October

Things dont seem to be improving but at least there are no setbacks. I have good days and bad days. I still need, or maybe love, to take an afternoon nap. But, I am cooking dinner for Peg now and still putting up some tomatoes. It has been a great time to catch up on all the issues around the house. Since I am here, we could schedule the dog groomer (she comes to the house), carpet cleaners, fridge repairman, 2 vehicle recalls, water meter replacement, and I cant remember them all. My honey do list grows quickly. In mid October, my employer sent me a form to be filled out by my doc. I was tentatively scheduled to return to work on Oct. 27. Well, the doc told them I was restricted to lifting 10 pounds, needed to be close to the mens room, and also needed several rest periods through the day....ah my beloved naps. Anyway, my employer said, dont come back until there are no restrictions. Once I got over my dissappointment of another month off, well, ok, there was no dissappointment.

I told you about my golf buddies on my last post. One of the highlights of my year is my annual Manly Mecca to Myrtle Beach. There are 8 guys who go the third week of October. I look forward to this like a kid looks forward to the last day of school. Anyway, since I couldnt work, and the trip was paid, and the doctor told me I could do anything except play hockey, I went. In fact, the doc said I would be a better golfer because every time I would swing hard, I would pee my pants. Golfers know they should swing easily and smoothly but we cant resist trying to knock the pee pee off of a golf ball.

My buddies made sure I didnt lift more than 10 pounds. I didnt carry my luggage or clubs. Or groceries or booze. Man am I going to have to pay back next year. Anyway, my first day of golf was not very great, other than I was out. I did get tired, and I did need a couple of pads. But I was with 7 great guys and the weather was perfect. Plus, when the round was over, we got to go into the clubhouse and watch the Steelers win. After the first day of golf, we always hit the grocery store and buy lunch meat, bread, buns, coffee, food not good for regular consumption, enough tonic water to float a boat, dips, Crystal Lite for those on restriction, and of course, extra toilet paper. You can never have enough when you eat the crap we eat down there. We had enough experience to buy the booze the afternoon before when we got in. We flew in on a Saturday, and they close booze stores at 7 pm down there. They cant sell booze on Sunday, so we had a window to stock up, plus, we put some down on Saturday. Since I really only shot my regular game on Sunday, I wasnt too sure about the swing easy thing. Then on Monday, we played a beautiful course called Thistle. I was golfing out of my head. I had a 77 after 15 holes, well on my way to a round in the mid 80's, the best I ever shot. Then on hole 16, it felt like I was slipped a date rape drug. Well, maybe not that strong, but the fatigue hit me without warning. Sadly, it took me 16 strokes to finish the last 3 holes but 93 is still a great round for me.

I usually cook dinner for the guys one or 2 nites, but they would not let me. Which was good. I went back to the condo, ate a sandwich and went to bed, leaving instructions to be awakened one half hour before leaving for dinner. Charlie woke me up, I showered, went to dinner, returned home and went to bed at 9. I slept until it was time to get up the next morning. This pretty much was my week. I did not golf at all the third day, and the last day I had to stop after about 11 holes. But I still had a good time with the guys and the weather could not have been better. We flew back to Pittsburgh on Saturday morning to rain. It figures. It was great to see Peg. I usually dont get homesick, but not being up to snuff, I really did miss her this trip. We stopped for a late breakfast, then I went home to bed for a 6 hour nap.

All in all the weather for October in Pittsburgh was above normal. No rain, and warm. Halloween was over 60 degrees. I remember one Halloween we had 10 inches of snow. As I write this, on the news, they are saying that taking Vitamin E and selinium do not prevent prostate cancer. So if you are doing this, save your money and get your PSA checked.

A few words about my golf buddies. I have mentioned some of them in the last posting, but need to introduce you to the others. There is Dale and George who stay in the condo with Charlie and I. These guys did everything for me except for the shower thing. The other 2 I havent mentioned are Denny and this year, a newbie, Sid. Except for Dave, Denny and I, all the others are entrepreneurs and own their own business. Bruce and Dale are retired, the others still work many hours a day, and Denny and I are in senior management, a fun job that masochists love. Dave is retired but works as a consultant in Human Resource Management. The point I am attempting to make here is that we all make about a hundred decisions a day as part of our job. When we are on vacation, no one wants to make one decision. Issues like where to go for breakfast or dinner can take hours to resolve. It is almost comical to watch that hot potato get passed about. Thankfully, Bruce will usually help us make up our minds. I cant thank these guys enough for this year in Myrtle. I couldnt have done it without them. It was a blast, even if only when I was awake.

