Tag: Androgen Deprivation Therapy

Month 147 – Delayed Reactions?

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Radiation Proctitis, Side Effects14 Comments

It’s hard to believe that it’s been over five months since I wrapped up my salvage radiation therapy (SRT) and concurrent androgen deprivation therapy (ADT). For the most part, things have been good, but two things have popped up along the way. One insignificant, the other has me wondering what the future will hold.

Where Oh Where is My Body Hair?

The first seems to be a delayed reaction of the ADT/hormone therapy which was administered nine months ago on 3 May 2022. It seems the loss of testosterone is taking a toll on my body hair.

Maybe this has been going on for a while and I just now noticed it (I mean, really, who monitors the status of their body hair on a regular basis???).

I wasn’t a very hirsute guy to begin with, but I noticed in the shower the other day that what little chest hair that I did have has been diminished by at least half to two-thirds. A little oddball patch of hair on my back right below my collar line is now pretty much gone, and let’s just say that there’s less hair in a few places further south.

Is it a big deal? Of course not. Just superficial, but I find it interesting that it appears to be happening so long after the Eligard injection. Maybe that’s normal for ADT. I’m not going to worry about it (unless my beard starts falling out, then I may be a little concerned).

GI Changes?

The second issue has to deal with what I’ll probably imprecisely call gastrointestinal changes or perhaps a prelude to the thing I dreaded most: radiation proctitis. Whether they’re related to the radiation therapy or not, I don’t know yet. I thought radiation proctitis took longer to take root, but I could be wrong.

I haven’t changed my diet much compared to pre- and post-radiation, so I don’t think it’s diet causing these issues. (Although I did buy a bag of pistachios recently and, with hindsight, they may have aggravated them.)

Pre-radiation, I was a pretty regular guy when it came to bowel movements. Once in the morning and I was good until the next morning. Now, five months after radiation, I’m noticing that I’m having two to four bowel movements a day about a third to half of the days. Some of those extra bowel movements come on with some urgency. So far, it’s not been an issue or caused an accident, but it does raise some concern as to what it may be like a year or two from now if it is, in fact, related to the radiation therapy.

The other GI issue that has popped up is that I seem to have more intestinal gas than I used to. (And, no, it’s not related to San Diego’s wonderful Mexican cuisine!)

The thing that concerns me about being so gassy is the fact that, when I pass gas, it comes out with less effort than it used to. In fact, sometimes, it almost just slips out and I have to wonder if it’s going to be only gas that comes out, and nothing extra (fart vs. shart). My concern is about rectal control over the long term if I’m experiencing something like this now. Again, something to monitor (you know me—I’ve started a tracking spreadsheet) and discuss with the doctor.

What’s Next?

My last PSA test was on 1 November, and we agreed to check it again in March, so I’ll figure out a date to hit the lab for the bloodwork. You may recall that post-radiation PSAs taken in September and November both came in at 0.05 ng/mL, so we’ll it will be interesting to see if it goes down, stays the same, or goes up again. Any wagers???

I should be meeting with the radiation oncologist again in May for my six-month follow-up from the last meeting.

That’s a Wrap

That’s about it for this month. You may recall that last month, I spent my birthday in Death Valley National Park. After visiting there, I headed over to Zion National Park for a short visit. You can check it out by clicking HERE.

Header Image: Canyon in Zion National Park along the Virgin River

Month 142 – Two Weeks After SRT Ended

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer5 Comments

After a hectic summer, it’s about time that I get back on my regular posting schedule of at least one post a month on the 11th of each month.

There’s good news and there’s less good news.

The good news: On the fatigue front, that’s been slowly but surely abating and my energy levels are improving steadily. I still have my moments, but it’s much better than it used to be. I expect that my energy levels will be back to pre-radiation therapy levels by the end of next week at the rate they’re going. Also decreasing are the number of trips to the toilet during both the day and night (about 2-3 trips each night). Hopefully, there’s still room for improvement there.

