Category: Recurrence

Day 2,091 – Off for the Blood Draw

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Recurrence8 Comments

So I’m off to get my blood drawn for the next PSA test. (Those 4 months went by faster than I expected.)

Anyone want to get a pool going on what the results will be? (Hey, you got to have some fun with this crap, right??) My money is on somewhere between 0.95 ng/ml and 0.12 ng/ml. It was 0.08 ng/ml in April. Of course, if it doubles like it did from December to April, that would put it at a scary 0.16 ng/ml.

My real desire is for it to be 0.08 or less, but in my mind, I’ve been preparing for it to be in that 0.95–0.12 range. Expect the worst; hope for the best; deal with the facts once they’re known.

I’ll keep you posted as I log into my health account every hour on the hour for the next three days searching for the result. The appointment with the urologist to go over the results and potential next steps is on 23 August.

Month 67 – Back to “Normal”

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Prostate Cancer, Recurrence1 Comment

What a two months it’s been.

I’m finally back into a more normal routine after getting knocked off my horse with my PSA increasing to 0.08 ng/ml in April. The raw emotions have subsided and have been replaced with a constant, low-grade concern as I wait for my next PSA test.

One ironic thing that won’t let me completely purge the notion of cancer from my mind is the fact that my office is in a hospital and, every morning on the way to my office, I walk down a long corridor that leads directly to the “Radiation/Oncology” suite. And every day, I’m reminded that radiation may be in my future.

The urologist set my next appointment for 23 August, but she put the blood draw order into the system for any time after 1 July. I won’t go that early.

The engineer in me wants to make sure that the PSA tests are evenly spaced for easier analysis (geek, I know). The last two tests were almost exactly 4 months apart (3 December 2015 & 6 April 2016), so I plan on going in for the blood draw on or about 3 August to keep things consistent. It might make calculating PSA doubling times easier.

Just as I was putting the finishing touches on this post, I came across this article: Is standardization of the PSA cut point for biochemical recurrence after surgery a good idea?

Yet another study offering conflicting and confusing guidance. <sigh>

When you introduce cancer into your vocabulary, it’s impossible not to think about the end of life at the same time. Sure, none of us want to jump the gun and rush things, but it’s a natural extension of the word cancer.

My father died peacefully in his sleep 19 years ago next week. My mother, on the other hand, went through a grueling end ten years ago as mesothelioma and emphysema took away her ability to breathe.

When it comes our time to go, most of us would opt to die as my father did—quietly and quickly. Sure, it was hell on those of us who remained behind because no one ever expected it to happen; he was just 69 years old. For him, however, there was no extended suffering or pain.

The California End of Life Option Act went into effect this week, and I’m thankful that I now live in a state where I can have a say in how my life ends if this cancer thing ultimately gets the better of me.

Yes, I’m getting waaaaaay ahead of myself. The only question is whether more courage is required to make that end-of-life decision or to suffer through cancer running its natural course.

Mom wasn’t afraid of dying, but her biggest fear was that of suffering at the end. Her fears came true. I know she would have jumped at the chance to make her own determination on how to avoid that suffering if the option was available to her.

Again, I hope that I don’t have to worry about this for a very, very long time. I’ll settle on worrying about the next PSA test results for now.

Day 2,019 – It’s Official

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Recurrence11 Comments

May is the month of the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes horse races, and you always have to wait a few moments before the unofficial results are declared official.

I just saw the doctor’s interpretation of my bone scan results online, and it’s official: No metastasis.

Now where’s my damned Garland of Roses?!?!?

Photo: Craiglduncan at English Wikipedia

 

Day 2,017 – Bone Scan

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Prostate Cancer, Recurrence11 Comments

Today was the big bone scan day and all went according to plan. Get juiced up at 10 a.m. and come back at 1 p.m. for the scan. Near the end, I asked the technician, “Do you see anything that warrants concern?”

“Nope. Clean as a whistle,” he replied. I breathed a giant sigh of relief.

Of course, the technician’s interpretation is not the official interpretation, but I’ll take it for now.

