I wonder if most guys are as unconcerned about prostate cancer as Will had been—I'll bet that's true of most guys in their thirties and forties. As prostate cancer has become a topic of conversation in our home, we continue to learn much more than we'd ever thought necessary when this disease had not been of personal concern.
Before Will's diagnosis, I knew of only one friend, who'd endured treatment for prostate cancer, a cardiologist, who has been our dear friend since college, when he and Will had participated in a Friday night study group, along with two other determined, pre med students. After college, this dedicated quartet continued their Friday night ritual over the next four grueling years until we all celebrated the joyous occasion of their graduation from medical school. Each stood up at each other's weddings. All held their first child in their arms within a year of each other. And we're in the midst of planning a trip to Napa, later this year. (At this point in time, I'm the only woman left of the four who had originally been considered one of 'the guys'.)
At any rate, ever since Will's diagnosis we've listened, attentively, to one case of prostate cancer after another, kind of like when you buy a new car, and all of a sudden, you see your model everywhere you go.
Recently, a neighbor, whose three sons match ours in age, informed us that after his bout with the disease, his sons chose to be tested, annually, and thank goodness for taking preventative action, because much to the family's disconcerted astonishment, one son, in his early forties, had already developed the disease, and surgery proved necessary. As to the youngest, who is still in his thirties, his PSA is on the rise.
Unfortunately, Will had known three colleagues who'd been amongst those who did not survive, very long. Though their surgeries had seemed successful, their cancer had metastasized. As you can imagine, these deaths weigh heavy on my husband's mind, especially since we learned that these three doctors, like Will, had been diagnosed at an age when the prognosis, concerning longevity, is more worrisome.
Being a surgeon, Will is a stickler for detail, which is why its surprising that he'd not been tested for five years (Guess this is another example of everyone being imperfectly human, if not here then there). While listening to Dr. B outlining options, I watched my husband taking meticulous notes, and thus did my intuition note that Will's well being was most definitely in the safekeeping of two pairs of exceptionally capable hands … And though nothing else had changed, that fact give my anxiety reason to relax, at least somewhat … And relaxing somewhat is definitely preferable to anxiety spiking … which will come later …
PS ... Did I mention that our neighbor, whose three sons match ours in age, is an internist, who, having checked his PSA, annually, caught the disease at an early stage…
Next up ... While Will takes notes and I listen, Dr B outlines medicine's most current options …
Before Will's diagnosis, I knew of only one friend, who'd endured treatment for prostate cancer, a cardiologist, who has been our dear friend since college, when he and Will had participated in a Friday night study group, along with two other determined, pre med students. After college, this dedicated quartet continued their Friday night ritual over the next four grueling years until we all celebrated the joyous occasion of their graduation from medical school. Each stood up at each other's weddings. All held their first child in their arms within a year of each other. And we're in the midst of planning a trip to Napa, later this year. (At this point in time, I'm the only woman left of the four who had originally been considered one of 'the guys'.)
At any rate, ever since Will's diagnosis we've listened, attentively, to one case of prostate cancer after another, kind of like when you buy a new car, and all of a sudden, you see your model everywhere you go.
Recently, a neighbor, whose three sons match ours in age, informed us that after his bout with the disease, his sons chose to be tested, annually, and thank goodness for taking preventative action, because much to the family's disconcerted astonishment, one son, in his early forties, had already developed the disease, and surgery proved necessary. As to the youngest, who is still in his thirties, his PSA is on the rise.
Unfortunately, Will had known three colleagues who'd been amongst those who did not survive, very long. Though their surgeries had seemed successful, their cancer had metastasized. As you can imagine, these deaths weigh heavy on my husband's mind, especially since we learned that these three doctors, like Will, had been diagnosed at an age when the prognosis, concerning longevity, is more worrisome.
Being a surgeon, Will is a stickler for detail, which is why its surprising that he'd not been tested for five years (Guess this is another example of everyone being imperfectly human, if not here then there). While listening to Dr. B outlining options, I watched my husband taking meticulous notes, and thus did my intuition note that Will's well being was most definitely in the safekeeping of two pairs of exceptionally capable hands … And though nothing else had changed, that fact give my anxiety reason to relax, at least somewhat … And relaxing somewhat is definitely preferable to anxiety spiking … which will come later …
PS ... Did I mention that our neighbor, whose three sons match ours in age, is an internist, who, having checked his PSA, annually, caught the disease at an early stage…
Next up ... While Will takes notes and I listen, Dr B outlines medicine's most current options …
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