The Road to Recovery

How is that for a title? Sounds like a 12 step program. Anyway, recovery is so gradual that it is pointless to try to list everything week by week. Since I am now allowed to drive, I wanted to get out for a bit just about every day. My doc told me that once the catheter came out, he didnt care if I played hockey. A typical day begins with me hitting the showers after Peg leaves for work. I put on a pot of coffee and read the paper. Not a bad life. Make a nice breakfast around 9am. I would try to get to a big box store such as Lowes, Home Depot, Costco, or Wal Mart to just get some walking in. Initially, I couldnt go very far or very long. And almost every day, that three pm nap had to happen. Within 2 weeks I was able to be out of the house for 2 or 3 hours without too much fatigue. Finally, on a beautiful fall Friday, I met my golf buddies Stevie, Bruce, Poke Chop, and Charlie for a couple of beers in New Castle. It was such great therapy to see the guys and get away for an afternoon. Peg worried about me holding up, but I did just fine. My buddy Stevie, who will never read this because a telephone is as technical as he gets, had a bout of bladder cancer a few years ago and he was a good sympathetic ear and consultant through this. I have been blessed with good friends, and my relationship with each of them has its own uniqueness. Stevie is just a character that gives me tons of laughs and golf tips. Bruce is the Mel Brooks of the bunch, always laughing and telling jokes. He keeps me well supplied with great email humor. Pork Chop was a Human Resource exec and we trade our management stories. Plus, he was a drummer, as I was. Pork Chop is a die hard Cleveland Browns fan so we have a lot of needling about them and the Steelers. He has a Browns helmet autographed by Jimmy Brown. I have to tip my hat to that one. If there ever was a Cleveland player I admired, it was Jimmy Brown. Charlie and I are closer than the others. I have know him longer and he has introduced me to all the other guys. We both love golf, gin and our wives. We usually spend New Years Eve together, and take a summer vacation together. Charlie's wife Lynn made me a sunshine basket when I came home from the hospital. There were wrapped, numbered gifts in the basket that I was to open on the day indicated by the number. For example, day 1, was a pack of chicken soup. Each days gift had a great riddle attached. There was candy, DVD's, puzzles, books, and a bottle of wine. It was really great and lots of fun to look forward to every day.

My concerns now are centered on the incontinence and fatigue. I can walk a flight of steps and need to sit to catch my breath. The other problem isnt that bad, but more a constant worry. I cant go anywhere without making sure I find the closest bathroom. Peg and I went to dinner for the first time since surgery after church on a Saturday night. Pennsylvania just passed a smoking ban in public places, which by the way is so full of holes it is pointless. Anyway, I had to go to the mens room. I really need the stall to make sure there are no accidents. Wouldnt you know it, some jag off was in the stall smoking. I wanted to pee on his shoes, but I cant get a stream. Pennsylvania passes a smoking ban then has given out 3,000 plus exemptions in the 2 months since. Way to go. The tobacco lobbies must be writing checks at record speed. Not really wanting to get into politics, but this recuperation time afforded me a front row seat to the final 2 months of the presidential race, and the financial collapse of the world. Nothing like real tv to keep things lively. Only thing missing were congressional hearings.

Sept 21 Week

It is Sunday, Sept 21 and I had a great night sleep. I was exhausted from my excursion the day before. Plus, I had a manhatten and a vicodan left over from a sprained ankle. Sleep of the dead. Peg and I went to mass and then to Trader Horn where I found a food mill. I should have gone there first. This store ranks right up there with Tractor Supply. Another favorite. We came home and prepared to watch the Steeler game. The Steelers played the Eagles and lost 15-6. No offense again. Beginning to think Joe Walton came back as offensive coordinator. When he was the coach, the signs in the stadium would say " Hey J E where's the O?" Hope you get my drift.

Anyway, a good game to have a couple of cocktails. I had my travel catheter bag on my leg since I had been out and about. First drink, I could almost see that bag fill up. Remember, it was warm and I was wearing shorts. Dumped the bag. Half hour later, had to dump the bag. One of my classic post surg line was at that point when I told Peg it was hell once you break the bubble. I decided to have another cocktail, but I put my overnight bag on first. Hah, I was good for 6 hours anyway.

Tuesday was the day I was getting my catheter removed. If you remember as a child how you felt on Christmas Eve, you have about one half the sense of excitement I had at finally getting that thing out.

