Doing What's Best For Me

Sometimes The Burden Is Too Heavy

In the early morning hours of Thursday (4-4) it started.  The chest pain and feeling of dread.  I didn't want to wake my husband. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but I was frightened. I laid in the dark, afraid to wake him or bother him. After all, he's been going through enough, and I didn't want to bother him even though I was very much afraid.

About an hour after the pain started, he woke up. I knew he would wake up eventually, because he rarely goes than 2 hours at night without needing to pee. The prostate cancer has had that effect on him. When he got up and turned on the light, he knew there was something wrong with me, and he asked.  I told him, then I said I didn't want to call 911. We simply can't afford the extra expense now, so he drove me to a hospital a few blocks away. 

Okay, I admit it, I looked horrible, between my  purple hair that somehow looked greasy, added by the fact that I had mismatched socks, and I wasn't brought in by an ambulance, I was treated like I was a drug addict or alcoholic. My denials fell on deaf ears, and I was pissed, but the chest pain was getting worse, and I was afraid. I was sent to give urine in a bathroom with a "broken sink."  My request to have my blood taken by a butterfly was ignored as well. It started out bad.

Once they got my history (diabetes, high blood pressure, etc.) I was treated less like an addict, and more like someone with a legitimate complaint. I was told to remove my necklace and wedding rings. They did an EKG and chest x-ray, and took more blood plus an IV, and I was sent up to the ICU 3 hours after going into the ER.

Once I was in the ICU, I sent my husband home. Every 2 hours they took more blood, and I was injected with a blood thinner. The diet was restricted fat, sodium and sugar in spite of the fact that my diabetes is under control.  I met with the dietician later in the day who agreed that my blood sugar (115) and A1C (6.5) meant that I could have regular sugar, but no caffeine.  I had an echocardiogram, and there was a stress test scheduled for Friday. 

About 4:30PM, I was told that I was being transferred, and my nurse asked if I requested it.  Why would I do that? I was close to home, and it was convenient for my Husband.  At 5:30, I was told that I was being transferred by the case manager, who apparently knew about it around 2PM, but waited until then to tell me. I was not happy.

The new hospital wasn't bad, but I was put in a room with an elderly lady who had at least 10 visitors at the time, and they were LOUD.  I'm quiet, I live with my Husband and ex-husband and they are quiet.  I'm a private person. This was unacceptable, and I requested a room change, which  fell on deaf ears (laughs) Fortunately, most of them cleared out by 10PM, and I was told that I had to be NPO after midnight. I asked for a snack (not unreasonable, because I barely touched my dinner) and I was told the doctor hadn't approved anything. Finally at 11:45, I was given a sandwich, some juice, and some chocolate pudding. A heart monitor was attached.

When they came in to draw my blood at 6:15 in the morning, the noise started.  Loud Spanish programming that even the earplugs couldn't hide. Loud anything bothers me. Apparently my roommate's daughter spent the night, and didn't even consider that maybe I needed to rest. It took some meditation, but I finally fell back asleep.

The stress test was bad. Chemical injection that made me want to puke, tears rolling down my face, and a general feeling of unease. Then another test, but I fell asleep, so I can't say much. I was returned to my room at 10:30, and given grapes, rice krispies (no milk at my request) and juice. I was told they arranged for me to get an early lunch, but I said it wasn't necessary. At 11:30, my blood sugar was tested and it was 220, completely understandable, but they wanted to give me insulin.  All I could think about was my girlfriend and what happened to her, and that it was utterly stupid to give me insulin, so I yelled at the nurse, and yelled "There's no fucking way you're going to give me insulin!" She backed away, apologized, and let me be.

The attending doctor came and told me I could go home, because it looked like I was having muscle pain, and it wasn't my heart. I got home about 3PM and I've been doing my best to relax.  I did attend a dinner with friends Friday, and did some light grocery shopping, and stopped at the pharmacy on Saturday.

In the meantime, I've been thinking about other things and people who have been adding to my stress level, and while I haven't unfriended anyone, I have "muted" a few on Facebook and other social media. My health is more important than watching the activities of others.

Plans for the week include calling my GP for a followup on Monday, taking my Husband for the full body CT scan and brain MRI on Tuesday, Donna getting groomed Wednesday, Weekly Dinner with Friends on Friday, and a Memorial on Saturday. 

::Takes deep slow breaths::

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=36uSJlBmYVo

A Pleasant Surprise

Note To Readers:

I purposely held off on writing this until now, because, well, yesterday was April Fool's Day, and some of what I'm about to share might seem unbelievable. I know that I had a few "jaw drop" moments.

