well!

What’s Next

I noticed that I had an entry on my calendar for lab work ahead of the upcoming CT and bone scan, which I had completely forgotten about. When I went for my annual flu vaccine, the nurse confirmed that I was supposed to get that lab work done. I suspect they’ll draw the PSA test at the same time instead of going on 1 December, and I’ll be okay with that.

Date	Event
17 November 2026	Pre-scan labs & PSA Test
23 November 2026	CT and bone scans
8 December 2026	Medical oncologist appointment

Header image: Tenaya Lake, Yosemite National Park, California