Video: “Playing the Long Game” – Does your Recurrent/Advanced Prostate Cancer Need Treating? NCI Seminar

One of the best things about keeping this blog going over the years is learning new information from you, the readers.

Recently, a reader left a link to this video in the comments of one of my recent posts. It highlights the work that two doctors from the National Cancer Institute (NCI) have been doing when it comes to assessing whether and/or when to treat patients with recurrent/advanced prostate cancer.

The video is about an hour long (I changed the playback speed to 1.25x to get through it a little faster) and was very timely for my current situation.

One of the interesting parts was the discussion on how to define metastatic prostate cancer. It’s still pretty squishy if you ask me.

It will be interesting to see what the oncologist says tomorrow.

Be well!

Header image: Anza-Borrego Desert, California

Day 5,623 – FDG 18 PET Scan

Well, that was a surprise at 3 p.m. on Good Friday afternoon.

A resident from the urology department called to let me know that she had reviewed my email with the original urologist and, after consulting with the nuclear medicine department, they came to the conclusion that I made a strong case for me getting an alternate scan.

Unfortunately, the VA doesn’t offer the Axumin scans, but they do offer Fludeoxyglucose F18 (FDG) PET scans which are also reliant on PSMA for the ligand to attach itself to.

She said that the F18 ligand interacts differently than the 68-gallium does, so it’s possible that it will attach to the PSMA molecules on the cancer cells. (In a prostate cancer forum, one patient was in a similar situation. The 68-gallium scans didn’t work for him, but a Pylarify PSMA PET scan did.)

I know from earlier reading that F18 FDG scans aren’t as sensitive and may not work best in a recurrent cancer situation, but they definitely won’t pick anything up if we don’t do them. She offered to put the order in to do one, and I said yes.

I’ll give nuclear medicine a few days next week to receive and process the order before calling them to schedule the scan.

I thanked the doctor at the end of the call and she, in turn, thanked me for advocating for myself.

I’ll post more when the date is scheduled, and I’ll be putting my list of questions together for the medical oncologist appointment on 14 April.

Be well!

A little reading: Is There Utility for FDG PET in Prostate Cancer?

Header image: Anza-Borrego Desert, California

Day 5,616 – Ugh.

As soon as I hung up the phone with the doctor yesterday, I started memorializing our conversation in Google Keep while waiting for my turn in the barber’s chair, and that was the outline I used for last night’s post about the conversation.

As I said last night, I had planned on documenting the conversation in an email to the doctor this morning. I drafted what I thought was an accurate, reasoned response but, before I was going to send it, I wanted to see if I could get his take on the conversation in my patient notes. I logged onto the patient portal and found his notes from the conversation.

Apparently, the doctor and I have had a massive disconnect.

He mentioned our discussion about Axumin scans, saying, “that this is not recommended at this time given prior negative PSMA PET imaging and the limited likelihood that Axumin would provide additional clinically actionable information.”

He also referenced our discussion about Pylarify scans, saying, “he recently underwent PSMA PET and that repeat advanced imaging would not be expected to change immediate management. Will review timing/appropriateness of repeat PSMA-based imaging if PSA continues to rise.”

He closed his comments with a recommendation to see Hematology/Oncology.

It was like a sucker punch to the gut—I had a genuine physical reaction to reading his notes.

This tells me two things.

First, he is not convinced that there is such a thing as a PSMA-negative patient for whom PSMA PET scans won’t work. That view is reinforced by his comments yesterday that he was confident my cancer expresses PSMA. In his mind, the 68Ga-PSMA-11 PET scan is definitive in its findings.

Second, it tells me that he isn’t pursuing any alternate imaging at all. Just let my PSA continue to increase and try again with another PSMA PET scan.

Needless to say, I discarded my draft e-mail to him, stepped away for most of the day, and have just been trying to process how to proceed. Of course, I’ll re-write my email to him politely highlighting the disconnect between our versions of the conversation.