The less good news: The pain in my back, unfortunately, has intensified. Initially, it was a low-grade ache with occasional spikes in pain if I moved in an unexpected way. Now, it’s really become a more constant and prevalent ache, and it takes even less movement to set off a spike in pain. I’m guessing that’s related more to the ADT than anything else, and I’m trying to get some answers from my medical team.

Barring any hiccups, my plan is to get my blood drawn for my first PSA test during ADT and after SRT on Tuesday, 13 September. It’s probably premature (but that’s what the urologist ordered), and I have no idea what to expect. The ADT has had four and a half months to do something to my PSA, but the SRT has had only two weeks. Anyone care to guess?

As a refresher, my PSA was 0.36 ng/ml on 18 April 2022; the ADT was administered on 3 May 2022; and SRT ran 7 July – 26 August 2022. I’ll post the results as soon as I have access to them.

I have my follow-up appointment with the urologist on Tuesday, 20 September, and I just remembered that I need to call the radiation oncologist’s office to get on their schedule for late November or early December.

Be well!

Header Image: Oak Creek near Sedona, Arizona

Day 4,273 – Fatigue Fatigue?

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Radiation Therapy13 Comments

Okay. If this keeps up or gets worse, the fun will definitely be over. <sarcasm font>

Friday’s zapping session went amazingly well. From the time I closed my garage door, drove to the facility, got zapped, drove home, and opened the garage door it was 27 minutes. Total. We’re in the groove.

The kicker came in the afternoon.

My energy level just dropped to near zero and I went into a Rip van Winkle-like sleep for the whole afternoon. Not good. Even after the long nap, I was still pretty lethargic in the evening.

This morning (Saturday) was a different story. I was pretty energetic and worked on organizing my home office up until about noon. But about an hour into it, my energy level hit a brick wall and I was horizontal on the sofa again for a nap that lasted about ninety minutes.

The nap gave me a second wind of energy, but just a few short hours later around 6:30 p.m., I was dragging anchor again. (I’m powering through it right now as I write this so I’m not up all night because I napped this evening.)

I’m sure it’s a combination of the hormone therapy (started twelve weeks ago), the radiation, and the fact that I’m running to the toilet two to four times a night that’s causing all this. I’ve even started going to bed about two hours earlier than normal to try and make up for the sleep deficit through the night.

So, yes, I’m fatigued by the fatigue. I won’t say it’s incapacitating because I have pushed myself through a few low-energy sessions, but it is having an impact on my routine. I can only imagine what it will be like in three to five weeks if it keeps up like this. Sheesh! But, on the positive side: No hot flashes!

Monday’s session will be the one-third mark for the treatment. I guess that’s something to celebrate.

Be well!

Month 139 – Eligard Side Effects

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Radiation Therapy, Side Effects9 Comments

It’s been almost six weeks since my very first Eligard injection on 3 May 2022, and it appears that some of the side effects are kicking in. There are also some other things that I’m experiencing that I’m questioning. But first, a little detour…

I just returned from a monster 16-day, 5,357 mile / 8,621 km road trip from San Diego to Chicago and back. Each Memorial Day weekend, my sister and her family gather at a small lakeside resort in southern Illinois, along with a few mutual friends and their families. As I hadn’t seen some of my family members in four or five years, I decided it was time to return.

Not knowing what the side effects from the upcoming radiation and hormone therapy will be, I decided to have one last giant road trip fling for what may be the next year or so. If it works out that I can travel again this autumn, great. But I just didn’t want to leave things to chance.

[The photo above is Trout Lake in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado.]

Now back to Eligard side effects…

Fatigue is the most prominent side effect. I’m constantly tired to varying degrees, and there are times where I just push through it and there are times where I simply give in and take a nap. Thankfully, these really didn’t start kicking in until the tail end of my road trip on my return to San Diego.

I’ve also noticed a slight increase in the number of trips I make to the toilet in the night. The last six to nine months, things had settled down to where I could sleep through the night or make one trip. Now, though, I’m in the one to three trips per night range, with one night being four trips. That certainly doesn’t help with the fatigue.