Tuesday morning at 8 am, Peg took me to the docs. I didnt see him but his nurse was going to pull the catheter. I had taken my pads with me so that I could put them on right away. Well, I went into the room with Peg and laid on the table. The nurse took a syringe and drained the fluid from the catheter which held it in my bladder. Then she said the best thing for me to do was take a deep breath. I didnt like the sound of that but I obliged. She gave a yank, and that breath came out like a tornado. I saw all white and dont believe I have ever felt pain like that in my life. Peg was sitting by my feet and I kept curling my toes as the only response to the pain. The nurse said it was out, but I am not sure if she meant the catheter or my spine. I put my diaper on and we left. I was not to see the doc until Nov. 6. On the way home, me in the passenger seat, I couldnt hold back the tears. For the first time, I just gave in. I allowed myself that morning to wallow, but that was about it, although Peg may argue. Between the pain from the catheter irritation, the removal, and the incision, I just had had enough. I also learned quickly that Depends Man Guards do not work with boxer briefs. It was a trip to Wally World to get 8 pairs of tighty whiteys. At least now without the catheter, I was allowed to drive. I didnt really care about driving but I did want to get on my tractor and cut the grass. The problem was that I could not lift more than 10 pounds, so I had to figure out how to empty the bags. I just pulled handfulls of grass out until they were light enough for me to pick up. Anyway, humility aside for the sake of literature, my first stop to empty the bags, I had to pee. I already knew that once I felt that, I had about 10 seconds to get to the toilet. I am on my tractor about 150 feet from the house and there ain't no way. I jumped off the tractor and was going to try to get home. Then I thought "fuck it", put my hand on the hood of the tractor, and used that diaper for what it was designed for. It was great.

The day after my catheter came out, I got up and started my morning in the bathroom. All I could manage was a very slow drip. I became concerned fearing that the bag was going back on. I dribbled all morning and was becoming upset and frustrated. I called the docs office on Thursday and the told me to come right over. They asked me to go in a cup which they check for an infection, which came back negative. Then the did a sonagram on my bladder to see if I was not emptying completely. No infection and I did drain the weasel. They called the doc and he said for me to go home and do Kegel exercises. Now, Peg and I do Kegels. I am not explaining them if you dont know what they are, that is what Google is for.

First Week Home.

I caught some hell from Peg's cousins about not keeping up my blog. So now, I will try to cover the past 8 weeks or so. I left off with my first day coming home. The next morning, Peg had to get her hair done, so I got up, showered, put on a robe and went into my manly room to watch tv and drink coffee. This room is on the second floor and I could navigate very easily. Shortly after Peg left, I decided that I needed to get dressed and go fix some breakfast. It took a bit since bending is pretty difficult and that catheter is a pain. I was able to slip some gym shorts on without having to remove the bag, and waddle myself downstairs. I had some cereal and went back up to the manly room. I figured I had better become independent quickly since Peg would be going to work. It is amazing how tired you become after minimum effort. I had my afternoon nap and Peg made us dinner. I stayed up until 9 pm and felt that was a big accomplishment. I can only sleep on my back, which is not my preferred side for sleeping, but the incision hurts too badly to try anything else. I am able to sleep well through the night. The benefit of a catheter is that you dont have any midnight potty calls. I spent Sunday sitting in the family room watching football. Nothing I wouldnt do if I were healthy either.

Showering is one of those great pleasures in life. My routine is to get up, empty the bag, take my meds then hit the shower. I asked Peg to put a hook on a suction cup inside the shower door so that I can hook my bag on it and be free to move around. This works really well. I dont have any bandage on my incision and doc says it is ok to shower. I make sure I keep this clean, but it still gets some infection which I take care of with Neosporin. The worst is the catheter tube. I am very sore at the point of entry, and there is an almost constant discharge because of the irritation. I did start using Neosporin on this and it helped alot. So, my morning shower has become one of the highlights of my day, right up there with my afternoon nap. Of course that nap is a bit more than that. I would try to stay awake til about 3pm and then Peg would wake me when she came home, most days. One day, it was almost 7 when she came in and woke me. The fatigue is really hard to describe. I can be feeling great one minute, then it seems like I have been hit by a truck and need to sleep the next.

I have not had a cocktail since before surgery, and really, I am not interested in having one. Those that know me must be amazed. I have a Doctor appointment on Thursday. Peg works from home so that she can take me. The doc says that the pathology shows that the cancer was .01 centimeter from coming through the prostate wall. He got it in time, and thinks I will make a full recovery. The nurse removes my staples. This will be great to make showering easier. All in all, everything is well according to doc, and I am right where I should be for recovery.

By Saturday, one week plus 1 day after coming home, I demand that Peg get me out of the house. We start our trip to Tractor Supply. I am looking for a food mill to put up the tomatoes that are coming in like gangbusters from my deck garden. No luck at Tractor Supply, but I really like this place and it is a manly store to browse. I noticed Peg did not get the same enjoyment from being there that I do. She didnt even look at the tractor tires they sell! The next stop was lunch and we went to Mad Mex. We ate lunch and walked across the mall to the Rite Aid to look for diapers for me. My catheter was coming out in 3 days. My point is not to bore you with the details here, I just want you to note the walking involved. We went to another mall, checked out Linen and Things, then Target looking for that food mill. No luck.

Peg needed to make one more stop at Giant Eagle to pick up some things for dinner. I had to go in because my catheter bag was full. By this time, I could barely move from exhaustion and irritation from the catheter hose. I got home and went to bed for a few hours. The problem with a catheter is that the hose cannot come out since there is an inflated balloon inside the bladder that holds it in. It can, however, move in and out about a quarter inch. This happense ever time I take a step. So after all this walking, I was quite miserable from the irritation. I did have a manhatten that evening, and for any ailment, Bourbon, I recommend Bourbon. I took a pain pill and went to bed for the best nights sleep since surgery.