Interestingly, after getting injected with the radioactive glow juice and before the actual scan, I went down to the urology department to make an appointment with the urologist, and there was this 30-something pregnant woman filled with attitude and for whom empathy was a foreign concept. When I asked to make the appointment, she pulled up the calendar and saw that I was already scheduled for late August. “You don’t need an appointment. You’re already on the calendar.”

I tried explaining that waiting 3 months for the results of a test that I was taking today was NOT going to happen, especially considering those results could show possible metastasis (at least in my mind). She had none of my argument initially, but eventually went off in a huff to talk to the doctor about setting up an appointment earlier. It’s set for 2 June. It kind of pissed me off, but I chalked it up to the kid in her womb kicking her in the kidney. (Way to go, kid!)

But now that I know what the technician told me, I’m going to email the urologist and have her confirm the official results. If everything was clean, I’ll cancel the 2 June appointment and just go back into wait until the next PSA test mode.

After leaving Ms. Panties-in-a-Wad, I had three hours to kill, and I opted to walk a mile and a half to the University Towne Center shopping mall. I figured it would help calm me plus help distribute the glow juice through my body.

As I’m walking along the north side of La Jolla Village Drive, the sidewalk just stopped and a narrow dirt path was all that was left to walk on for a city block. I thought that it was odd that posh La Jolla couldn’t afford 600 feet of concrete for us poor pedestrians.

As I was walking that path with waist-high weeds on either side, I had a flashback to my childhood. A friend of mine and I would play in the “prairie,” which was nothing more than a couple of adjacent, overgrown vacant city lots. There were dirt paths and mounds for our bikes, and the same tall weeds. It was a place for a youngster’s imagination to run wild with adventures.

After lunch, I made it back to the hospital for the actual scan. I arrived about 25 minutes before the scheduled time, and the technician was standing right there when I checked in. “Let’s do this,” he said, and off we went. Fine by me.

As I reclined onto the table, I couldn’t help but notice this colorful butterfly painted on the ceiling directly above the scanner. For some crazy reason, the German word for butterfly, Schmetterling, popped into my head and just stayed there.

Once the scan began, I started emerging from the tube, and the only thing that I could see what that silly Schmetterling on the ceiling. I thought, “Hmm, a metamorphosis? Emerging from my tubular steel and plastic cocoon and turning into a butterfly?”

So that was my day. How was yours?

Day 1,995 – Hard Conversations

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Prostate Cancer, Recurrence3 Comments

Sunday, I popped back into the museum where I worked up until January to see my old colleagues and friends. It was good to get caught up and to hear how things were going since I left.

Of course, they inquired as to how I was doing, and that led to a small dilemma for me. Do I tell them about what’s been transpiring, or not?

I lied and told them that things were just fine with me. As I did, it immediately took me back to the days of being back in the closet and having to pretend to be something I’m not all over again. It wasn’t a good feeling at all.

My intent in going there was to let at least one or two of my closer friends there know what was going on, because, as one fellow blogger recently wrote, “A burden shared, is a burden halved.” (And as therapeutic as venting on this blog has been, it’s always better to have a real shoulder to cry on.)

But after spending a little time with my museum friends, I realized that it wasn’t the appropriate time or place to share what I’ve been going through, so I didn’t.

So far, I’ve only told two of my friends (a husband and wife team) face-to-face, and four others via email. That’s it.

Telling my friends in person was more difficult than I expected. The words hung up in my throat and didn’t want to come out. By saying aloud that I had early indicators that the cancer might be returning, made it real.

I could tell the same thing was happening on Sunday with my museum friends as I got closer to uttering those words—they didn’t want to come out. (Hence, another reason not to say anything.)

I’ve yet to tell my sister and her family that all of this is going on; they’re still reeling from my brother-in-law having had his massive stroke in August. They’re emotionally exhausted right now, and I don’t want to add to that burden until I know something more definitive. (And, yes, I know that they have a right to know at some point and, no, the chances of them reading about this here are pretty slim to nonexistent. Trust me.)

The support that I’ve received from you has been incredible, and I’m truly thankful for it. But right now, I need some additional local support on this roller coaster ride. To get that, at some point, I’m going to have to come out of the “cancer may be returning” closet and have that hard conversation with those closest to me.