I wish I could understand his reluctance to believe that I may be PSMA-negative. A quick search last night gave me a handful of papers from reputable organizations on the topic:

The clinical characteristics of patients with primary non‐prostate‐specific membrane antigen‐expressing prostate cancer on preoperative positron emission tomography/computed tomograph

Finding Metastatic Prostate Cancer that Doesn’t Make PSMA

The Blind Spot of Prostate-Specific Membrane Antigen Positron Emission Tomography Staging? Intraductal Carcinoma of the Prostate Is Overrepresented in Patients With No Uptake Pattern on Prostate-Specific Membrane Antigen Positron Emission Tomography and High-Grade Prostate Cancer

The oncological characteristics of non-prostate-specific membrane antigen (PSMA)-expressing primary prostate cancer on preoperative PSMA positron emission tomography/computed tomography

Normal Variants, Pitfalls, and Artifacts in Ga-68 Prostate Specific Membrane Antigen (PSMA) PET/CT Imaging

Of course, there’s a lot of gobbledygook that goes way over my head in those papers, but the common theme is that PSMA-negative patients do exist and that affects imaging. They only possible distinction that I’ve come up with from briefly skimming those papers is that more aggressive cancers seem to express more PSMA than less aggressive cancers. Maybe the doctor could confirm that or educate me.

Of course, the Prostate Cancer Research Institute has a video on this very topic:


What’s next? I’m thinking that I’m going to pursue two parallel paths, one within the VA and one outside of it. Both will likely take weeks if not months to pursue. (I’m not panicking about this, but I also don’t want to keep kicking the can down the road without doing anything to guide our decision-making, especially seeing as my PSA doubling time seems to be shrinking.)

Within the VA, I’m going to:

  1. Write the urologist and let him know that I came away from our phone call with a completely different take.
  2. Push to get the appointment with Oncology and hope to enlist them as an ally in trying to get an alternate scan sooner rather than later. In the in-person meeting, the urologist seemed to be deferential to their opinion.
  3. If neither of those result in any action, I’ll meet with the patient advocate at the VA and see if that can break the log jam either within the VA or by allowing me to gain community care outside of the VA.

Outside the VA, I’ll look at:

  1. Identifying what’s needed to become a patient at UCSD. It may not require much, as they did my salvage radiation therapy almost four years ago.
  2. Try to set up an appointment with the medical oncologist that the VA consulted when we talked two years ago.
  3. Get his take on alternate imaging.

I will tread very carefully because I don’t want to screw up any eligibility for care within the VA by going outside the VA or create confusion as to who is really taking the lead on my care. That’s why it’s really best that, if the VA can’t or won’t pursue additional screening, that they are the ones who initiate the request for community care. It’s something I need to research.

So that’s how I’m going into the weekend. How about you?

Be well.

Header image: Anza-Borrego Desert, California

Day 5,615 – Doctor Call

As I was driving to the barber to get my hair cut (both of them), my phone rang. Normally, I avoid phone conversations when I’m driving—even the hands-free, Bluetooth variety—but when the Caller ID popped up on the infotainment screen as being the VA Medical Center, I answered because I thought it might be the Oncology scheduler calling to set up an appointment.

Instead, the call was from the urologist I met on Tuesday to talk about his research and efforts to pursue an Axumin scan. (I sent an email to him yesterday saying that I did a little legwork for him and learned that UCSD still does Axumin PET scans in case the VA didn’t.)

In a nutshell, he contacted the VA nuclear medicine department and, according to him, they were very elusive with him in saying whether they even had the ability to do the scan at the VA and, even if they did, if they would do it considering the PSMA PET scans have replaced it in their minds.

Then the doctor again put his faith in the PSMA PET scan and thought that the Axumin scan wouldn’t provide any useful information. He also mentioned that he looked at the 10% of patients not having PSMA protein and said, from his quick research, it seemed to only been identified in a single study. Unfortunately, that was said at a time when I was more focused on driving than listening, and I’m sure I didn’t fully understand what he was trying to convey.

I was finally able to safely park and give 100% of my attention to the conversation, and he said one other thing that puzzled me. He seemed confident that, because my PSA was rising, I did, in fact, have the PSMA protein. I’m not sure that I agree with that and need to do some digging.

We did talk about having a Pylarify PSMA PET scan which uses a different tracer than the 68-Ga-PSMA-11 PET scans. He thought that that could be a possibility, but wasn’t sure that the VA offered it yet. He knew it had been FDA-approved, but thought that the VA hadn’t developed the protocols for its use yet. I mentioned that when I spoke with UCSD yesterday, they said they had the ability to do Pylarify scans, too.