After Surgery - Day 2

Thursday morning started with Mike, the CCAC nursing student, coming in as the day before. He got me up for breakfast and bathing. He roamed all over the hospital looking for a gown that would fit me. Mike asked if I had gotten up to walk and when I told him no one came to help me, he guaranteed me he would get me up today. About 10 am, he unplugged my IV pump, grabbed my cath bag and started to stroll me. I was moving pretty slowly, but moving. We did a lap around half the floor. He pointed out to me 2 very large men standing in the doorway of a patient's room. He told me they were cops and the person inside was a convict. During my afternoon walk, I asked him to take me past there so I could be nosey. Those guys were really big. The doc told me I would be released tomorrow, so I just resigned myself to relaxing and just getting through. Peg came in late again, after my dinner came and went so I wasnt able to eat again. She didnt stay very long, as I talked her into going home. She was pretty well worn out. I was just chilling and watching tv when my evening nurse brought me a bottle of magnesium citrate. This stuff is liquid dynamite. Usually with me it only takes about 2 hours to work. I really didnt want to take this at 8:30pm since I wanted to sleep that night, but I took it. I managed to get out of bed, unplug the IV and grab my cath bag. I sat in a chair outside the bathroom door and just waited it out. By midnite, nothing happened and I was bobbing my head like crazy. I got up and went to bed, and slept all night. Next morning, just after my coffee, success in the boom room. Now everyone was happy. It is amazing how the simple things like a good sleep, a nice pee or poop and all is well. I put my earplugs in and dozed all morning. Ate a sandwich for lunch and slept til about 3. Peg would be here by 4, or so, so I got up, put on my catheter leg bag for the first time, got dressed, packed and waited. She was right on time. I got home around 5:30. Peg had to go to the drug store so I just sat in my recliner. Big mistake. I couldnt get out of the chair. I had a bit to eat and about 6:30 went to bed for the night. I slept in the guest bedroom, where we had a waterproof mattress liner. Also, our bed is an old waterbed with a regular mattress, but with the siderails, I couldnt get out of that bed either. I was given Percocet for pain. I had better pain pills left from a foot injury, but stuck to the docs orders. My catheter bothered me constantly, but it diverted my attention from the pain of the incision.

Surgery plus 1

I was awakened at 6:45 am by my doc, Dr. Cercone. He had his physician assistant with him and the floor nurse. He told me things went very well and that he thought everything looked good. He didnt see any sign of cancer outside my prostate wall, but we had to wait for the pathologist report. He said he gave me one unit of blood. ( my anethetist gave me the other 2 ). He pulled down my covers, upped my gown and took off on the nurse. It seems a vital, no very vital, part of a catheter on a man, is the leg strap. This is an elastic velcro band which wraps around the upper thigh, my left. There is another velcro loop that holds the catheter line secure. The idea is that this keeps the line from directly pulling on a man's penis. It keeps a bit of slack in the line and reduces irritation. Hell it reduces pain. Anyway, he fixed it up, and said to the nurse that he wanted it to stay like that always. Thanks doc. I didnt know how much at the time, but I learned very quickly. Dr. Cercone told me that physical therapy would be up before noon and have me up and walking. I wasnt too excited to hear that but I know it is critical for my recovery and to keep blood clots from forming.



At about 8 oclock a lot started to happen. In my room came a nursing student from the Community College of Alleghen County. He had a pile of fresh linens and told me he would be taking care of me. I asked him which campus he was from and he told me Boyce. I am an adminitrator for CCAC so it was nice to have someone from the same team helping. Little did I know how much help. Mike covered my chair with a sheet, helped me out of bed and set me up to eat my breakfast. I was able to eat a small bit, but it was the first food since Sunday afternoon and this was Wednesday. Mike then changed my bed, brought me a basin of water, a wash cloth and towel. I washed up and he doted on me like I was his brother. His instructor, Prof. Gardner came in and when I told her who I was, she and I began to have a bit of fun. Faculty and administration in a college have an unusual relationship. Sophie was sure nice to me. She is a great lady and an even greater teacher. Her students impressed the hell out of me. Mike was aware of the doc's orders for getting me up. However, noon came and no one from physical therapy showed up. Mike got me up in my chair again and made sure I was able to eat lunch. After lunch he got me back to bed and made sure I was ok before he left for the day. Sometime that morning, the big question was whether I had had a bowel movement. I hadnt, which makes sense since I hadnt eaten in 3 days, but the medical minds couldnt figure that one out. They said that if I didnt go by noon, they would have to get me an enema. Hell, you cant get blood out of a stone.