Oncology Visit Report (4-1-19)

This was scheduled with the plan that the brain MRI and full body CT would have been done, and we could discuss results. As I mentioned in my last journal entry (https://alostwifesjourney.blogspot.com/2019/03/last-week-you-ask.html) a week ago, it wasn't happening anytime soon, and, in spite of my daily calls, it hasn't gotten any better.

I've been feeling awfully burdened (https://alostwifesjourney.blogspot.com/2019/03/some-nights-are-like-this.html) by all this. I mean, I'm human, and nothing at all like the "Superwoman" I often portray in public. I frequently find myself grasping for invisible lifelines that just aren't coming, and it's exhausting. I realize I'm frequently exhausted. The insomnia coupled by the constant worry has had an effect on me.  This appointment turned out to be an answer to my prayers (and probably the prayers of others) We were handed a "lifeline" and the both of us are taking it for all it's worth.

The first thing on our personal agenda was getting the Social Security disability papers filled out and signed. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that my Husband is eligible for disabled parking as well. His energy level is so low, and even getting out of bed is hard for him. When the Oncologist told us and offered to do the paperwork, it put a smile of relief on my Husband's face. Really, he rarely complains, but it's been a rapid downhill slide over the past few months.  I see it, and it scares me. 

No, the paperwork wasn't the lifeline, neither was the parking permit.

The next thing on our agenda was to have the Oncologist look at a rather large abcess that mysteriously appeared last week.  He diagnosed it as MRSA, and prescribed a very strong antibiotic.  Unfortunately, combined with my Husband's blood pressure medication, it has a side effect of elevated potassium levels, so he will have to restrict his intake of potassium.  Unfortunately, I learned in recent months what effects elevated potassium has on a person, because it caused a dear friend to wind up in the ICU not that long ago. I will have to be hypervigilant for the next two weeks.

After that, we discussed the blood test results from 2 weeks ago (pre-treatment). This is where it all gets interesting: Apparently, my husband's Vitamin D levels are extremely low.  His result was 11. Normal is at least 30. It adds to the normal fatigue of cancer, adds to depression, and contributes to his pain levels.  It was definitely a lightbulb moment. It was decided that he would take a high dose Vitamin D supplement once a week. Since it's a special order, it will take a day or so for the pharmacy to get it.

Next was Testosterone levels.  My Husband is 62, and most men his age have a level of 200. In other words, decreased testosterone levels are common, and since prostate cancer is related to increased testosterone levels, he was placed on anti-androgen (anti-testosterone) medication.  His level came out as 330. Another AHA! moment. Most men his age would be envious. Except, that's why his cancer is so aggressive.

Finally, (and this was the biggest "jaw drop" moment, and much-needed lifeline) we were given the PSA levels. In January, they were 120. As mentioned before, normal is 4, and since my husband had received NO TREATMENT until his last appointment, there was a concern that the levels would be drastically higher, and the higher the levels, the less "time" there is for him to get life-saving treatments. "Time" is our only hope right now. The lack of "time" is my obsession, my worry, the thing that keeps me up at night, the reason for my tears and frequent feelings of hopelessness. He saved the best for last.  My Husband's PSA level was 98!  Yes!!! 98! 

My question and my Husband's question (and probably yours too) was How???!!! The human body is amazing, and PSA levels will fluctuate some. That's what happened in this case, and it buys us a little more time. I'll take it!

Future Plans

We were told to not worry about changing the MRI and CT scan to a sooner date, the next Oncology appointment is Tax Day (4-15) and the results will be in by then. We understand that just because the PSA levels have lowered it doesn't guarantee that there hasn't been a bigger spread of the cancer, so we're still hoping for the best, but we're also working on a bucket list.

The Casodex (anti-androgen medication) will continue, but the next visit will mark the beginning of the Lupron injections, which will eventually replace the Casodex completely.

We still have so much to do, but the fact that the Oncologist is being transparent with us, and explains everything, it makes this much easier for us. 

Maybe we can breathe, and for the first time in a while, the waiting isn't quite as scary.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3blT1IRafU

Last Week, You Ask?

Making The Struggle Worth The Hassle...

I'm not made for emotional pain and heartache. It destroys me to the core. The situation with my Husband's prostate cancer has all but destroyed me in so many ways, yet I still come out fighting. Fighting for him, because when it all comes down to the basics, he is MY Husband. MINE!!! and there isn't a single person on earth who will feel his loss as much as me, or even the same way that I would. Keeping him alive and feeling well is my number one priority. I might destroy myself in the process, but as long as he is alive and feeling well, I win. I would gladly sacrifice my life for him, and these aren't just words on a page or a computer document. I mean it, and unless you've seen me, the whole me, you have no idea just how strongly I feel that.