I asked him about how I might get a referral from him/the VA for me to get the scan on my own, and he thought that there may be a number of bureaucratic hoops to jump through to make that happen, including determining if something was “medically necessary.” He wasn’t exactly sure of the process, especially if I was going to use my own insurance (Medicare).

I just wanted him to confirm that, in his view, there was value in getting a scan to learn the location of the cancer and what it’s doing. He agreed.

I told him that my goal was to find the cancer and, if there were one or two lesions, to do spot radiation to knock them down if they’re in a suitable zapping location. That may help delay the start of ADT. (Or not. I’m not sure if they put patients on ADT when going after oligometastatic lesions.)

Finally, he did ask if I had been scheduled with the oncologist yet, and I have not. He was interested in hearing what they had to say about scans.

Needless to say, the waters have been muddied and I’m a little less confident that I know what’s going to happen next.

I’ll send him an email in the morning recapping our conversation, with an emphasis on his agreement that having a scan at this point is important. Translation: Medical necessity. I’ll also let him know that I’m open to trying any scan that he thinks will work.

I may also ask him to explain again why he is convinced that I have the PSMA protein and why he’s skeptical of the 10% number.

I’ll also try to connect with the oncology schedulers and get that appointment on the books.

I may also look at what it takes to get myself in as a patient at UCSD through either their urology or medical oncology departments. Because UCSD did my salvage radiation therapy in 2022, I may still be in their system, so it may be less difficult than starting from scratch. I’ll have to figure out how to share my VA health records with UCSD if needed.

The saga goes on…

Be well.

Header image: Anza-Borrego Desert, California

Day 5,593 ½ – Scan No. 4 Completed

My fourth PSMA PET scan is in the books. If I keep this up, I should join a PSMA PET scan loyalty club—have five scans and get the sixth one free.

It started with me drinking 500 ml of water two hours before the the scan. On arrival, I was weighed (I guess to help calculate how much Gallium-68 to inject?), and the tech started an IV. He walked away and wheeled in a cart with a small, lined box containing the injection syringe, and pushed the glow juice into my arm through the IV.

Once the juice was in, he removed the IV, and I leaned back in my recliner for the hour-long wait for the juice to make its way through my system. At the end of the hour, we headed to the scanner room where I emptied my pockets, jumped on the scanner table, and got strapped in so my arms wouldn’t move.

The scanner wasn’t claustrophobic for me, and it took 41 minutes to run up my body (they start at the thighs and work their way up to the head).

When I was through, I hopped off the table, collected my things, and headed home.

I have to admit that when I walked out of the hospital, I was really surprised by how much my body and mind unwound from the apparent subconscious nervous tension I was harboring. Going into it, I didn’t seem fazed by it all. It was routine for me. Heck, I’m on a first-name basis with the nuclear medicine tech (we’ll call him Sam) because he’s done all three of my scans at the VA. But apparently my subconscious had a different experience. Oh well. Nothing a good nap won’t cure.


I asked Sam how quickly the results would be available, and he said it could be as soon as this afternoon, but within 48 hours if they’re not.

From my previous scans with Sam, I’ve learned to not even think of asking him if he saw anything of concern during the course of the scan. He resoundingly (and rightly) always answered that it’s up to the doctor to interpret and provide the results.

I’ve also come to know that, for Sam, bedside manners seem to be optional. He’s not unprofessional in any way, but he is all business and sometimes even borders on the grumpy side. As I was leaving, Sam said something in such a way that he let his tough façade down. His voice became just a hint softer as he said, “You take care now” in a caring way.

Of course, that caught my attention and got my mind racing. I’m really, really, really trying not to read too much into that and get ahead of the actual results, but he said it two more times before I left. That makes me wonder what he saw that may have changed his demeanor.

Of course, my exhausted Gallium-68-infused brain may be making all this crap up, and I may get a good laugh out of it in a day or two. Or not.

As usual, stay tuned for the next chapter in this saga. I have my appointment to go over the results on 24 March.

Be well!

Header image: Anza-Borrego Desert, California

Month 182 – PSMA PET Scheduled

I held off on this post until I was able to get my PSMA PET scan scheduled this week.

I had been playing phone tag with the scheduler and, when I finally got to speak with him, I learned that they normally don’t schedule until 30 days in advance of the request date. Because the order for the scan said March, they weren’t going to call until next month. Fortunately, because we were already on the phone, the scheduler went ahead and put me on the calendar for 4 March 2026.

