THERE WAS NO RESPONSE TO AN UPDATE REMINDER IN 2016 SO THERE IS NO UPDATE.

I was scheduled for an ultrasound and prostate biopsy this morning at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills, after my annual exam resulted in the dreaded PSA doubling.

Things pretty much went according to my expectations: the humiliation of wearing one of those open-only-in-the-back hospital gowns and nothing else, the "probe" which took eight photos made of the surface of my prostate gland, which is meant to reveal any "hot spots" that might indicate cancer. The same probe seamlessly became a bow that shot a total of 12 "arrows" into the gland, but not before I got an extra antibiotic hypo, and two jabs into the gland itself that were said to be an anesthetic. I am not complaining, but the two anesthetic shots and the first two "arrows" hurt a lot. But after that, I consoled myself with counting the number of arrows until the doctor announced that I had "done well" and I could get up and dress.

The doctor's assistant had packed my assaulted rear end with a large wad of gauze, but I was dripping blood by the time I arrived at the changing booth. And when I stood up after dressing, the seat I had been on was a puddle of blood. But I soldiered on, and went to my car, thinking the 10-block drive to my law office would be tolerable. But by the time I parked my car, my trousers were bloody half way to my knees and everything felt pretty soggy "down there."

I headed for the men's room, stopped by the first aid kit to get a large roll of gauze, and used the handicapped stall. Lowering my britches was messy, to say the least. About 30 minutes later, I had managed to clean myself up, repacked the necessary parts of my clothing with fresh, dry toilet paper, hand towels, and half the roll of gauze. My intention was to use an empty office that still had a couch to recline and rest until the bleeding stopped.

After about 45 minutes, that soggy feeling was definitely back, and I headed back to the handicapped stall. This time I felt as though I belonged there! I had lost enough blood to feel light headed, and hurried the second cleanup of body and clothing, but fell short of the goal.

I passed out cold three times (fortunately while seated on the "throne") during the second cleanup. I started throwing up - violently. I sweated profusely. I was in shock.

Finally, I figured I'd better stop pretending this was something I could handle by myself, and when I heard the next person enter the room, I called out for help. Eventually, one of my bosses (whose urologist happens to be the same doctor who had done the deal and knew where his office was) drove me over in her Lexus, with me sitting on a wad of hand towels thick enough to prevent her upholstery from damage. I somehow walked into the jam packed waiting room, and was immediately shown into an examination room while hearing the receptionist telling everyone they would be delayed due to an "emergency" - me.

The doctor started by having me slip off my soiled clothing and lying down on an exam table on my back. As he later told me, I was ashen gray at that point. He had my blood pressure taken, which turned out to be 105 over 50 - "normal" for me is 155 over 115. He ordered a blood test stat, and Gatorade. I spent most of the next three hours dozing in between reality and the fog of the unreal, most of it alone and in the dark, for which I was thankful (as opposed to having bright exam lights in my eyes). At that point, I nearly fainted again. The doc wasn't going to let me go until he had results from the blood test. Meanwhile, the nurse encouraged me to drink the entire Gatorade bottle (I had a choice of orange or that evil lemon-lime flavor).

Eventually I felt strong enough to stand upright, don the adult-sized Pull-Ups provided to replace the hopelessly blood-soaked shorts, and was ushered into the doctor's office to await his next visit. He came in, gave me some very specific instructions for the weekend, and explained that statistically, only 1 man in 750 bleeds like I did. He further said I was the second patient this week that had bled.

My friend Bob drove me home. I spent the weekend perusing the Internet, and found this website. Very interesting - very informative, and as it turned out, very timely!

June 6, 2005

Today, the doctor called me to say he had found a "tiny" tumor in just one area of my prostate. He said I should call his assistant to set up a time to come in for a consultation. He said I was T1 and Gleason 3 + 3. I am feeling more angry than sad at this news. I leave, one month from tomorrow, for a two-week vacation to France, which is 100% paid for and 100% unrefundable. So I am going, and will deal with the "problem" as soon as I return.

Do any of you get so many "helpful" suggestions from friends and family that you want to scream "enough already!"? I do, already. Everyone has a friend or a neighbor or a distant cousin that has prostate cancer. I guess this too, shall pass.

June 7, 2005

I am having minimally-invasive laparascopic robot-assisted prostatectomy on July 29th. No fooling around, even it is small.

July 26, 2005

A funny thing happened on the way to my 29 July surgery date. A two-week vacation to France had been bought and paid for prior to the diagnosis, and so the consensus was, go ahead and enjoy the time off and prepare for the robotic thingy to do its deed.

