Day 2,841 – A Chat with the Urologist

I met with the urologist this afternoon to go over my 1 August 2018 PSA test results and it was an interesting conversation.

This was a new guy wearing his spiffy white lab coat with the University of California-San Diego (UCSD) emblem embroidered on the pocket. (I pretty much see a different doctor each time I go to the VA hospital and, yes, UCSD doctors care for patients at the VA hospital, too.) I had my PSA trend chart printed and sitting on his desk when he walked in, which he appreciated seeing the whole history on one page.

I let him start the conversation and it was pretty clear right from the start that he was of the “continue to monitor; no need to act right away” mindset. He really focused on my PSA doubling time being so long as being the reason for his recommendation to just watch this for now.

I shared my conversation with the radiation oncologist with him and he really didn’t comment one way or the other about the R.O.’s initial recommendation to zap.

I did take advantage of the opportunity to discuss the urological side effects of being zapped in salvage radiation therapy. One of the things that I focused on was urinary strictures.

He explained that just by having a prostatectomy and stretching the bladder neck to reconnect with the urethra, you’re in essence creating a stricture to begin with. “That’s a good thing,” he said, “because it helps control the urine flow in the absence of the prostate.” But zapping the area will change the nature of the surrounding tissue and can cause it to close down further. If that’s the case, they may have to do a procedure to re-open things and that’s where you can get into the higher leakage scenarios.

One of the things that really resonated with me during that discussion about side effects was when he said that I shouldn’t even be worried about them because I could go months or years without even having to think about salvage radiation therapy. (And, no, I didn’t prompt him to say that!)

That led to a discussion about the newer imaging technologies and he reinforced what I already knew—that most are unreliable with PSAs less than 0.2 ng/ml. I told him that the spreadsheet that generated my chart shows that I won’t hit 0.2 until late 2020 or early 2021 if it continues at its current pace. Perhaps in that time, the new imaging technologies will be better and more reliable at lower PSA levels. (He was also empathetic to the idea of not zapping unless you knew where the cancer was.)

We also talked about the frequency of my PSA tests and his immediate response was that we could do this every six months, again, based on my PSA doubling time. That surprised me. We’ve been on a four-month cycle for three years now. He said it would be my call, so I opted to stick to the four-month cycle for at least one more cycle.

Wrapping up the conversation, I did ask, “If I do have to get zapped at some point, where would you do it? UCSD or Naval Medical Center?” He deflected my question and never responded, so I asked again. Again, he remained silent but his hint of a grin perhaps answered it for me.

All in all, I was pleased with the consult and am content to continue to monitor, with my next PSA test being in early December.

Yes, I know that more studies are showing that zapping recurrent prostate cancer early leads to better outcomes in the long run. But other studies (Pound, Freedland) show that someone with my pathology can delay or even forego additional treatment and its associated side effects impacting quality of life and stick around for an additional 8-15 years. So, yes, this is a bit like playing a game of chicken or Russian roulette, and that thought never leaves my mind.

So why not get zapped and be done with it? Because quality of life is very important to me and if I can maintain it for a few years more than I want to try and do that. Is there risk of the cancer getting away from me? Of course. But with continued monitoring and perhaps advances in imaging technology, we can stay one or two steps ahead of it.

Time will tell.

Month 93 – Questioning Recommendation

Regular readers of my blog know that I tend to overthink things. Big time.

I’ve had a few days to think about what the radiation oncologist said in his email—about continued monitoring being a very reasonable approach—and I began to question that bit of advice. Not necessarily its validity, but more along the lines of why the change of heart with the doctor?

When we had our consult in May, there was no doubt that his recommendation was to start salvage radiation therapy right away. He presented a pretty strong argument that early treatment is better than delaying. My numbers now are the same as when he gave his “treat now” recommendation, so why the sudden change to “okay to monitor”? Is he just appeasing me, telling me what he thinks I want to hear? Or does this one data point of a stable PSA really justify changing a treatment recommendation?

Don’t fret. As I said, I overthink things.

I’m perfectly content with the “continue to monitor” approach for the foreseeable future. I really don’t question the integrity of the radiation oncologist either. Even if he was appeasing me, part of being a good doctor is listening to the patient’s concerns and understanding that the patient’s perspective needs to be at forefront of any treatment decision. I only met with the doctor once, but given his take-charge personality, I’m confident that he would have argued more forcefully if he truly thought I needed radiation therapy right away.

I’ve put aside my little bout of cynicism and will focus on enjoying the next four months.

Speaking of four months, that’s the other little cloud that rained on my post-PSA parade. “Crap. I’m back in PSA limbo land yet again.” Mentally, I had prepared myself for the PSA to have gone up again and that I would be one step closer to making the zap or not to zap decision. It’s still emotionally draining even after almost eight years of dealing with this. Oh well. Suck it up, buttercup.


On a fun note, I was toying with the idea of driving out to the 96° F / 36° C desert tonight to try and capture the Perseid meteor shower with my camera (I’m writing this on Friday night). But after three hours in the dentist’s chair this afternoon, that ain’t gonna happen. I’m zonked. Perhaps Saturday night.

