What I'm Doing

Trying To Turn An Anvil Into A Grain of Sand

I'm trying, but failing miserably, so please turn on the following symphony and listen to it as you read the following:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFZoaTCrggQ

If you've been reading long enough, you know that I begged our family doctor to do a PSA test on my husband over 2 years ago to no avail. By the time we got the results from the Urologist a month ago (1-25) that my husband had aggressive prostate cancer, it wasn't a surprise. 

I suspected, and I think my husband suspected, that it wasn't just the prostate. With a PSA of 120 (Normal is 4!!!), and a gleason scale of 9 (on a range of 1-10, with 10 being the worst) the likelihood of it being in just the prostate was very slim, but one can hope and pray, and that's what we and others did.

There was a pelvic CT/MRI on 2-8, to see if the cancer has metastasized to the lymph system, followed by a bone scan on 2-15 to see if it had spread to the bones. I was allowed to watch the bone scan, and was relieved to see no "hot spots." {picture} (https://myhealth.alberta.ca/Health/pages/conditions.aspx?hwid=zm6038) Cancer in the bones is almost always a quick and dirty death sentence. Still, there was the pelvic CT/MRI that I didn't watch, and that was a concern for me.

We arrived at the Urologist's office on Friday, and instead of the usual large office with all the surgical equipment, we were ushered into a small room with a cute painting on the wall. Here it is:

Yes, they're all eating donuts! Oh, and my husband is smiling in that picture. 

So, we waited, not very long, either, and before the Urologist could say anything, I asked a few questions, because, honestly, I knew he told me, but it's all been so overwhelming that it never registered. It's funny how nice people are when they realize you're dying. He was very soft and patient with me,  so I knew he had something unpleasant to say. Why else would he put us in such a bright cheerful room?

He started out with the "good" news but didn't call it good news (those are my words), there were no "hot spots" on the bone scan, (which I already knew) so the cancer hadn't spread to the bones, and I waited, dreading the next one.  Then he said, "Unfortunately, the cancer has spread into your lymph system." My husband just sat there as tears started to roll down my face. I cried silently, as the Urologist said he would send the results to our PCP, who would refer my husband to an Oncologist and a Radiation Therapy Doctor.  My Husband got up and handed me a tissue, and told me "Don't cry honey." I don't think he realized how serious it was at the time. I thanked the Urologist for being so kind, and we left. 

Once we were outside, I started to cry again, still silently, and I asked him if he knew why I was crying. Then I told him that he was just given a death sentence with 6 months to maybe 2 years to live. He didn't say anything, but went on like everything was okay. It was 9:30 when we left and headed home, and I felt like I had gone through a full day. Since I was so upset, my husband insisted (as did my Friend) that I go and spend the weekend with my Friend. Who was I to object? When we got home, I went down for a much-needed nap. Just as I was about to get up around 1, my Husband came in the room, got into bed, and holding me, began to cry. Loudly.  The reality finally hit him.  The last time he cried prior to that was 3 years ago, about a month after the death of his Mother. I just held him and reassured him that I would keep my promise and take care of him. 

I've done quite a bit of crying since then, including a few times while writing this, but I feel I have good reason. I decided to wait until today to write this because it was just too fresh on Friday.  

I have a huge mental list of things I need to do, things he needs to do, and meetings with various family and Family members. 

And, as always... we wait.