Month 191 – Calm before the Storm

It’s been a busy time since the last regular monthly post, but in a good way.

I managed to unplug for five days by taking a trip to chase autumn colors in the Eastern Sierra using Bishop, California as my base. I was a week or two early, but still managed to find some good colors. When I returned, I was Mr. Social Butterfly, going to one of the San Diego Padres’ last home baseball games; attending a friend’s birthday party; going to our monthly trivia night with friends at a favorite watering hole; and then watching the Padres beat my hometown Chicago Cubs, all in my first week back. It was good to disconnect and be distracted for a while. I needed that.

Before leaving on my trip, I participated in an online advanced prostate cancer support group run by the AnCan Foundation. (I had featured one of their videos on this blog back in April.) Within the group, there were a few doctors but pretty much everyone else were fellow prostate cancer patients sharing their experiences.

There was a ton of information that was flowing, so it was a tad like trying to take a sip of water from a firehose, but I did come away with some valuable input. Key points included:

  • Different experiences on different ADT + ARPI drug combinations when it came to side effects. The consensus seemed to be Orgovyx® and darolutamide were the preferred combination.
  • There was also a recommendation for me to push to get an Axumin PET scan given the four negative PSMA PET scans and the negative [F18] FDG PET scan.
  • One of the members strongly encouraged me to connect with Dr. Matthew Rettig who operates out of the West Los Angeles VA Medical Center and UCLA. (When I searched on “best prostate cancer medical oncologists in Southern California,” his name was number two on the results.)
  • They encouraged me to more thoroughly investigate a VA disability rating given the changes in how prostate cancer is addressed under the PACT Act. That’s low on my priority list for a variety of reasons that I won’t go into here.

I have to admit that, given my trip, my social calendar, and my need to unwind from both, I’ve been a bit slow in digesting the meeting’s contents and determining how I want to proceed.

Dr. Rettig’s opinion would be valuable at some point, and I’m just figuring out how and when to do that. I have the CT and bone scans scheduled next month (see below) and, to be honest, I don’t expect that they’ll show anything. I’m thinking that a set of negative results on those scans would give me strong justification for getting an Axumin scan and for the referral to Dr. Rettig. I can say, “I tried what you recommended. Now let’s humor me and find a way to get the Axumin scan.”

The VA can be a bit rigid in its protocols and procedures, and I’m inclined to go through the medical oncologist at VAMC San Diego to get the referral to VAMC West Los Angeles. I don’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes, or finding out that I’ve inadvertently transferred my full-time care to Los Angeles. (The 147-mile / 236 km drive between home and VAMC WLA is brutal.)

For now, I’m content to wait the six weeks until the scans, get their results, and then push to see Dr. Rettig and go for an Axumin scan if needed. I should have an updated PSA test result at that point, too. Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind. 🙂


As I’ve been writing this post on Friday night, 9 October, I’ve had one ear open on the forecast for Tropical Storm Rachel, which should be arriving in the San Diego / Tijuana area in about 24 hours. The National Hurricane Center issued a Tropical Storm Watch for San Diego, and this is only the second time ever that a tropical alert has been issued on the west coast. (The last time was in 2023 for Hurricane Hilary. The last time a tropical system actually made landfall on the California coast was 1939.)

UPDATE 5 P.M. PDT, Saturday – Rachel’s forecasted track has moved a bit to the east. Friday night, it was going to pass about 17 miles / 27 km from my house near Tecate; the current track has it passing about 85 miles / 137 km east of my house near Mexicali.

It looks like the brunt of the storm will kick in around 11 p.m. and last through about 10 a.m. tomorrow. One forecast model shows wind gusts in my neighborhood will get up to about 45 mph / 72 km/h. It the mountains east of San Diego, it’s showing they may get up as high as 90 mph / 144 km/h.

The reason I’m so interested in tropical systems is because I rode out Hurricane Iwa which hammered Oahu (where I lived) and Kauai in 1982. It was quite the unnerving experience, About 2 years later, one of the ships I was assigned to got caught up in the periphery of a typhoon while we were at sea, and waves washed away one of our inflatable life rafts. Experience tells me to heed the warnings and take precautions. Better safe than sorry.