On the positive side, hot flashes have not kicked in yet. That’s great because things are beginning to heat up for the summer here in San Diego and the last thing I need are hot flashes when it’s 90°+ F / 32°+ C outside.

There are two other things that I wasn’t sure if they’re related to the Eligard or not.

First, I’ve had a dull ache in my groin and testicles and, second, I’ve had this general, low-grade musculoskeletal ache in the right side of my torso. Both seemed to kick in on my return to San Diego.

I emailed these symptoms to my urologist, asking if they could be caused by the Eligard, and she didn’t seem to think so. She ordered an ultrasound of my testicles to see what may be happening there (scheduled for Tuesday), and referred me to my primary care physician about the ache in the torso. She didn’t see any reason why either should delay the salvage radiation therapy (mapping scheduled for Thursday).

My biggest concern about the mapping on Thursday is the timing of filling my bladder and being able to hold it during the process. Often, when my bladder is really full, there’s a strong sense of urgency to empty it, and there’s little time for error.

That’s about it for now. More to come after the mapping and, as soon as I figure out why Adobe Lightroom (photo editing software) is acting up on my computer, I’ll get my travel blog updated with my trip’s photos.

Be well!

Month 138 – So Far, So Good (?)

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Side Effects2 Comments

It’s been just over a week since I’ve been injected with my Death to Testosterone juice, a.k.a., Eligard, and things seem to be going okay so far.

The injection site was through being sore within a matter of hours after the injection, so that was a positive thing. (My arm was sore from my second COVID booster for about 48 hours after that injection.)

About the only real side effect from the Eligard that has kicked in is a bit of tiredness or fatigue. It’s as though I’m firing on seven out of eight cylinders right most of the time. Nothing that is debilitating, but it is noticeable. No hot flashes or wild mood swings yet.

I did email the radiation oncologist to let him know that I did, in fact, get the injection, and his response kind of hinted at the fact that it may take a few weeks for the Eligard side effects to really kick in. Time will tell.

As a diversion to all of this, I spent the afternoon watching the my hometown Chicago Cubs take on my adopted hometown San Diego Padres at beautiful Petco Park. I can’t say that I’m a huge baseball fan, so this is a once-every-few-years thing that I do when the Cubbies come to town. One day, I’ll make it to Wrigley Field for the first time ever (blasphemy that I haven’t been, I know).

I’ve got a few other fun things lined up between now and the start of the Zap Fest in late June and hopefully the Eligard side effects don’t kick in and ruin those plans.

A few photos from the game today.

Be well!

You may want to turn down the volume before playing. The pre-game music was a bit loud.

Day 4,192 – Eligard Injection

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Recurrence, Treatment15 Comments

This morning was not fun at all.

I checked in at 7:30 a.m. for my 8 a.m. appointment and was a bit nervous but doing generally okay. But around 8:05 a.m., the nurse came out and said, “I know you’re here for some medication, but the doctor forgot to enter the order for it to be administered into your record. We’re trying to track her down now and we’re not sure how long it will take.”

Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

About 8:45 a.m., the nurse came back out to the waiting area for another patient, and I interrupted and asked him the status of tracking down the doctor. “Oh. We haven’t found her yet. We’re trying to contact any doctor but most don’t come in until after 9 a.m.”

Still not a happy camper.

As you all know, I’ve anguished over the decision to move forward with androgen deprivation therapy (ADT) for a while now. Once you make that decision, you want to move forward with it and psychologically prepare yourself for the event. When you’re given an extra hour and a half, your mind begins to race and to question whether to move forward with this essentially irreversible procedure. At least that’s what my mind did. Call me silly.

The injection itself went well. In fact, it was not much worse than getting my second COVID booster shot last week (or any vaccination). It’s been about three hours since the injection, and the injection site isn’t even sore. It was pretty much a non-event. Time will tell what other side effects will kick in, and how severe they may be.

Well, the stress from this morning has worn me out. Time for a little nap.

More to come, I’m sure.

Be well!