Now, before I go off on a tangent, One of the final things the original GP did was refer my Husband to an Oncologist. This wasn't just an Oncologist, but one of the best and highest rated in the area, but we didn't know that. All we knew was that this Oncologist was local, and he had a funny name. The appointment was on Monday last week (3-18), and after all the stress, we didn't have very high hopes. The pile of paperwork they handed to my Husband was more than he's ever filled out before. When he was called in, we went into a nice exam room and waited. My emotions have been all over the place, and my husband has been guarded in showing his since the last breakdown in tears over a month ago, and this Oncologist with the funny name put us both at ease, and he listened. Being heard is the one thing that was lacking with our original GP, and I've had it with false reassurances. I want the truth, my Husband wants the truth, and both of us want to do whatever we can so my Husband lives as long as possible, and stays feeling well.

The Bad News:

I'm not a fool. I spent years caring for people who were close to death, and I've seen more than my share of people dying, so when the Oncologist said that if my husband went untreated, he could expect to live "maybe a year." I wasn't surprised. I kind of expected it. After all, my Husband had advanced aggressive metastatic prostate cancer that is in his lymph system.

The Good News:

The Oncologist said that the first line of defense was prescribing an anti-androgen medication that would reduce the testosterone in my Husband's body, because prostate cancer feeds on testosterone. Casodex taken once a day decreases testosterone production.

The Treatment Plan:

According to the Oncologist, Casodex will often stop the prostate cancer in its tracks. Lupron injections will be used as well, but sometimes Lupron will actually increase the testosterone levels at first, which is why they start with Casodex. Another side effect is that his hair on his head might even grow! (yummy long hair!) That made me smile, because I love my Husband's long hair, and I was afraid it might fall out. Apparently not with the starting treatments.

Tests Ordered:

1. Blood tests for PSA and Testosterone as a start, because there's a good chance that those have both increased, and the goal is to get the PSA to 0 (zero) This will be done on a regular basis.

2. Full body CT scan to find out how much the cancer has metastasized. Ordered as URGENT but we're still waiting on insurance to approve the test.

3. Brain MRI to determine if the cancer has metastasized to the brain. Ordered as URGENT but we're still waiting on insurance to approve the test.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The NEW GP:

Strangely enough, my Husband's new GP also has a funny last name, and when I tell people they laugh, because one is the opposite of the other.

Negative Things:

Parking is difficult to find. We also had to wait in the waiting room for about an hour, and then another hour in the exam room.

Positive Things:

When the doctor came in, he was thorough. In fact, he spent over an hour talking and asking important questions, including about the prostate cancer. He ordered a full panel of blood tests for my husband including blood sugar, A1C, liver function and kidney function, plus a few others I can't remember. He was definitely worth the wait.

How We Feel:

We finally feel like our concerns are being taken seriously. We're feeling much more positive and good because both the Oncologist and GP are actively listening and involved, and not leaving us in the dark. Yes, this is an uphill battle, and I've been under extreme stress, and it has affected my general health, but I know it will get better. My husband is slowly starting to talk about things, and I think that our relationship will only improve. No longer feeling helpless, I'm speaking up, and (finally!) my husband is too. We also jointly decided that appointments are to be made in the early afternoon.

Still, we wait, but no longer passively.

Keystone Kops Capers

For a little history, go to:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keystone_Cops

If you've been reading what's been going on, I'm sure you understand why I refer to all this as the Keystone Kops.

I've put off writing this in hopes that time would ease my anger, and, in a way, it has, but but when I decided to write this blog, I wrote it with the intent that this would be an honest account of what's been going on, along with my hopes, fears, and frustrations.

I've cried a lot over the past few weeks, my sleep has been fucked up, and I've been really afraid, and it's all been for good reason. Cancer is scary. The only thing more frightening is incompetence. I've dealt with both, and it's taken its toll on me. I look like shit.  Friends have told me that I look sick and tired. (I wonder why?)

When I last posted, I mentioned that the Urologist was going to send paperwork to the GP (the one who adamantly refused to do a PSA test in the first place) for a referral to an Oncologist.  The GP cancelled and rescheduled the appointment with my husband THREE TIMES!!! (Who me? Angry? Understatement!) So finally the day arrived, and I think the doctor purposely made it his last appointment (5:30PM) just to further aggravate me. So, when we arrived, the office was empty of patients. Because my husband was no longer employed, he was on Covered California Insurance (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Covered_California) and when he checked in with the new insurance, we were informed that the GP could not see him, because his insurance wasn't accepted there. 