Here’s what I captured after an hour and a half of standing alone in the desert last year. A near-full moon was rising and illuminating the mountains, but it was beginning to be too bright to see meteors.

Perseid in ABDSP

 

 

Day 2,827 – Q&A with the Radiation Oncologist

Just a quick update…

I shared my last PSA results with my radiation oncologist via email yesterday to see if the results would influence his treatment recommendation.

He stated that a stable PSA is “great news” and that “continuing to monitor at this point is a very reasonable approach.” I also asked if a four-month PSA test frequency was appropriate or if we should look at increasing the frequency. With my numbers, he said that a three to six month frequency was most common, so sticking to four months was fine.

I also asked for clarification about sexual function after salvage radiation therapy. For some reason, I had it in my mind that from our conversation during the initial consult, he said that zapping me would likely damage my one remaining nerve bundle to the point that sexual function would be a thing of the past. He corrected me.

He said that post-radiation function is highly dependent on pre-radiation function. There will likely be some degradation, but not necessarily a complete loss of function as I had somehow lodged in my brain.

He closed the conversation by saying, “Hopefully your PSA will continue to behave itself and we can worry about that [sexual function] down the road.”

Needless to say, I was quite pleased with those responses.

We’ll see what the urologist says on the 21st (I put the wrong date in my last post) but, for now, I’m fine with doing nothing until my next PSA test in December.

 

Day 2,823 – Surprised

I was more than pleasantly surprised this morning when I learned that my PSA remained the same! It came back at 0.11 ng/ml, the same that it was in April.

PSA 20180801 plain

 

I learned the news from my primary care physician this morning when I was in to have something else checked out. In fact, I was so surprised by the result that I had to ask him twice to confirm that it was the 1 August reading and not the April reading.

I did ask him for his take on the reading, my history, and what he thought I should do next. He agreed that there are too many differing opinions and recommendations making it frustrating for patients. “Go with your gut,” was the best advice he could muster up.  Gee, thanks.

Of course, the stalled PSA growth (one data point does not make a trend), makes me inclined to kick the decision can another four months down the road—another four months without the side effects of radiation therapy. However, when I meet with the urologist on 19 August to go over the results, I’ll focus the conversation on the long term side effects of salvage radiation therapy because I don’t want to rule that completely out yet, either.

I may even email the radiation oncologist the results to get his take on them. Would he still want to zap me now (probably yes), or would he be more inclined to wait a while longer?

Regardless, I’m going to enjoy the results for now and think about decisions after the visit on the 19th.

 

 

 

Day 2,821 – PSA Test Time

It’s that time again. I had my blood drawn this morning and I suspect I’ll have the results online late Friday night.

My last PSA in April was 0.11 ng/ml and my handy-dandy spreadsheet predicts that this PSA will come in around 0.124 ng/ml. We’ll see…

If it does, that will add a little more pressure to make the “zap or not to zap” decision.

Stay tuned…

Month 92 – Sweating it Out

Literally. It’s been a god-awfully hot weekend here in San Diego. On Friday, the temperature downtown on the waterfront hit 97° F / 36° C and in Ramona, about an hour to the northeast of San Diego, it hit a toasty 117° F / 47° C! Yep. That’s correct. It’s not a typo.

Four wildfires broke out in the area Friday afternoon as well, with the nearest one to my house only 11 miles / 17 km away. A bit unnerving to say the least seeing as how rapidly those things can spread. (In 2003, the Cedar Fire spread about 25 miles / 40 km in about 16 hours thanks to a raging Santa Ana wind.) Thankfully, there was no such wind on Friday, and our amazing firefighters kept the fire to 10 acres / 40.000 m² but one home was lost.


I’ve been rather successful at not sweating over prostate cancer for a while now, and it’s been a good thing. In fact, so much so that I really don’t have much else for this post. Of course, that will change in three weeks when I go for my PSA test on 1 August.

So with nothing else to report, I’ll just leave you with a photo of some oak leaves in the sun near Big Bear Lake…

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Life After Radical Prostatectomy: 90 Months Later

So it’s been 90 months since my radical prostatectomy. How am I doing?

Status

With a continuously rising PSA, it’s time to face that reality that I have a biochemical recurrence and the cancer is back. Now it’s just a matter of trying to figure out what to do about it. Far easier said than done.

Emotions

Whether consciously or subconsciously, I came to terms with the idea of recurrence a while ago. What I’m really struggling with right now is how I’m going to make the decision as to whether to proceed with salvage radiation therapy now, later, or even at all. I have no idea how I’m going to make that choice and be satisfied that it’s the right one. When I chose surgery and my surgeon after my initial diagnosis, I was completely satisfied with my choice, had no regrets, and never second-guessed it once. I’m lacking that confidence right now.

Incontinence

On the whole, I’m still doing well with incontinence—well into the mid-90% dry range. I have noticed, however, a few more unexpected minor leaks popping up than what I’m used to. That’s concerning, especially if I choose salvage radiation therapy and its potential side effects.

The leaks usually happen when I’m more physically active (especially lifting something heavy), so if I know I have that kind of activity planned in my day, I’ll throw a thin pad in my underwear for good measure.