Month 137 – The Decision

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Radiation Therapy, Recurrence, Treatment14 Comments

It’s been an interesting few weeks of conversations, concern, and coordination. But first a little digression that has been a factor in this whole process.

When I walked from my home to the radiation oncologist’s (RO) office back in mid-February, the nurse took my vitals and my blood pressure was elevated to the point it both surprised and concerned me (and the nurse). We chalked some of it up to “white coat syndrome,” and left it at that for that visit. Even if it was “white coat syndrome,” it warranted further investigation.

In early March, I started experiencing headaches and even some intermittent numbness of varying intensity on the left side of my face. A bit unnerving. I scheduled an appointment with the VA Urgent Care facility and they checked me out. My blood pressure was still elevated (but not as high as at the RO office), and she didn’t suspect that there was a TIA stroke going on. An MRI confirmed no abnormalities in my brain. (Sorry. I couldn’t resist this classic scene from Young Frankenstein. Anyhow…)

Obviously, trying to figure all of this out took precedence over scheduling salvage radiation therapy (SRT), but it’s also related to SRT and androgen deprivation therapy (ADT) because some studies have shown that there may be an elevated risk of cardiovascular events while on hormone therapy. With an elevated blood pressure and a family history it became a question that I wanted to pose to the RO.

RO Call, Tuesday, 29 March

You may recall that the RO told me that I could use the weekend to think about whether or not I wanted to proceed with concurrent ADT or just do straight radiation therapy. He said he would call me between 8 a.m. and 8:30 a.m. Monday morning for my decision. He didn’t.

However, he did call early Tuesday morning and apologized for missing the call on Monday. He said that the school his kids attend dropped their requirement to wear face masks, and they came home with a common cold and gave it to him. (Justification for continued mask-wearing.)

When we began the conversation, I told him that I was ready to do the concurrent ADT—in line with his thoughts—but I wanted to discuss what was going on with my blood pressure. He said that the cardiovascular risks were “extremely small,” especially with me scheduled to be on ADT for only six months.

I told him about my family history. My dad survived a heart attack at 54 and died in his sleep at 69. We never did an autopsy, but we suspect it was either a blood clot that let loose from major injuries he suffered in a auto accident sixteen months earlier or another heart attack that did him in. My paternal grandmother died at 69 from an aneurism on her heart, and my maternal grandmother died at 66 of a massive stroke.

I also let the RO know that I had been successful in losing 15 lbs. / 7 kg in the last few months and he reminded me that hormone therapy generally leads to weight gain if you’re not very careful.

After all of that, the RO’s enthusiasm for doing concurrent ADT waned and he was more inclined to suggest straight radiation by the end of the call.

At that point in time, though, I had not yet had my MRI—that was scheduled Wednesday evening—and I told the RO that I a) wanted to get the MRI results and b) talk to my primary care physician (PCP) about all of this once he had the results.

PCP Call, Thursday, 31 March 2022

In my call with my PCP, we agreed to put me on medication to help lower my blood pressure as I continue to lose weight. He also was able to give me the MRI results over the phone which surprised me. The technician told me it would take two to three business days to get the results, and he had them in about eighteen hours. Not complaining.

When I specifically asked him about the ADT and associated cardiovascular risks, he, too, said they were minimal. Even so, he was of the mindset to skip the ADT now mainly because of its other well-known side effects of hot flashes, enlarged breasts, weight gain, mood swings, fatigue, etc.

I thought that was interesting.

Urologist Call, Friday, 1 April 2022

Thursday, I emailed the urologist and update on all of this and asked for her insights. She called and we had a good discussion. She, like the others, said the cardiovascular risks were small and that the benefit of doing the ADT concurrent with the SRT was significant. She was definitely in the concurrent ADT camp.

When I spoke with the RO on Tuesday, one of the questions that I had was what drug would they use for the ADT. He thought the VA would use either Lupron® or Eligard®, so I confirmed that with the urologist. It would be a single shot of Eligard® that lasts for six months. Interestingly, she said the SRT could start about a month after the shot; the RO said he’d start SRT about two months after the shot.