Around 4 pm, they brought a fleets enema and put it on my tray table. Then the nurse left. Around 5 dinner showed up, and since there was no one there to help me sit up or bring my table over, I didnt eat. Peg came about 6:30. She was whipped from working all day after teaching the night before. She saw the fleets but couldnt understand why no one gave it to me. Well, the 3 to 11 nurse was sort of a beauty queen. She clearly spent her shift putting in time, but leaving most of the work for the next shift. Peg ended up giving me the enema. Glad my insurance was paying thousands for my care. Anyway, no success from the fleets, but if I could tell the bastards, it had only been 12 hours since my first meal, and not being a beagle, didnt process that quickly. I talked Peg into going home. She had brought me a pair of earplugs at my request. A hospital is the last place to go to rest. Once I put those plugs in, it was great. My roommate kept his tv on 24 hours. It was never shut off, and the crack medical team would not turn it off at night when I wanted to sleep. I kept my 12 minute vigil with the morphine until I was ready to sleep. I put in the earplugs and hooked up my bipap, and I was out. They came in and took vitals and blood during the night but I just kept sleeping. It was the end of the day after surgery, and I was just glad it was over, but my stomach still was very sore. Oh yeah, physical therapy never showed up that day. Around 9 I told my nurse that I was supposed to have been up and walking. She told me that if she were I, she would not wait for PT. Just grab that catheter bag and your IV pole and walk. Then she walked out of the room. The dumb ass didnt realize I could not get out of bed on my own. What service.

Catching up - Surgery

As promised, I will go back and fill everyone in about my surgery. I had to be at Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh at 5 am on Sept. 9. I was the first person in the Same Day Surgery unit. Took care of all the paperwork and was taken to a unit where I had to take my clothes off and put on a gown. They took my vitals and I had a really nice nurse in there. She made sure I had a gown that fit, instead of one that showed the "full moon" and constricted my shoulders since it is a universal man / woman size. No, she found me a big boy gown and I was a happy guy. Well, as happy as I could be thinking about what was coming. Shortly after they wheeled me to pre op. Peg came along until they told her that was as far as she could go, and we said our goodbyes. That is weird. You want to be optimistic and say that I will see you later, but in the back of your mind you want to add "at least I hope so".



While I was in preop, they came in and took my vitals again, and the nurse taking care of me asked " Are you......." and before she could figure out how to ask, I said, "yes. Cathy is my ex wife". My ex wife Cathy is an ICU nurse there and has been there for over 20 years.



Well, shortly after, Cathy stopped by and checked in on me. She always makes sure things are good if I am in the hospital. She gave me the lowdown on my anethesiologist, saying the doc wouldnt do anything but would make the nurse anethetist do it. Well, in pre op the doc told the NA to start the line. The NA said she wanted to give me some drug that would relax me. She was a very pretty young lady, and when she put the IV line in my hand, I didnt even feel it. Usually, it feels like someone is putting a 10 penny nail in your hand but this was painless.....maybe it was because she was so pretty I had to be a he-man. Anyway, the doc came back and the NA pulled out 2 syringes from her pocket, and just hit me with both. Very nice. I forgot to mention that I laid in there for about an hour. And wouldnt you know it, I had to pee. Well, I fugured it wouldnt be good to go into surgery with a full bladder, so I told the nurse. She handed me a bed bottle. Under the covers with about 10 people around me, I did manage to contribute substantially to the bottle. This part becomes critical. This is my last good pee.



They came in and told me my surgeon was in the building but not in surgery, so they were going to take me back. They wheeled me in and I remember very little other than it was cold in there. The pretty blonde NA had a gown and mask on, did something to my line, and that was that. All I know is that it was about 7:45 when I went in there.



I woke up in recovery being pushed around in my bed. I saw a clock and it was 10:30. First question I heard was " on a scale of one to ten, what is your pain?". Not wanting to be a hero, I said 9. Bam, a shot in the IV line. Not much help, same question shortly after, same answer and bam, another shot. I was beginning to like this. It took a few times, but I got pretty cozy. In fact, once you quit bitching, the nurses quit coming around. The chit chat in there gets to become a real pain in the ass. I dont want to hear about kids, spouses, lousy dates. Hey, I am here and you should be taking care of me. Oh well, I was just happy to be there. They told me I lost a lot of blood and they had to give me 3 units. I had only put one unit of my own in the bank, so thanks to whomever gave the other 2.....I think, at least for now. If I end up with aids or hepatitis, I will not be this happy. Anyway, a sure sign of things to come, I laid in recovery for over 4 hours. Seems they didnt have any rooms. In grad school, I spent a lot of time in a math class studying queuing theory. It seems that you wouldnt do surgery on someone if you didnt have a room for them. I knew my Dad and Sister were with Peg, and I also knew my Dad had to be exhausted and should go home. He would not leave until he saw me, so I started bitching to the nurse. She was going to see if she could bring them back and viola, a room. They took me to a room on the eigth floor of Mercy. My advice to anyone who gets sent to this floor, is to go home or jump out of a window. I will elaborate more, later.



