What The Urologist Said

First, an apology. Christmas and the New Year ate up my time, but as you will soon discover, maybe it's better this way.

So, here it was, one week and one day after Thanksgiving, and on the drive to the Urologist, my inner child was upset.  She asked difficult questions and cried as I tried to focus on driving, and let me tell you, driving and crying isn't a good mix.. One inside the Urologist's office, my husband and I tried to make light conversation, but my gut was tied up in knots. My gut is rarely wrong. The whole "What if?" litany of questions went through my head.

It reminded me of when I had to deal with my mother's breast cancer.  We knew something was up, because there were so many tests done to her, so we agreed in advance to "Hope for the best, and Plan for the worst." So when Mom was actually told, we looked at each other, smiled, and scheduled the surgery. A full-on mastectomy, because we didn't want to take our chances.

And here I was, sitting in the Urologists office, and reminding myself to hope for the best, and plan for the worst, but knowing that I saw the invisible sign on the door 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.'

I just don't know how doctors do it. He walked in, smiled, said hello, and then went over how MRI's of the prostate are graded. For a brief moment, I relaxed. Then he went on to explain what each "grade" meant.  He looked at my husband, and said "Yours is a grade 5."

Taken from Prostate Cancer Research Institute (https://pcri.org/whats-new-in-prostate-cancer-a-clinical-perspective/):
"The radiologist reading the MRI images of the prostate assigns a score on a 5 point scale to express the probability of high grade, aggressive cancer being present. If the score is 5/5, the possibility of an aggressive tumor is > 90%."

Yes, I bolded the possibility of an aggressive tumor just to show that I'm not overreacting.

We looked at each other and then the Urologist and asked "What's next?" He told us a biopsy had to be scheduled along with a followup in two weeks minimum, and he sent us to the clerk. As we waited, my husband said, "Well, we shouldn't be too surprised. After all, I smoked for 40 years."  My thought was something I won't write here.

Scheduling was a bitch! Between my husband's work schedule, the Urologist going on vacation, and the upcoming holidays, the soonest that a biopsy could be scheduled was January 7th in the late afternoon. That's Monday. 5 weeks ad 3 days after the MRI results were given to us. Did I mention how anxiety provoking that is? Then we wait until the 25th in the morning, which will mean that by the time we have any definite answers we will have been in this hellish limbo for 8 weeks. Honestly, I just want answers so I can plan accordingly.

Do I sound heartless and uncaring? Do I sound selfish? I don't mean to. The truth is I'm afraid. Afraid of being without my husband. Afraid of the decisions that will have to be made.

For now, I wait...