"Live Life" Despite Cancer

There's a joke that goes, I went to the doctor the other day, he said "I have good news and bad news, which do you want first?". The patient said, "Let's start with the good news.". The Doctor says, "You're gonna lose some weight".

It was August 15, 2016. I had completed a barrage of tests over the previous few months and my wife, Mary, and I had taken off for a long weekend at the lake. We were on our way home when my Urologist at the time called from a well known Washington DC hospital. He said that he normally tried to do this is person, but felt he needed to call right away. We heard the diagnosis on the speaker phone of the car. Mary and I were emotionally blunted with his words.

Hearing the word "cancer" is something that is hard to explain, unless you have gone through it personally, but hearing "stage 4" in concert with that statement knocks you into an almost numbed state of mind. Suddenly the entire universe is viewed differently. Is there any hope, how long do I have, what about my wife and kids, what about our future?

A linkedin blog cannot allow me the time to cover all that follows, but I thought I would share at least what I learned from that last year of multiple chemo treatments, radical prostate surgery, hormones, and radiation every day for 8 weeks.

Here are a few views of my experience in the rear view mirror to date:

1. Get annual physicals with a PSA test: I always had them but in 2015 at a hospital in Fairfax Virginia, they "forgot" to do the PSA. I cannot tell you how much I regret missing that year and not going back to have them finish their job. Its really important.
2. Get a second opinion: If I had stayed with the first Urology team and hospital that diagnosed me in Washington DC, this would have been a faster death sentence. Medical treatment is not consistent and had I not found this team at Johns Hopkins I would not be in remission right now.
3. Live: Dr Pienta, my urological oncologist at Johns Hopkins Hospital is so right - live life. Get every minute possible of family time and personal enjoyment when you have cancer. Don't dwell on a death sentence, even with stage 4, as it will happen sooner. Live life. It's important.
4. Attack the cancer with attitude and conviction: Let's be real, the chemo waiting lounge, and the radiation waiting lounges are really hard. But your personal attitude focused on the fight is important. Mental strength is absolutely critical.
5. Get your employer to support you if possible: Recovery from chemo treatment is really hard. Recovery from surgery is really hard. Daily radiation is perhaps the most challenging from an endurance standpoint. If you can work remotely and negotiate this in advance, you can make it all more manageable. Your health needs support from those around you and this is physically challenging in ways only those of us who have endured can understand.
6. Share you struggle: I have met many who choose not to tell anyone and keep it all to themselves. Don't do this. When you share the impact of cancer with your friends and your loved ones you realize how loved you are and how much support you have. Plus, cancer is something almost everyone has experienced on one way or another. Share the story. It's as helpful to you as it is to others. I have many men who have called me about their personal stories of how I prompted them to see a doctor.
7. Workout as much as you can: Exercise is cleansing. It helps the mind. And during treatment any exercise is a lifeline. Even if just aerobic, do it.....long walks, a few weights, maybe a run if you can stand it. Yell at the cancer while doing it, and show it you are stronger.
8. Finally, meet friends: I made friends in both the chemo and radiation waiting rooms. Cancer is an evil disease that does not care about class, sex, race, religion, or age. It is the most terrible of lonely conditions and threatens way too many lives around the world. Talk to people, talk to strangers while there. They are as lonely, and scared, as are you. Loneliness comes from knowing that no matter what, the physical experience is yours alone and the uncertainty of the future is unique to you. Talking to others makes the entire experience better. We learned to laugh in the radiation waiting room...all so us in our robes waiting to be called...."another day at the spa", I used to say. Medical care can be impersonal when staff deal with this day in and day out. They care too, but they are more numb to the fear of reality that you face and need to get people in and out in a timely fashion. Share exerpiences, hopes, vacation plans, and more with friends in the waiting rooms.

There is much more to say. My wife and kids have been critical to all of this. Mary has been through this journey with me facing the other side of what happens....if.....and joining me in meetings with doctors - taking notes when I could not truly listen - and being my partner in this, as have our children. They were there with my surgery, supporting me every day, Mary was at my side through each Chemo treatment. The stress on Mary and my family has been equal to mine in so many ways.

I kept a daily log for a long time. But I still have stage 4 cancer and it is likely to come back some day according to my doctors, but I spend every day focused on the fact that I am in full remission today. I plan vacations, look forward to seeing my family, caring about society and other friends, and trying to live my life to the best that I can.

Cancer may get anyone of us ultimately, but medical advancements, attitude, and so much else that drives the human spirit can make the difference.

This is my journey, our journey of my family and me, not yours. But it is one I wanted to share. To hell with cancer - for now I choose to live. Until my next blood test in 90 days - until then - its time to enjoy.

What's your story?