However, three days prior to the end of the vacation, the retina of my right eye suffered three tears while climbing the steep steps of Mont Saint-Michel, requiring over 600 laser "welds" to patch me up. I'm still looking out through blood and am on one week's disability from work. So the surgery scheduled for 29 July had to be postponed. In this case, my vision was the greater urgency.

So now it looks like 2 or 16 September before I can get this cockroach out of me. I'll keep you posted.

10 August 2005

I am now in the countdown mode to surgery on 12 August. That means I have cut off medications and vitamins, and this morning was my last coffee. Tonight will be my "last supper" before surgery. Today I will lay in a stock of popsicles, apple juice and white grape juice, and go buy the two 10-ounce bottles of Magnesium Citrate that I will need to consume tomorrow morning.

I stopped taking aspirin weeks ago, and since I am concurrently on disability leave from work due to tears in the retina of my right eye, I don't have the usual headaches caused by stress at work. I am fortunate that my place of employment provides a benefit of one week disability to supplement the government's $120 per day. This means no lowering of income during my medical leave, at least up to the 12 weeks maximum allowed (one week of benefit for every year I've worked there).

I am hoping that assuming all goes well in surgery, which will be the Da Vinci robot-assisted minimally invasive laparascopic procedure, I will be discharged from Cedars-Sinai Surgical Center on 13 August. For the record, my surgeon is Christopher S. Ng, MD.

I want to thank our esteemed leader, and at least two gentlemen Mentors who have taken the time to write to me despite their own busy schedules. One writes to me at my workplace, so I cannot access his name in this update, but the other one Burten E. Becker, DDS of Tucson, AZ who offered a lot of very practical advice, for which I thank him.

Unless I have more to say tomorrow, I will write a follow-up report at earliest opportunity after the procedure. Prayers and positive vibes are welcome!

15 August 2005

I was released from hospital yesterday afternoon to resume postoperative recovery at home. Believe me, it is far better to be home, even though the Cedars-Sinai Surgical Hospital facilities and personnel were virtual perfection as far as I experienced it. I was even afforded a private room with a view window over West Los Angeles from the height of eight stories. I tend to sweat while sleeping, and the "posturepedic" beds have a tendency to hold in body heat, making extended periods of sleeping in one position a very damp one. Minor irritations: the lack of an overhead bar to pull myself upright, and a TV-radio-call the nurse keypad on a cord absolutely not designed with human use in mind. Someone could make a fortune redesigning that bedside instrument alone.

I was still fairly woozy with anesthetics from the early 12 August surgery as they rolled me to my room, and I remember little of the first day other than having frequent visits for pills (antibiotics and stool softeners) and regulation of the various tubes (an IV for nutruition and hydration, a surgical drain and of course, the bag at the end of the urethal catheter). I was not in great pain, although I felt some stinging at the main point of entry of the DaVinci robot which of course must be large enough to admit the camera and at procedure's end, to extract the severed prostate.

The five other "punctures" are secured by a very strong sort of plastic tape, that I expect my excellent surgeon, Dr. Christopher S. Ng (whom I highly recommend!), to remove at the end of this week.

I think the pace of return to normal life is an individual one. I am normally a kind of "charge forward" type, but I found that I approached such challenges as sitting upright, sliding off a bed, sitting in a chair - such simple actions, really - with undue, extreme caution, fearing I might tear something loose. For example, this morning it took me a full ten minutes to get upright after sleep, and after I figured out the least possible traumatic way to do that, I felt a bit foolish for having worried myself so much. I still move in a very thoughtful and predetermined manner. It's just me, I suppose.

Post-surgery, one of the most challenging aspects is the bloating, which is caused by the lower digestive tract having to readjust to different topography. So there you are, lying in hospital feeling ever more pressure on the upper abdomen, and you cannot pass gas. Uncomfortable, to be sure, and you end up adjusting your leg configuration just to relieve the sometimes sharp pain of the gas pressure. In my case, I was able to pass gas for the first time exactly 37 hours after the beginning of surgery. Not all at once, mind you, but little bit by little bit. Three days after surgery, as I write this, I am still a bit bloated, but the pressure is now reduced to just an uncomfortable level, and I expect to be doing a lot of walking around the house - up and down stairs - to further get things moving in the netherparts.

