It’s been fifteen years since I was told those three little life-altering words on 11 November 2010: You have cancer.
The good news is that I’m still here and able to write about it. The bad news is that I’m still writing about it. (I want a refund.)
Fifteen years of being poked and prodded. Fifteen years of being scanned and zapped. Fifteen years of riding an emotional roller coaster waiting for the next test or scan result. Fifteen years of researching far more than I ever imagined researching. Fifteen years of making decisions that impact the quality and quantity of my life, and hoping they were the right choices.
In other words, fifteen years of fun. <sarcasm font>
On the positive side, it’s fifteen years of getting to know how strong I can be. It’s fifteen years of adapting to new circumstances and making the best of them. It’s fifteen years of learning to not look back and question decisions already made. It’s fifteen years of forming new relationships with those in the same boat. Most important, it’s fifteen years of waking up every morning and starting a new day when so many others with this disease didn’t get that option.
And, because I valued others with prostate cancer sharing their experiences, it’s fifteen years of telling my story via a silly little blog that I had no idea would keep going for this long. Mind-blowing. Helping others by sharing my story was my way of making lemonade out of lemons.
In three weeks I’ll have my next PSA test. Hopefully, with the follow-up appointment on 30 December, we can map out the next steps to keep me around for another fifteen years.
Finally, sincere thanks to every one who has supported me over the last fifteen years. I appreciate it more than you know.
Be well.
Header image: Milford Sound, New Zealand