Peg, Debbie and Dad came up shortly after I was wheeled in the room. It was somewhere around 4 by now. I told them that my belly was sore, but I was pretty comfortable. I also told them that my backside didnt hurt at all. I thought this was a bit strange since my doc told me he would be going through my perineum, or as some of you know it, my 'taint'. Dad said just to wait til tomorrow. Deb and Dad left and Peg and I had some time together. We didnt say much but we both realized how much we rely on each other and how glad we were that we still had each other. She had to teach that night, and had to leave. It was about 5 pm. Peg left and they brought me supper. Well, I couldnt sit up, and so I figured it was easier to just not eat. They put a morphine drip in my line and I could take a hit every 6 minutes, up to 6 hits an our. I did the math and figure I could have a really good 36 minutes and a really shit 24 minutes, or just take a shot every 12 minutes and be reasonably comfortable. Amazingly, I programmed myself to wake up about every 12 minutes and hit the trigger. The first night passed with the usual interruptions, taking my vitals. I was not passing any pee, and I had a catheter attached. I asked if I could have water since that is a vital part of pee, and I hadnt had any for about 18 hours. They gave me a Ringers bag along with my IV, and I began to drink water. The first contributions to my bag were very bloody. I prayed for a better output, seriously prayed. By the next day, they told me I was the "King of Pee" on the whole 8th floor. I had serious output. It annoyed the nurse aid since my bag had to be dumped during an 8 hour shift at least two times instead of leaving it for the next shift. Another sign I was in a bit of trouble. I just figured the best thing was to sleep as much as possible. I did not need to sleep at night and be awake for the day. If I had to sleep, I slept. That night, I slept.

Home from the hospital

I was released from Mercy Hospital on Sept. 12, Friday. Peg finished work and picked me up. Having resigned myself to going home at 4 and knowing it would definitely happen, I spent the last day there very relaxed, just waiting for Peg. I am going to go back over the next few days and compose my thoughts and put them here. But, right now, I am still a bit weary and not all that able to focus on any one thing for a long length of time. I think I may have worn out my remote control already. But, today has been my best since surgery and I am hoping that I can continue to say that every day from here on out. I want to thank all my friends and family for their support and prayers. I had a problem with water output after the surgery. I am connected to a catheter so I have no control. I prayed that God would help me through this problem and I quickly gained the reputation as the King of Pee on the 8th floor of Mercy. Nothing like Divine Intervention. I am going to wrap up this entry saying that I am eternally grateful to all who helped me through this. Peg had unbelievable stress from this and so soon after burying her father, but she made it through. I hope the post stress relief doesn't hit her too hard. When I get a bit stronger, I will be back with more of the ordeal.

Vacation is over

My wife and I spent the past 2 weeks in Europe. It was the trip of a lifetime, and we will always remember the fun we had. We spent a day in New York City and saw Jersey Boys on Broadway. We were able to spend the evening with cousins from New York that we just love to spend time with, and as always, had a great evening. We flew out on a red eye to Paris, switched planes to Rome. We spent 4 days in Rome. A beautiful city, constantly buzzing, and extremely expensive. How about $12 dollars for 2 cups of coffee, no refills? We figured with our health profiles, let's have fun. You never know. We saw most of the tourist attractions in Rome, and even had an audience with Pope Benedict at Castle Gondolfo. Amazing is the only word I can use to describe that day. I know that I have been blessed with a good life and will be able to go through this cancer battle with faith and confidence. Rome was fantastic, but just the second leg of a great vacation.

Next we flew to Frankfurt Germany, changed planes and flew to Salzburg Austria. We hosted a German exchange student 4 years ago, and she lives 5 kilometers from Salzburg, just over the border in Freilassing Germany. Katherina, her sister Uli, and her father, Rudy, were there to meet us and take us back to Germany. We spent the next 6 days seeing the sights of Bavaria, including Berchtesgarden, the Eagles Nest, Wolfgangsee, and a good bit of Salzburg. We had a few beers and dinner in a beer hall in Salzburg. What a blast. It was a great evening, and wow, do they know how to make good beer. I had a lot of different German ( Austrian ) foods. One in particular, Leberkasse, which is a baked Bologna loaf, sliced into portions and dipped in dark mustard and freshly ground horseradish. We had schnitzel, schweine something or other, and lots of different breads. But the best was the beer. Brewed on sight, put in very large wooden kegs and served in traditional steins.