Sexual Function

It seems that my ability to achieve decent erections has regressed a little, too. I’m probably more in the 70%-85% range now. Good enough to achieve an orgasm, but questionable for much more than that. Of course, if I have salvage radiation therapy, those numbers will likely drop significantly, especially because only one nerve bundle was left behind.

Summary

My first ever visit to a radiation oncologist in May was a defining moment for me. It certainly took its emotional and physical toll from me. I was so mentally and physically exhausted from the research and constant thoughts that I just had to stop and step away. I know I have a major decision ahead of me at some point in the future but, for now, I’m content with not thinking about it at all at the moment.

I know I’ll get snapped back into reality when I go for my next PSA test on 1 August 2018.

Day 2,770 – In a Weird Place

IMG_20180611_170732125

Every weekday, I pass by here on the way to or from my office, getting a not-so-subtle reminder, “Hey! You need to make a decision, yahoo!” A few weeks ago, that nagging voice carried a bit of weight. Today, not so much.

In fact, I’ve taken the ostrich approach over the last few weeks—burying my head deep in the sand, ignoring anything related to The Decision. I haven’t actively researched diddly-squat and that’s been liberating. I know that’s not a productive approach to the situation at hand, but I’m okay with that for now.

The best explanation that I have for being in this weird state of indifference and inaction is a simple one: I’m mentally exhausted from constantly thinking about this. I just needed to shut it down for a while.

I know I’ll have to get back in the groove someday (after the 1 August PSA test?), but for now, I’m enjoying the denial and the break.

Month 91 – Random Meetings and Thoughts

It was bound to happen. The other day I ran into my radiation oncologist in the little convenience store in the hospital where both of us work. It was kind of funny. There was his initial reaction when he saw me and recalled who I was, “Hey, howyadoin’?” he asked, followed quickly by a slight tinge of panic wondering if I was going to assault him with a battery of follow-up questions right next to the granola bars and packaged nuts. I didn’t. “Hi, Doc! How are you?” is all I replied, much to his relief, I’m sure.

A few days later, I was back in the convenience store standing in line behind a bearded 30-something guy in black scrubs. I commented, “Black scrubs? I don’t know that I’d want you coming into my room if I were a patient here. It would look like the Grim Reaper is coming to pay a visit.” (For being a terminal introvert, I can be good at striking up conversations with complete strangers.) He laughed and we chatted some more. “Where do you work?” I asked. “Radiation Oncology, so I suppose the black scrubs take on added meaning there.” He was one of their radiation technicians, and I didn’t bother to tell him that he may be zapping me someday soon.

All of that has highlighted me to resolve another internal debate that I’ve been having with myself: Whether or not to inform my coworkers of my recurrence.

I work for a small nonprofit that has a staff of 22 employees, plus, more and more staff members at the hospital know me because of the reach that our organization has there. In essence, we’re family. If I do choose to get zapped 75 steps away from my office, the chances of someone I work with seeing me entering or leaving Radiation Oncology are pretty good. “Surprise!”

Beyond that, I questioned why I want to share this with my work family. To have more shoulders to lean on? To let them know why I’m so distracted and distant some days? If I’m perfectly honest with myself, it’s a little bit of all of that. But I also know from experience that, when I shared my story with my coworkers shortly after being initially diagnosed, a burden had been lifted from my shoulders. “A burden shared is a burden halved,” someone once said, and there’s truth in that.

I was all set to share my story until tragedy struck when one of our staff members passed away unexpectedly. That put my little plan on pause, appropriately so.

Part of me is thankful for the pause. On reflection, I may be putting additional indirect pressure on the decision-making. If I’ve got 44 eyeballs looking at this introvert in anticipation of a decision, that could be nerve-wracking. Perhaps it’s best to wait to share my story until after I make the decision, that way there won’t be the second-guessing that comes when people question your choice, if not overtly, at least by that puzzled glance.

Speaking of the decision, I don’t know that I’m any closer to it. I continue to research for a few hours each week, reading articles and journals, and I’m coming to the conclusion that I probably have enough information on the treatment and its side effects to make the call. I’m not going to find that magical “a-ha” paper that swings the decision one way or the other.

One of the hang-ups that I have though, is the lack of ability to determine where the cancer is at my current PSA levels. I really would like to know with a high degree of confidence that we’re zapping in the right place. Yet, one article sticks in my mind where the author wrote, “That would be a self-fulfilling prophecy: by waiting for the cancer to put out more PSA [so the imaging could detect it], one is virtually ensuring that the cancer will grow, spread, and possibly metastasize.” Food for thought.

In my head, I’m thinking we wait for the August PSA results and go from there. Perhaps take a nice autumn vacation and, if I choose to get zapped, do so not long after I return. Or not. (Definitely the vacation part, though. I need that!)

BBC News: Prostate cancer immune system drug results could be ‘spectacular’

This popped up in my news feed. Looks promising to 10%-15% of patients.

BBC News: Prostate cancer immune system drug results could be ‘spectacular’.
https://www.bbc.com/news/health-44343415

Shared via Google News