I mentioned to her that I have an in-person appointment on 10 May and she suggested I could get the Eligard® shot then. Or, if I wanted to get it sooner, I could call for an earlier appointment.

Urologist Office Call, Monday, 4 April 2022

The Urologist’s office called to schedule the Eligard® injection. It’s set for 3 May 2022.

I did tell the scheduler that I had to have the final conversation with the RO next week, and that I would cancel the appointment if we decided to do the salvage radiation without hormone therapy. He was okay with that.

I will email the urologist to ask for a “before” PSA test to be done as a baseline starting point. I have some other bloodwork on order for my 21 April PCP visit, so I’ll see if the PSA can be added to that order.

Radiation Oncologist Call, Tuesday, 12 April 2022

One thing the RO told me when we last spoke was that he was going on Spring Break vacation with his kids, and wouldn’t be back in the office until 11 April. While he was out, I emailed him a summary of everything above.

We chatted for a good half hour this morning reviewing everything, and with the MRI results not showing anything, he moved back into the “leaning concurrent ADT” camp. His training is to tackle the cancer aggressively.

The Decision

Based everything, I’ve decided to go ahead with the concurrent ADT and SRT.

Barring anything goofy happening, the timeline going forward looks something like this:

  • 18 April – Bloodwork done for PCP visit, hopefully including pre-treatment PSA. (Still trying to get that added to the order.)
  • 21 April – PCP appointment.
  • 3 May – Eligard® injection.
  • 10 May – Previously scheduled in-person appointment with the urologist.
  • Mid-June – Perform body mapping.
  • Mid- to Late June – Start 7 weeks of SRT.

The RO said he’d have his team call me later this week to nail down specific schedules for the mapping and zapping.

Summary

I wish I could say that I was relieved at the end of the call this morning, but I wasn’t. This was committing to a course of action that I really wish I didn’t have to do. Life isn’t fair, I get it. I also get that it’s the right thing to do.

Wish me luck.

Timing of initiation of ADT for men with biochemical progression after first-line surgery — THE “NEW” PROSTATE CANCER INFOLINK

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Treatment2 Comments

An interesting study concerning the timing of Androgen Deprivation Therapy (ADT).

For many years your sitemaster has been advising patients that overly early use of androgen deprivation therapy (ADT) in many men with progressive prostate cancer is not necessarily the best decision (for a number of possible reasons). The benefits of such early ADT — in terms of metastasis-free survival (MFS) and/or overall survival (OS) — […]

Timing of initiation of ADT for men with biochemical progression after first-line surgery — THE “NEW” PROSTATE CANCER INFOLINK

Oligometastatic Prostate Cancer

On By DanIn Prostate Cancer, Recurrence, Treatment9 Comments

There’s a mouthful for you.

I had seen the term bantered about in one of the online support groups that I participate in, and one of the members posted a link to a video [below] put together by the Prostate Cancer Research Institute featuring Dr. Eugene Kwon from the Mayo Clinic. While this may be old news to some, it was new to me, and it was definitely worth the 29 minutes to watch—I learned a lot.

First, oligo means scant or few, and when cancer metastasizes, it doesn’t metastasize throughout your entire body all at once. It’s not like throwing the switch on the national Christmas tree so your whole body lights up in a scan. It starts small and spreads from there. The hypothesis is that, if you treat those early oligometastatic locations, you are much more likely to have a successful outcome. As Dr. Kwon says, it’s a lot easier to kill something small than it is to kill multiple resistant larger tumors.

Second, imaging technology has now advanced to the point where those oligometastatic sites can be identified for treatment. Interestingly, in Dr. Kwon’s experience, only 30% of the cancer that comes back is found locally in the prostate bed. To me, that is hugely important. (For the remaining cancer, 54% is distant metastases and, in 16% of the cases, the metastases are both distant and local.)

The current standard of care is to start salvage radiation therapy (SRT) without the benefit of advanced imaging, zapping the crap out of the prostate bed, with an apparent seven in ten chance that it won’t be effective. And, as an added bonus, you get those potential life-long side effects from the radiation.