[Yes, I know I’m getting waaay ahead of myself, but that’s the way this crazy mind of mine works. I like to be prepared. It’s really, really annoying at times.]

Speaking of closets and hard conversations, here’s an interesting 11-minute video on the very topic.

Day 1,990 – Quick Update

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Recurrence10 Comments

Just a quick update on a Friday afternoon…

Emotionally, doing quite well, although I still have the occasional fit of being pissed at this whole situation. Otherwise, pretty much back to my normal day-in, day-out routine.

I’ve also been doing a bit of reading on the concept of recurrence and treatments. Not obsessively, and not letting it add fuel to any emotional fire. Absorbing it in small doses with an open mind. If anyone has any compelling article, book, or other source on the topic, please feel free to share.

I received confirmation today that the next step in the process—the bone scan—is scheduled for 19 May 2016. I’m fine with that.

 

Day 1,988 – The Day After

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Prostate Cancer, Recurrence9 Comments

It’s the day after my appointment with the urologist, and I’ve come to learn how truly amazing is our capacity to experience the full spectrum of emotions simultaneously. Specifically, I felt a strong sense of being at peace today while still being mad at the world.

I know the doctor never explicitly stated that the cancer is coming back, but her concern and her actions tell me that I’ve taken my first steps down that path. Sure, it may take six months, a year, or even longer of traveling to that magical 0.2 ng/ml biochemical recurrence destination, but in my mind, once you start down that path, there’s little you can do to get off it.

Salvage radiation or androgen deprivation therapies may slow the rate at which I progress down the path, but, in my mind, the ultimate destination will be the same. The question is whether it will allow me enough time to die with prostate cancer and not from prostate cancer.

Am I getting ahead of myself? I don’t think so. Something in my gut tells me that this is really happening. And, no, that’s not giving up—it’s just accepting reality. Having a healthy outlook on death and dying came from my mom who, coincidentally, died—or, to use her word, “croaked”—ten years ago tomorrow. (She left my sister and I a note with instructions that started, “When I croak…”)

The sense of peace that I’m feeling comes from having much of the ambiguity removed. Sure, there are plenty of tests ahead that will either confirm that I’m on the path or add doubt as to whether and how fast I’m progressing down the path. And there’s plenty that even the experts can’t agree on concerning the therapies, and that will be maddening. But now I feel as though I have a sense of purpose—something to focus on—and that’s where the peace comes from.

Do I want to be on this path? Hell no. I’m mad as hell that I’m in this situation. But the anger will subside, and then I’ll focus on two things: 1) Living and 2) figuring out the best course of action to slow or stop the progress of this monster.

And if 4, 8, or 12 months from now, I’m proven to be a complete idiot because there was no recurrence, then I’ll take that, too. It certainly won’t be the first time nor will it be the last.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have four months of getting really, really smart about salvage therapies, their effectiveness, their risks, and their side effects.

Day 1,982 – Exhausted

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Recurrence6 Comments

Cancer is exhausting.

Ever since getting my PSA results last Friday, I’ve been so emotionally charged that I just reached a point of pure physical exhaustion tonight. But, on a positive note, today was the first day since last Friday where I wasn’t overcome with complete dread, anger, and sadness.

The whole week I’ve been mad at the world for having to even be thinking about the cancer coming back. I cruised along for more than four years thinking, “I got this licked,” with each successive undetectable PSA test, especially as I closed in on the five year mark. And now this. Pissed me off.

Being so angry didn’t bode well for anyone around me, as the smallest little thing would set me off. Being in a job that is almost entirely about relationships with people, it was extraordinarily difficult—and draining—to not allow that anger to come through and get directed at the people I support.

Of course, there was no way to just purge cancer from my thoughts; it was ever-present, especially because I’ve been doing research in advance of my appointment with the urologist on Tuesday. That made it challenging to focus on the tasks at hand at work, too.

Then the sadness of just having to go through this all over again, knowing that this time it will be a more difficult journey than just a snip-snip, your prostate’s gone, sapped any remaining positive energy from me as well.