We spent a day visiting Obersalzburg and Berchtesgarten. These places have historical significance from WW2. Obersalzburg was where the Nazi leadership has summer homes, and a very large underground bunker to provide safety in case of an attack. The most impressive sight was Kehlsteinhaus, Hitlers 50th birthday gift from Martin Borman. It was used as his conference center and retreat, sitting atop a large mountain with a view that can only be described as spectacular. The temperature before going up the mountain was 72 degrees. Atop the Eagle's Nest it was 50 degrees.

We spent 6 great days in Freilassing hosted by the Breimann family. They were the best hosts and made us feel so comfortable. Several evenings we had traditional dinners at the Breimann's. We had Weisswurst, Scheine Braten, and a noodle dish made by Uli that was great. We left Freilassing for Frankfurt, where we spent one night. Our hotel had an American sports bar, and it was really great to have a few beers and wings in Germany. We left the next morning for a 9 hour flight to Cincinnati, then a quick hop home. We left Germany at 6 am EST and got home at 9pm Est. A long day, but we really enjoyed the down time on the plane from all the busy sightseeing.

I now have 8 days to go before my surgery. I am very much relaxed and confident that I have made the correct decision. Last night, we went to 5 pm mass and were fortunate to have Father Scott Seethaler as our priest. He is a visiting priest and we always feel especially fortunate when we attend his masses. Last night's sermon was about why bad things happen to good people. Not that I am a good person, but it seemed he was speaking directly to me. I am taking a much more optimistic approach to this procedure no matter how it turns out. Father Scott has been an inspirational part of my spiritual life, and last evening was no exception. He gives me strength in my beliefs whenever those beliefs begin to waiver. His words yesterday were all that I needed to feel confident in what is about to happen. Thank you Father Scott, you are truly a messenger from God, and an inspiration in my life.

33 days to go

We had a Celebration of Life for my father in law this past Sunday. It was wonderful. Folks got up and spoke, mostly funny stories about Jake. His good buddy and pseudo son Gino brought down the house retelling the story about the time Jake tried to shoot a deer and instead, shot a pickup truck. The piece of truck he hit was hung on the trophy rack at camp, and brought all of us to almost tears hearing the story again. This was much better than any funeral I have ever been to.

33 days to go until my surgery. I made my pre-op physical appointment today. Next, I need to have 2 pints of my blood put in the blood bank before the surgery. I want to bank one next week, and one the week before the surgery. Not having any second thoughts about my decision, but I must admit, I am a bit anxious about it. Sometimes, it still hits me like I was dreaming, and then the slap of reality hits. I was very much inspired and motivated by Dr. Randy Pausch. He showed the world the true definition of courage, and also showed the world a great educator. Had I been fortunate enough to have been one of his students, I would add that to my resume. I have had several teachers who have made a great impression on me, and I am sure his students will keep his memory alive for all their days.

Looking forward to 2 weeks vacation coming up before surgery. I havent had 2 consecutive weeks vacation since 10th grade. I think it will help me prepare for my surgery and also spend some great quality time with my wife. She has had a shitty summer with her father's passing and my diagnosis, but has been an oak tree for Jake and me.

My brother, sisters, their kids, my kids,grandkids and all will be in this weekend for a family get together. I cant wait. Nothing like surrounding yourself with family to bring happiness. I hope all goes well, and everyone has safe travels to and from.

The Steelers start the preseason in 2 days. Life begins anew. Go Stillers.

Jake

My father in law died on July 22, my birthday. There is some irony in that. My mother died on my ex's birthday. Anyway, Jake, my father in law, went out on his own terms. He wanted no medical intervention and to die at home. He died from sepsis due to an ulceration on his leg caused by poor, if any, circulation. As much as he could get you mad, you have to smile when you think of him. He was always teasing and he took it as well as he dished it out. I think "My Way" would be a good theme song for him. He did things his way, and did not tolerate any contradictions from his family. Stubborn old coot. As sad as not having him anymore can be, we just tell a story and laugh. His nickname, besides Jake, was Grumpy. And he earned it. There was a sign above his bedroom door that said "Dont wake up grumpy, let him sleep". So, now he is sleeping and his family misses him. We will be having a celebration of his life in a couple of weeks. I am sure he will want to know who attends. Here's to you Jake. And I will never forget the anniversary of your death.

My family

My wife's father is in the last few days of his life. He lives about 150 miles away from his family. His choice, not theirs. Not to elaborate or cause hard feelings, but he had an agenda for his life and pretty much stuck to it. The end phase of his life has given me the impetus to think about my parents and our lives together. Mum died in 2001 but Pops is still here, as my earlier post says. Our, my siblings and I, parents taught us a lot of things growing up. Most lessons were unspoken. They showed us how to love and be loved. It sounds corny until you realize that others never got that lesson and how much they missed. My father never blew off a day of work in his life. He had to be near death to stay home sick. In fact, I cant recall him being sick unless he was hospitalized. Otherwise, flu, colds or whatever, went to the mill with him. My Mum kissed me goodnite every night that I lived in her home. I lived in her home the first 6 months I was married, but I still got that kiss. I remember on special Friday nights when Dad would bring home an 8 cut plain pizza from Macko's. There were 4 of us in the house, but Mum would somehow always get full on one slice, so her youngest son could fill up with 3 slices. Probably pissed off my sister, but she was the youngest.