More to come. Be well!

Rachel’s Track Friday Night
Rachel’s Track Saturday afternoon

What’s Next

DateEvent
23 November 2026CT and bone scans
1 December 2026PSA Test
8 December 2026Medical oncologist appointment

Header image: North Lake near Bishop, California

Month 158 – Bone Scan

We last left our hero and his urologist lamenting about the VA protocol requiring a bone scan prior to authorizing a PSMA PET scan to try to determine the location of his growing cancer…

Well, things fell into place a little quicker than I expected. I had my bone scan on Monday, 8 January 2024. As expected, the results were:

No abnormal uptake of tracer is seen to suggest osseous metastatic disease.

That’s a good thing. At least it didn’t light up like a Broadway marquee showing metastases everywhere.

I have a follow-up with the urologist on 13 February, and I’ll have another PSA test done in advance of that meeting. The only thing that’s unclear to me is the scheduling of the PSMA PET scan, so I just emailed the urologist to clarify.

In his notes from our December meeting, his plan was to do the “Bone scan and PSMA PET; Follow-up in 6 weeks; and PSA test in advance of the follow-up.”

I asked if he wanted me to complete the PSMA PET before the February meeting, or if he wanted to review the next PSA result and bone scan results in February before scheduling the PSMA PET scan. Hopefully, I’ll have an answer soon.

I have yet to share the bone scan results with the radiation oncologist. I’ll just wait until we have the PSMA PET scan nailed down before contacting him.


Mentally, I’m doing okay with all of this. I’ve reconciled that this is the path that I’m on, and we’ll just take one step and one test result at a time and go from there. That’s not to say that there aren’t days when I get anxious about the unknown ahead. I do. But I’m getting much better at not dwelling on the fact that this is happening.

Other than that, since my last post, I’ve learned that making homemade tamales is an hours-long labor of love; I made a quick trip to Yosemite at Christmas; I completed another orbit around the sun; I’m on tap for possible jury duty next week; and I have family coming to visit in early February. 2024 is off to a busy start.

Stay tuned for more to come…

Header Image: Yosemite Valley from Tunnel View, Yosemite National Park, California

Day 3,908 – Bone Scan

Today was the day for my bone scan, with two appointments to make it all happen.

The “Juice”

I had a 10:15 a.m. appointment to get the radioactive juice (oops, contrast) injected into my system so that it had time for the scheduled 1:45 p.m. scan.

I’ve learned over the years that you have to have a little fun with those sticking needles into your arm, so I asked the nuclear medicine technician, “Has anyone ever started belting out Debbie Boone’s You Light Up My Life as you inject this stuff?”

He looked perplexed, but was old enough to know the song I was referring to.

“Uh, nope. You would be the first.”

“There’s no way I’m singing. I clear dogs from a three county radius when I do.”

He chuckled, turned the valve on my IV, and let the juice “light me up.”

The cool thing was that I checked in at the front desk at 9:50 a.m. and was walking out of there at 10:15 a.m., the time of my appointment. All done.

The Scan

As I was leaving the morning appointment, the tech told me to drink plenty of fluids, and to come back at 12:45 p.m. instead of 1:45 p.m. Not a problem.

As we walked back to the scanner, he said, “Let’s get some pictures.”

“Oh. Just like my high school yearbook, except those were taken using a Daguerreotype camera.”

Without skipping a beat, he chimed in, “By Matthew Brady?”

Of course, being a native Illinoisan with an affinity for all things Abraham Lincoln and, to a lesser extent, the American Civil War, that resonated with me. [For my international readers, Matthew Brady was a photographer who pioneered photojournalism during the Civil War, and took a number of portraits of President Abraham Lincoln.]

That caused me to relay a story of when I was working at the San Diego Natural History Museum, and, when a kid learned I was from Illinois, he asked, in all earnestness, “Did you go to school with Abraham Lincoln.” Ouch!