Lastly, there’s the frustration of not having any immediate, definitive answers as to what in the hell is going on. Yes, I know that I’m getting ahead of myself, but I’m also not naive. Having three consecutive elevated PSA readings tells me something different is going on. In my mind, I’m trying to reconcile the fact that this really is happening, and that I need to be prepared to accept the fact that the cancer may be back one day.

My prediction is that Tuesday with the urologist will go something like this:

  • Yes, this is an interesting development having a third elevated PSA test higher than the others.
  • It warrants concern, but not panic. (Too late.)
  • We’ll want to do another PSA test in 2-4 months.

Perhaps the best analogy for this week is that I had been driving down the highway on cruise control, bumping my speed up a tad with each successive undetectable PSA test, then—BAM!—out of the blue, I have a blowout. It takes a few moments to assess what happened, reconcile what needs to be done, and then regain control of the situation. After the adrenaline rush subsides, you’re zapped of all your energy.

Right now, I’m somewhere between reconciling and regaining control. I’ll get there.

Month 65 – PSA Debate

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Recurrence5 Comments

Well, with the jump in my PSA to 0.08 ng/ml that I reported a few days ago, I’ve been poring over some literature on the debate between the standard PSA test that’s been used for years and the newer ultrasensitve PSA test (which I’ll abbreviate uPSA) that my provider switched to in March 2015. Let’s review:

  • In January 2015 I had my last undetectable reading (<0.03 ng/ml) using the standard PSA assay.
  • My provider switched to the uPSA assay in March 2015.
  • My September 2015 uPSA reading came back at 0.05 ng/ml, sending me into full panic mode. Given the accuracy of the standard PSA test of +/- 0.03 ng/ml, it, too, should have been able to pick up the 0.05 ng/ml reading in September if it had been used.
  • We retested in December 2015 and my uPSA was 0.04 ng/ml. I would attribute the change from 0.05 to 0.04 to the daily variations that so many talk about and consider that to be insignificant. Still, the standard PSA test could have picked up the 0.04 reading had it been used.
  • And now in April 2016, my uPSA was 0.08 ng/ml.

Those against using the uPSA argue that we’re simply measuring noise and that anything under 0.1 ng/ml should not be used as a decision point to start salvage therapy. They also call into question the accuracy of PSA doubling times using the uPSA test given that it may be measuring more noise than actual changes.

Those embracing the new uPSA test argue that initial, small-scale studies show that uPSA can be a predictor of recurrence with readings as low as 0.03 ng/ml, and that it allows for earlier intervention with salvage therapy. More large-scale research is needed to confirm these early findings.

Some of the literature written against the use of uPSA goes back to 2000. Technology advances in sixteen years, and that would be my question to those opposed to the uPSA. At one point in time, I’m sure that doctors and scientists scoffed at the standard PSA test as being a newfangled, meaningless test that wouldn’t provide doctors or patients with actionable information, but it became widely accepted.

All I know and care about as a layperson is that there is upward movement on my PSA when there had been no movement for four years. Even if it’s just noise, 0.08 is getting awfully close to 0.1 and is halfway to 0.2—and it took just seven months for this to happen. That scares the crap out of me.

And, if I am destined to go down this path of recurrence, don’t even get me started on the whole conflicting and confusing guidance on salvage radiation and hormone therapy! I’ll save those discussions for future posts.

When you’re dealing with cancer, you really don’t want to wish for days to pass quickly, except when you’re waiting for test results and doctor appointments. April 19th can’t come quickly enough right now.

Day 1,977 – PSA Results

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Prostate Cancer, Recurrence9 Comments

Crap!!! (I used another four-letter word, but I would like to maintain a sense of decorum about this blog).

That little cancer cloud hanging over my head let loose a giant thunderbolt this week.

My PSA came back at 0.08 ng/ml, double what it was in December (0.04 ng/ml) and more than it was in September (0.05 ng/ml).

Did I say, “Crap!!!” ???

Even though it’s still below of the widely accepted 0.2 ng/ml definition of biochemical recurrence, I better start researching salvage treatments for recurrence because doubling in four months is not a desirable PSA velocity, at least in my pea-sized brain.

Did I say, “Crap!!!” ???

My appointment with the urologist is on 19 April, so I’ll have time to get prepared with tons of questions.

Crap!!!

PSA Trend