That should give enough time to interpret the results before my 24 March appointment with the urologist. I’ll go for a PSA test just before the scan on 2 March.

I continue with my pelvic floor physical therapy every other week. I’m not sure that it’s been having an effect on my incontinence, so I’ll have to ask how long it takes before I have any truly noticeable improvement.

Other than that, there’s not much else to report. Just another day living with prostate cancer.

Be well.

Header image: Anza-Borrego Desert, California

Day 5,522 – Urologist Appointment

Late last week, I received a text message asking if I would like to move my urologist appointment from 30 December to today, 23 December, and I agreed.

My appointment was at 3:15 p.m., and I arrived around 2:45 p.m. As I’m walking up to the check-in kiosk, my cell phone rings, and it was the urology department wanting to confirm that I’d be there. That’s the first time that that’s happened, and I told the nurse that I was checking in as we spoke. “Great! We’ll come out and get you.” Apparently, they were antsy to get out of there early on the day before Christmas Eve. So was I.

The head of the department was the one who saw me this time, and we had a really good conversation. Some of the key takeaways:

  • She was concerned about the increase in my PSA but not panicked, even initially suggesting we just continue to monitor it.
  • We talked at length about doing another round of imaging to see if we can determine the location of the cancer.
  • We agreed to do another PSMA PET scan, and we negotiated doing one in March 2026. (She thought that Nuclear Medicine might push back on doing one sooner, i.e., within a year, as the last one I had was in March 2025.) She also mentioned the possibilities of other imaging should the PSMA PET scan come up with no evidence of cancer/metastasis for the fourth time.
  • We talked about the timing of starting androgen deprivation (hormone) therapy. She wouldn’t start it until there was evidence of metastasis, but was open to starting it earlier if I really wanted to do so.
  • Lastly, we reviewed my stress incontinence and nocturia issues and talked about my pelvic floor physical therapy.

It was one of the more thorough discussions that I’ve had at the VA, and I’m okay with the plan coming out of the meeting. I’ll go for another PSA test on 1 March; hopefully get the PSMA PET scan scheduled in early March; and have a follow-up with the urologist on 24 March.

I’m glad I got this out of the way before the holiday. I’ve got my answers, plus it frees up next week for me to go out an play if I want.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and be well!

Header image: Hotel del Coronado at Christmas, Coronado, California

Month 179 – Urologist Discussion

Well, that went about as I expected.

In a nutshell, we’re punting the ball another three months down the road.

The doctor commented on the continuing rise in my PSA and said after consulting with the doctor who saw me last time, said that he wanted to recheck my PSA in six months and “wait a year” for another PSMA PET scan. I should have asked for clarification on that, but I think he was referring to waiting a year after my last PSMA PET scan in March 2025 and not a year from today.

I wasn’t entirely comfortable with waiting another six months, so we agreed to test PSA again in December (three months after my September test) and go from there.

We also talked about spot radiation if anything pops up on the scan. He seemed a bit reluctant for that to be an option, and went straight to starting hormone therapy. It’s as though he was making the transition from curative options to management options, and, to be perfectly honest, I believe I made that transition in my own mind once the salvage radiation failed. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t try zapping a lesion or two if they popped up on the scan depending on location (no more zapping to the pelvis and risking further bowel complications).

We did talk about my experience with hormone therapy during the salvage radiation, and the timing of starting it this time around. In that discussion, he brought up the topic of bringing in a medical oncologist at some point depending on the scan results and my PSA test results.

We talked at length about my urinary frequency and some options for that. He suggested some pelvic floor therapy might be beneficial, so I said I’d be willing to give that a try.

Overall, I’m okay with where we’re at and the planned course of action for now. I’ll go for my PSA test in early December, and if there’s another significant jump, I’ll press for the PSMA PET scan to be done sooner rather than later.

My next scheduled urologist appointment is 30 December 2025.

Be well!

Header image: Sunset, Imperial Beach, California

Day 5,256 – Doctor Visit

I had my post-PSMA PET scan visit with the urologist today, and I wasn’t really sure what to expect going into it.

The doctor (same as last time) shared the scan results saying that they’re something I should celebrate. I mentioned, though, that I have had three scans and were inconclusive despite the rising PSA numbers. He was quick to reply by saying that the scan not showing evidence of prostate cancer or metastasis was conclusive.