Of course, after (or in conjunction with) SRT is androgen deprivation therapy (ADT). It’s palliative in nature and only prolongs life with even more side effects.

Dr. Kwon asserts that, if you go after those early oligometastatic sites—surgically removing “hot” lymph nodes or spot-radiating affected bones—those treatments can be more curative in nature. Curative is certainly better than palliative.

You can rest assured that I’ll be investigating more of this in the future and discussing it with my doctor in April.

Month 86 – Struggling

On By DanIn Emotional Aspects, Prostate Cancer, Recurrence, Side Effects6 Comments

First things, first. I’m struggling to thaw out after spending five days in frigid (-4° F / -20° C) Chicago with my sister and her family this past weekend. You may well be asking, “Who in their right mind flies from San Diego to Chicago in January?!?” Sadly, that would be me.

I contemplated returning for Christmas but had sticker shock on the cost of the airfare, so I opted to return for my birthday last week at a quarter of the cost. This birthday was one of those annoying milestone birthdays—the 30th anniversary of my 30th birthday—and that definitely warranted an appropriate celebration. Of course, anyone in our situation knows that any birthday you’re around to celebrate is a good birthday.

But what I’m really struggling with is this whole notion of recurrence and what to do about it.

I’d like to think that throughout my life I’ve been a generally optimistic, my glass is half full kind of guy, but one with a healthy dose of reality attached to that optimism. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, and recognize the inevitable. I understand the value of a positive attitude, however, I’m increasingly finding that I have a diminishing tolerance of false optimism. “You got this. You’re going to kick cancer’s ass!” Really? Are you sure about that? How do you know? And at what cost? The $109,989.11 invested in my prostatectomy (the real number, mostly paid by the insurance company) doesn’t seem to be paying off.

The costs that I’m talking about aren’t just financial, either. There are emotional and physical costs as well.

With salvage radiation therapy (SRT)—the only option that still has a curative potential—there’s the risk of increased incontinence, loss of sexual function, bowel control issues, and fatigue during the treatments. Chatting with other patients in online forums or through their own blogs, some of these issues don’t manifest themselves until well after the SRT treatments end. And all of this for a 30%-55% chance of having no evidence of disease five or six years after SRT ends.

With androgen deprivation therapy (ADT) (hormone therapy), there’s the loss of libido and sexual function, mood swings impacting relationships, hot flashes, loss of muscle mass, increased risk of osteoporosis, and significant depression. Of course, ADT is not curative, so you get to suffer through those substantial side effects for a longer period because ADT prolongs your life.

It’s easy to get excited when you see your PSA plummet after starting ADT, as it impacts those androgen-dependent cancer cells. But guess what? There are also androgen-independent cells floating around that the ADT won’t impact at all, and it’s those cells that will start driving the PSA back up again and that will ultimately kick your ass.

Being a data-driven numbers guy, I’m also struggling with how to quantify these potential impacts on quality of life.

When you’re in an online or even in-person support group, you have to remember that there’s a self-selection bias taking place that will skew your perspective to the bad. Think about it. Almost everyone who’s in the group is there because they’re at some stage of dealing with this disease and having issues that need answers. Who you don’t see are those patients who are outside of the group who have success stories in dealing with their cancer and have simply stepped away from that chapter of their life.

For me, I want to know the ratio of who’s in the group versus those who are outside the group. Is it like an iceberg with 10% of the patients in the group being the visible ones and 90% of the success stories out of sight? Is it 50-50? 30-70? 60-40? Knowing the answer to that helps me understand the risks better.

I’ve stumbled across a few studies that talk about the likelihood of potential side effects from SRT but I would like to see more. The risks do seem to be relatively low from what I recall and from what my doctor is telling me, but forgive me if I’m skittish about accepting even low risk given where I’m at. (My surgeon forewarned me that there was a 20% chance the cancer would return; I guess I’m just not feeling all that lucky at the moment given my track record.)