As far as the scan was concerned, it went well. Strap me in, slide me in, and poof, we’re done in about 45 minutes or so (I never really looked at the clock to time it). But he did want to get a second run of my pelvic region. Apparently, my bladder filled with radioactive juice and he didn’t have a clear image of what was going on. After a quick trip to empty my bladder, we got a much better view.

Of course, I had to ask, “Did you see anything like Petco Park lit up at night?” [Petco Park is the baseball stadium for the San Diego Padres professional baseball team.]

He reluctantly deferred to waiting for the doctor’s interpretation, but then he offered, “I didn’t see anything.”

“Good. I won’t hold you to that,” I said.

I’ll start looking for the results online over the weekend and will post when I read them.

Have a great weekend and be well!

Day 3,892 – Scan-a-Palooza

Let the radioactive fun begin!

I was able to schedule my bone and CT scans this morning with considerable ease. In fact, things will happen much sooner than I thought they might. My CT scan is scheduled next Wednesday, 14 July, and my bone scan is scheduled Friday, 23 July.

I have to go for some pre-scan lab work tomorrow afternoon to ensure that my kidneys are working fine and won’t be damaged by one of the contrasts.

I haven’t given up on the Ga-68 PSMA PET scan. In fact, I wrote my health insurance company an email about 4:30 a.m. as I tossed and turned. (Last night was hell. If I slept more than 2 hours—non-consecutively—that was about it.) They tout having a response within 2 business days, so we’ll see if they come through with that.

UCLA is out of network for my insurance company, so I’d have to cough up 40% of the cost if they’re going to cover it at all. I’m okay with that. (For my overseas readers, welcome to U.S. health care systems!)

So that’s the latest and greatest. More to come, I’m sure.

Be well!

Day 2,019 – It’s Official

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

 

Month 66 – Cancer Survivorship

I was going to use this interesting article from the New York Times: Cancer Survivors Celebrate Their Cancerversary, as a basis for last month’s regular post, but then I got my PSA results and things went to hell in a hand basket. After reading the article, I originally wrote:

Regular readers of this blog know that I’m one to remember dates and anniversaries, but I generally fall into the category of reserved celebration, I guess. Yes, I’m around to hit another milestone, but that damned little cancer recurrence cloud will be over my shoulder for the rest of my days.

Little did I know that that cloud would begin to grow in size, mirroring the growth of my PSA.


It’s been a difficult five weeks, and I’ve struggled with what to write for this post. That’s because I’m still struggling to figure out what’s happening and just how I’m responding to it. It’s hard to articulate something when you haven’t exactly figured out what you’re feeling. It’s been all over the place.

The raw emotions have subsided, but there have been two lasting side effects of the notion that my PSA is creeping closer to recurrence.

First, it’s been as though I’ve taken a bad spill and the wind has been knocked out of me. I feel as though the I’ve been sprawled out on the ground, disoriented, for the last month, trying to regain my breath before I can get back up and function normally again.

Part of me wants to simply stay on the ground, but the other part of me is trying to snap me out of that mindset and to engage in life at full speed ahead. As the surgeon, John Healy, in the NYT article said:  “Everybody dies,” he said. “But not everybody lives. I want you to live.”

So do I.

The second side effect has been that the anger remains at various intensity levels. My fuse is generally shorter and I don’t tolerate silly very well at the moment. And “silly” can be even the littlest of things. I really have to watch how I interact with those around me so as not to have them bear the brunt of my frustration with my current situation. I’m not the same person I was in March.

Keeping this hidden from those around me may be adding to that sense of anger, so perhaps it’s time that I come clean with them. And if it doesn’t alleviate it, at least they’ll know why I’ve turned into someone who will give Jeff Dunham’s curmudgeonly character, Walter, a run for his money.


My baseline bone scan is scheduled for 19 May, a week from tomorrow. I’m not overly worried about it at the moment. Of course, I’m sure there will be more than a twinge of “what if” while waiting for the results.

I just realized that we didn’t schedule a follow-up visit with the urologist to review the results. I’ll have to get that sorted.

Day 1,990 – Quick Update

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.