I guess we dont realize these things until it is way too late, but tonight I got to tell Pops what a great job they did showing us how to love each other. I guess one plus side to cancer is that you can be honest and not give a shit about what anyone else thinks. I hope my kids know how much I love them, because, just like I was raised, the word love wasnt spoken, love was shown. And I know my wife knows I how much I love her, because I always remind her. Just in case.

So, here I am being open about my feelings. I dont think I have ever let anyone peek behind the curtain, so this has been quite theraputic. Thanks for reading.

The hardest part so far...

This trip all started in February with my doc telling me my PSA was up and to see a urologist. ( Any English majors can tell me if that is an urologist?). It took quite a while from that point to get to the doctor to schedule the biopsy and get the report. The entire time, I was not telling my father anything. I figured it would all come back negative, and with him being 85, he didnt need to worry about something we were not sure of. The crucial part of this was also keeping some of my siblings in the dark, as they have in the past 'ratted' me out. This goes back to the time in high school when I forgot and left a box of condoms on my parents kitchen table. But that is another blog unto itself. So, last week, I made the trip down to tell my father about my cancer. He knew I was coming down, but not why. When I got there, he was sitting on an ice pack for his back. So I sat across from him in the living room and we just shot the breeze for a few minutes while I kept asking myself "How am I going to do this?". So, I just blurted out "I have some news Dad. I have prostate cancer.". He took a couple of seconds and repeatedly muttered f$*k, f$*k for a bit. It took about half an hour to calm him down and by then, one of the aforementioned siblings dropped in so that diversion brought him down to almost normal. Pops being 85 has been slipping a bit lately. He can become confused at times, and like his youngest son, he forgets a bit. So telling him this was probably, no definitely, the most difficult conversation we ever had. I thought telling him my high school girlfriend was pregnant was the toughest conversation. ( those damn condoms on the table again). That conversation was a day at the beach compared to this one. My father often told me that he wished his father lived longer so he could just ask him questions and talk to him. I used to think that was pretty profound. Now, I am wondering if I will live to an age where my kids will come to me with bad news. I certainly hope not. Anyway, Pops seems to have calmed down, so that is good. Since then we have found out that my father in law has only about 2 weeks or so to live, and has just begun hospice. If God meant that as a distraction to my wife and I from my illness, it worked, just not for the better. So now I worry about my wife and the impact of all of this on her health. Not sure what will happen from here on, but stop back for late breaking developments.

Decision Time

I saw the doctor on June 30. He spent about 1 hour explaining the disease, and the various types of treatments. Treatment ranges from doing nothing, hormone therapy, radiation, and radical surgery. Doing nothing is an option for a man who is most likely of an age where he will die of old age or something else, so being 55, that one was a no brainer. Hormone therapy presents symptoms of female menopause. I can see the many battles between me and my menopausal wife....the marriage would never last. Radiation sounded ok, but the reoccurrence rate 10 years out begins to increase substantially over the final option. Surgery naturally is the most frightening but probably the best way to successfully remove the cancer provided it is confined to the prostate. Oh yeah, radiation and surgery have about a 20 to 30 percent chance of some side effects.....impotence and incontinence. So, kids, whats the old man to do? Well after a few days of deliberation, several cocktails and many hours of discussion with my wife, we are going for the surgery. She says she wants me here, even if I am not completely functional, as opposed to the other option. The doctor says that I have a 10 year life expectancy if I do nothing. This cancer is a very slow growing disease, but when it metasticises it goes into the spine, lungs, brain....well you get the picture. I had a dream about my grandkids last night. We were laughing and playing. I am sure this was an affirmation of my decision being the correct one. I called the doc on July 3 and told him I chose the surgery. We will make the arrangements on Monday, July 7 for the procedure.

As I go along with this part of my life, I will post info on what is going on with my treatment.

I caught cancer....now what

In March of 2008, I was told my PSA score ( Prostate Specific Antigen ) was elevated and that I should see a specialist. This had happened three or four years ago and they did another blood test and all was well. At that time, my psa was 4.2. This time it was 6.8, still not that high, with 3 being normal. I made an appointment with a specialist....it took 2 months to get in to see him. He told me I had to have a biopsy....it took another month and a half to schedule the biopsy. It only took one week to get the results.....I had cancer. I want to keep this blog to track my adventure with this disease. I also want to share this experience with my friends and family, especially my children. I especially want to keep this blog for me. I still have flashes of "oh, that was just a dream" phenoma so as we go along, it will be interesting for me to monitor how my perspective changes. This may be a bit narcissistic, but hell, I caught cancer.