Similarly, with ADT, it seems that most everyone suffers some form of side effects, but each person is impacted differently. Again, the numbers guy in me would love to see some sort of study that says, “While on ADT, my quality of life has been reduced by __% in each of the following areas…” I’ve heard patients say that they are “just a shell of the person I was once” or that the ADT has them remaining in bed 20 hours a day. Of course, there are others who seem to have only mild side effects with negligible impact on their daily lives. What’s the distribution like between those two extremes? Knowing the answer to that would be very helpful in decision making.

Given all that, I’m struggling with one more thing, and it may scare or even offend some readers.

“You’ve got plenty to live for. You need to fight. You need to be strong. You need to be a warrior and defeat this disease,”—all things that I’ve heard along the way. There’s this pervasive attitude that other patients, family members, and the healthcare system have that we must do everything we can to go on living for as long as we can at all costs.

Why?

Please don’t panic and think that I’m ready to check out tomorrow. I’m not. There is plenty to live for, and that is precisely why I ask the question.

Is being a shell of yourself and staying in bed 20 hours a day really living, or is it merely existing? Would you rather live a more full, active life for 8-10 years, or merely exist for 20 years?

What about the impact on your significant other and those closest to you? Yes, they’ll be by your side every step of the way. Do you think they would rather remember your last years as being present and engaged for 8-10 years, or withdrawn, moody, depressed, and barely capable of functioning for 20 years?

What about the financial impact on your family? Would you rather take a few bucket list trips with your significant other and family in your remaining 8-10 years, or would you rather take out a second mortgage on your home to pay for the drugs and latest technology tests that will keep you existing for 20 years, placing a financial burden on those who survive you?

Before you send me all sorts of hate mail, I know those are extreme examples and that there are many shades of gray between the extremes, but, in the absence of studies or data that mitigate those examples, that’s what’s rattling around inside my analytical, pragmatic mind at the moment—right or wrong. It’s just the way I’m wired. The good news is that I have time to find those studies and data that hopefully will give me the information I feel I need to make decisions going forward.

It takes strength to go through the radiation, ADT, and chemotherapy if that’s the path that you choose. It also, however, takes strength to say, “No. I’d rather live without those debilitating side effects for as long as I can, even if it means it will be for a shorter period of time.”

Thirteen years ago, my mother was diagnosed with mesothelioma, the incurable cancer associated with asbestos exposure. She was given the option to participate in some clinical trials that may have extended her life three to twelve months, but she refused. “I don’t want to be someone’s pin cushion when the end result will be the same.” She wanted to retain control over her life for as long as she could, and she did so to the best of her ability. Sadly, though, it was only a matter of months before she died, but she went out on her own terms.

That’s how you kick cancer’s ass.

I would like to think that I’ll be able to do the same.

Just a note. Because I knew I would be traveling, I wrote this post over a week ago. While I was in Chicago, a fellow prostate cancer patient, Mark Bradford, replied to a question in an online support group, and it’s complementary to the topic of this post. The question posed was, “At what point do you get tired of fighting?” He replied:

I dislike framing this as a fight. You have a disease, and you seek treatment for [it] till you decide to stop. Being in treatment is not fighting and stopping treatment is not giving up. I was inoperable from the beginning and stage 4 soon after. My outcome was certain, so my priority was quality of life over quantity. I did HT [hormone therapy] until it stopped working, and cannabis oil throughout. I refused chemo as it would not cure me or significantly extend my life. Don’t let anyone say you’re giving up if you decide it’s time to stop treatment. I could not afford alternatives, so my choices were limited. If you have the means, do whatever seems right to you. But accepting reality is not giving up.

I don’t think that I could agree more with Mark’s comment about framing this as a fight and about being in treatment or stopping treatment.

Mark is nearing the end of his life, and you can read his very poignant blog, God’s 2 by 4: Mark Bradford’s Cancer Journal.

Another patient, Dan Cole, answered simply and succinctly: “Live the life you choose to live. That is winning the fight.”

I know I’m getting way ahead of where I should be given my current status but, if nothing else, this disease certainly causes you to prematurely contemplate your own mortality.