We've had this doctor for over 4 years. The Receptionist and Medical Assistant know me well, and I saw the shock on their faces when I walked up to the desk, and said in a sharper than normal tone:

"What did you just say?! Are you telling me that my husband can't be seen by the doctor? You are aware that my husband has aggressive prostate cancer, and that it's metastasized to his lymph system, are you not? If my husband fucking dies before he can get to an Oncologist, I will hold you personally responsible!"

They looked a little scared, because they had never seen me that angry before.  I continued:

"This is MY Husband, not someone off the street, and doctor (name redacted) has the information needed, and I don't know how long all the transfer of information will take. Do you really want the responsibility of his death on your hands?"

They looked even more frightened.

"Are you telling me that you won't accept cash for this appointment? How much do you need? This is my husband."  

At this point, tears were running down my face. I was really worked up.  

"Cash is $140" said the Receptionist. I told them we had it, and they escorted us into the exam room. On the way in, I apologized for being so upset, but reminded them that if the situation was with their husband, I'm sure they would react the same way.

Apparently the GP didn't know about the scene I caused in the waiting room, because he came in all smiles. I told him that the Urologist sent him paperwork about the prostate cancer.  The smile disappeared, and he had the nerve to lecture my husband on not getting a PSA test done sooner! He placed all the blame on my husband! I not-so-gently reminded him that I had requested a test well over 2 years ago, and many times thereafter. The GP had his receptionist check to see who would accept the new medical insurance, and sent a referral to a local Oncologist. Attached was this note from the Urologist:

As you can see, I redacted all identifying information. When we went to pay, they reduced the price for the visit from $140 to $80. I thanked them again, and we left.

With that done, we just had to wait another 4 days for my Husband to see his "New" GP.

The "New" GP

So, the appointment with the "New" GP was scheduled for 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning. I noticed when we got there that the cramped waiting room had seating for a dozen people, and we took the last 2 seats. Soon, it was overflowing with at least 20 people, most of them speaking too loudly in various languages and there was a distinct odor of unwashed bodies. I was far more disturbed by the odor and overflow than anything else. Then the noise got to me. I'm hypersensitive to noise, and after 2 hours of waiting, my patience was wearing thin. When he finally got called in, they explained that the doctor set one appointment time for everyone and that is why there was such a long wait.  My husband is hard of hearing, and his sense of smell is shot, so he didn't even notice what had me so disturbed, but when I repeated to him what he was told (louder, because the nurse was practically whispering) he told her that he was leaving and not coming back.

When we got home, he called and requested a new doctor, explaining the conditions at the waiting room of the doctor he was assigned, and explained (again) about his cancer, and the urgent nature of him needing to see a Doctor that could take care of his needs.  He was reassigned a new doctor, and called for an appointment after the weekend was over.

And again, We Waited...

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.

Forward and Onward!

Cancer sucks. I think we can all agree with that.

My Husband's pelvic MRI/CT scan was done yesterday. It was stressful for the both of us, and I was tempted to stay home because I was so tired, but I pushed myself, and went out. The bone scan is scheduled for Friday, and requires 2 separate appointments. The first one is 11:30, the next one is at 4PM. I have decided that if I am half as tired as I was yesterday, I will not be doing a repeat performance of going out.  I can't take adequate care of him if I keep pushing myself, so I will do what I can when I can.

Add to this that his last day at work was Thursday night. It has nothing to do with the cancer. His employer started laying off non-essential personnel in December, and because he was essential he was kept.  They cut off his medical coverage effective January 31st, but didn't notify him until January 28th. This past Monday, he applied for medical coverage under Covered California, and when he got to work on Monday night, he was informed that the doors were closing effective Friday (yesterday) I'm sure at least one person is wondering why he didn't look for another job seeing the writing on the wall, but think about it:  What employer is going to take an employee with a cancer diagnosis, especially one with an indeterminate ability to work?  Not many.

I worry about all this, and I don't think anyone would blame me. This isn't a pity party, it's just what is going on. But I do have a favor to ask of you: If you're a male over 50, insist on getting a PSA test done. It's a simple blood test, and it can save your life. If you know a male who is over 50, encourage him to get tested.  