I understand where he’s coming from, but until we know where the cancer is, I’m going to have a difficult time accepting that perspective.

I did ask whether there was some sort of test that can determine if my cancer doesn’t express PSMA, and he said that there wasn’t. Something in my pea-sized brain tells me I need to double check him on that.

I also asked if there could be another explanation beyond the cancer that would explain my rising PSA. He ruled out the possibility of some residual prostate tissue being left behind after the surgery as being the cause based on my PSA kinetics over time.

In terms of what’s next, we’re kicking the can six months down the road for another PSA test and follow-up. I was a bit surprised that he wanted to wait six months, and suggested doing the test in three or four months. He was a bit insistent on the six month window. He felt comfortable with my current situation—the slight increase in my last PSA test from the previous one and my PSA doubling time—that waiting six months wouldn’t be a problem. He also argued that having a longer period between tests would better reflect what’s going on.

As we wrapped up, he reminded me that the scan results were good news, and I know that he’s right in that regard. I’ll work on changing my own perspective going forward (even though those little cancer bugs are still doing their thing inside me.)

My follow-up appointment is on 30 September 2025.

That’s it for today. Be well!

Header image: Cherry Blossoms, Japanese Friendship Garden, San Diego, California

Day 5,237 – PSA and PSMA PET Scan Results

I’m so over this.

Click to enlarge

On the whole, the news is good. My PSA just barely bumped up from 0.94 ng/mL in January to 0.95 ng/mL in March and, taking the last five readings, that increased my PSA doubling time from 7.7 months to 10 months.

The PSMA PET scan revealed “no evidence of prostate cancer or metastatic disease.”

So, if the news is good, why am I “so over this?”

I was really hoping that this third PSMA PET scan would bring some clarity as to where the cancer was located so we could know how to proceed—even if it meant revealing metastatic disease. It’s frustrating because we know the cancer is somewhere and because we know the PSA almost tripled between 19 January 2024 and 16 January 2025, but we don’t have enough information to do anything about it. It’s just more waiting in limbo.

Of course, having had three PSMA PET scans all turn up negative makes me question if I’m in that “lucky” category of ten percent of patients whose prostate cancer doesn’t express PSMA, making the scans useless for me. It’s something that I’ll definitely discuss with the doctor at my next appointment on 1 April 2025. I vaguely recall that there’s some sort of genomic test that may be able to assess if I really do fall into that ten percent. I’ll have to do some research on that.

Maybe, too, I’ve placed too much faith in the scan’s ability to detect anything at my PSA level. But with a PSA level hovering around 1.0 ng/mL I thought we would have a decent chance of detecting something (chart below).

Detection Rate on a Patient Basis Stratified by PSA and Region Tr indicates prostate bed only; N1, pelvic nodes only; M1, extrapelvic only. Proportion of patients with 68Ga-PSMA-11 PET positive findings were stratified by PSA range and region of disease in accordance with PROMISE. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30920593/

Needless to say, I’m truly glad that my PSA didn’t rocket even higher and that my scan didn’t light up like Times Square. Having definitive answers, though, would be the icing on the cake.


As far as the PSMA PET scan itself, it was pretty easy and took two hours to go through the entire process. I was instructed to drink 500 ml of water starting 2 hours before the scheduled scan time, and that was the only preparation needed.

I arrived at the hospital at 8 a.m. and was brought back to a radiation-proofed exam room where the technician started and IV at around 8:15 a.m. The 68Ga tracer was ready for injection around 8:40 a.m.

Around 9:30 a.m., the technician brought me back to the scanner where I got positioned on the bed and we began the scan which took 45 minutes. The scanner was very quiet (I could have dozed off) and large enough that it wasn’t claustrophobic. I was out of there by 10:15 a.m. and on my way home. Piece of cake.


On a related note, this was the longest it’s ever taken me to get the PSA test results posted online (hence the delay in this post). I actually called the clinic to get them over the phone because they still weren’t available online today (Thursday). The nurse I spoke with was very helpful and said, “We’re facing staffing issues and, well…” stopping herself in mid-sentence, probably remembering that the call was being recorded and not wanting to make a statement about the current environment for VA employees at the moment. I fear that this may be a precursor of things to come.

Be well!