One last favor, Love, prayers, positive vibes, etc; is greatly appreciated, but there's no quick fix for this nightmare.  I promise that if I need something, I will ask for it. If you don't mind listening to me worry out loud, let me know, but remember, the key word is listen.  

Thank you for reading this, and thank you in advance for getting that PSA test for yourself or a loved one.

Some Relief

So, yesterday (Monday) after taking me to the Ophthalmologist, my Husband applied for Covered California, and got a much better plan for less than what he had been paying through his employer. It was a nearly 2 hour ordeal, but it's over now.

We also got the referrals and appointments for the Pelvic CT scan (We originally thought it was an MRI) on 2-8 and the bone scan (requires TWO appointments, several hours apart) on the 15th. THEN we can make an appointment to see the Urologist and plan on treatments. (hopefully) 

At least the waiting won't be too long.

In the meantime, tension at home is building up, and I know I could ease some of it (maybe) if I was able to word my feelings in a coherent way, but the words escape me, and I have jumbled thoughts.  Sometimes "I Love you" is just the beginning of what needs to be said.

How This Happened AKA: Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda

Unlike many men, my husband sees out Family Doctor on a regular basis. I insist on it. Unfortunately, now that things are where they are, I realize that he listens but doesn't hear. 

However, like many men, my husband would masturbate occasionally, and in January 2017 when he almost casually mentioned that there was blood in his semen, I was (naturally) alarmed. He was going in to see the doctor anyway, so I had him tell the doctor and he listened, proclaimed it a UTI (urinary tract infection) prescribed antibiotics, and ordered a urine test. This was in spite of me requesting a PSA test. (https://www.mayoclinic.org/tests-procedures/psa-test/about/pac-20384731) Our doctor said it was way too expensive an often inconclusive. He didn't even give a digital rectal exam. Naturally I was upset, but I thought maybe the doctor knew what he was talking about.

Over the months, my husband's sex drive went lower, and he blamed his age, but, again, I was concerned. The doctor sided with my husband, and I was the odd one out, so I was ignored. After all, the bleeding was no longer taking place, and he was feeling fine. I've watched people who were "feeling fine" die, only to find out that they were seriously ill and didn't know it. I was accused of being an alarmist, but hey! He's my husband, and I was concerned. I mean, how difficult is a PSA test anyway? The doctor did all sorts of other tests on a routine basis, so why not just do it to shut me up? 

Then, just about a year ago, my husband was up every hour urinating. Prostate! I said, Diabetes! said the doctor. Fine, but would it be so difficult to do a PSA test? I hate it when I speak up and I'm ignored like I'm a stupid child. I was beginning to resent the doctor. In January 2018, my husband actually had a UTI. BUT he also mentioned a decreased semen output. Antibiotics again, and the doctor said my husband might need to see a Urologist. In May 2018, my husband again mentioned the deceased semen output, and that it "looked funny." Again he doctor said my husband might need to see a Urologist. My husband was finally starting to see that maybe my concerns weren't so farfetched. Finally, in September 2018, my husband mentioned abdominal pain when urinating and the decreased semen output. The doctor said UTI, and my husband might need to see a Urologist.

At that moment, The heavens opened and an angelic choir sang as my husband told the doctor "You said that the last three times I mentioned this. Can't you just get me a referral?" Okay, so the heavens didn't open, and there was no angelic choir, but it felt that way to me. Two weeks later, on a Friday morning, my husband and I sat down with the Urologist. My husband works graves, and he had just completed his workweek, and he was more surly than usual, so when the Urologist said he wanted an MRI first and didn't do a a digital rectal exam, or order a PSA test, my husband was grouchy about it. I apologized to the Urologist, explained about the graves, and then the Urologist patiently explained why the MRI was done first. Apparently (DUH!) it shows problems quickly, and then, if necessary, a PSA test is done.

What I didn't notice was that the MRI was labeled ASAP. Before we even got home, the MRI people were calling to make an appointment. The following Friday, the MRI was done. On the following Tuesday, we were told another MRI was necessary because the "doctor needed more views" I missed the red flags. I was just happy that something was being done. We waited for the Urologist to call us, but the call never came. Apparently my husband was told to call a week after the MRI but he didn't hear it (he's hard of hearing), and I didn't remember it. He finally went to see our doctor who had his receptionist look into it. She called me the next day, telling me that my husband could only get those results from the Urologist. 



The soonest we could get an appointment was November 30^th so we waited patiently and carried on as if it was any other November/Thanksgiving. Why worry when you can't do anything about something? I'm getting tired now, (I'm a chronic insomniac, and I need a nap) so I'll write about the Urologist visit next time.