The catheter has caused absolutely no pain or discomfort, as I am sure we all fear prior to having it actually done. It is weird to see such a large piece of tubing emerging from your most private and male part, and caretaking at this point is almost entirely focused on preventing any undue stress on the catheter. Changing from night bags (that are on a long enough tube to enable it to lie on the floor bedside) to day bags (strapped to the leg and much smaller in size) is a bit of a learning curve, especially if you are being taught how to do it at 3 AM. I just figured - and so far so good - that I could make it work.

The fact I have had no solid foods since 10 August has not created a strong desire for food, but I expect that will change soon.

I shall report back after my doctor visit on 15 August.

15 August 2005

Improved strength, mobility (except for the catheter) and endurance noted. This morning, 97 hours after surgery, I was able (and more than willing) to pass solid waste, with no blood noted. Yippee, yahoo! Now to be able to get a full cough going again, is the last step to a feeling of "normal." Whether that or getting rid of the catheter happens first, we'll see. The catheter is due to be removed on Friday, 19 August.

23 August 2005

I had the catheter out on 19 August, and had almost no continence in the early hours. Over the weekend following, and with Serenity pads securely in place, I gradually got the right sphincter working again, with ever greater continence. The biggest threat was getting out of bed in the morning, or getting up out of the easy chair in front of the television after sitting there for hours. I would have to actively think "ok, tighten up" and hold it while arising, and then I could make it to the toilet and pee on demand instead of "whenever."

On 21 August, I was surprised to find blood coming out with the urine. The doctor basically said, as long as you can urinate, don't sweat the blood. Two days later, as I write this, the blood is still flowing, but sometimes in a very small amount. Again, a call to the doctor; again, the reassuring, don't worry.

I will continue to wear the Serenity pads until the bleeding stops, and then I will try to fly solo (at least around the house).

Still another month until the next PSA test and my first Levitra tablet!.

1 January 2006

Since my last report, I have had two post-surgical PSA tests. Both came back with a score of >0.1 which essentially means no PSA found. That also means, the surgeon got it all.

I consider myself fully recovered, and cancer-free, and lucky enough to have caught it before it got out of hand.

I am grateful to have made the choice to undergo the minimally-invasive, DaVinci robot-assisted radical prostatectomy.

The only downside relates to sexual function, but by following the urologist's advice, one can return to a fairly normal practice, minus the ability to father children. I hope all concerned parties are advised of this prior to surgery.

As for continence, I am 100% back to normal, and better in that I no longer dribble when peeing. It's almost as good as being 10 years old again!

I do not expect future PSA tests to return any sign of a positive result. In any case, I will report back to the group.

23 March 2007

I am still here, and am awaiting my annual physical, at which time I am due for my annual PSA test, which ought to result in the "0" count of the past three tests. Please keep me in the group until I can give a report - hopefully totally successful - after the PSA is tested again.

Otherwise, I do have occasional "leakages" especially after sitting for a long time, then suddenly getting up, and on occasion, at moments of mental sexual arousal. I say mental, and I think you know what I mean. Actual sexual arousal these days is mostly mental. Since I had major surgery on both eyes last year, I am skittish about using Viagra or Cialis, which I have tried, but which put pressure on the eyes. So I am now doing mega-vitamin therapy, and that seems to help a bit, but still not enough to make penetration possible.

Hi again!

Simply stated, I have had PSA tests every six months, and in none of them has any whiff of PSA been detected. I am about to take the next one, and nobody expects anything to show up.

Best advice from me - get the da Vinci and forget all the others. The surgery is minimally invasive and your recovery time is going to be amazing. Dealing with the post-surgical dribbles is a small price to pay for getting rid of the cancer!

Best wishes!

Douglas

I am far enough down the road post-op to be tested for PSA but once a year, and that test is coming up in a few weeks. But in every test I've had since my Da Vinci robotic surgery in August of 2005, no PSA has ever been detected. That means they "got it all" - and so I am pleased to say once again, I am cancer free. That is no small matter to me, as my first and final response when told I had prostate cancer was, "Get it out of me!" And they did, thank God.

Post-op sexual life is limited, but at my age, quite tolerable given the alternative. I frequently enhance the experience by taking some "Pure Orchic" capsules available at vitamin stores at a minimal cost. (I have nothing to gain financially by recommending this approach.) I did try some rather bizarre solutions suggested by my surgeon, but none of them really were worth the high cost, so to save on the budget, I recommend the Pure Orchic. I pay $14 per 60 capsules and take double the suggested dosage for best results. (Please understand that penetration is not in the cards, even with the Orchic help, but short of that, sexual play can be very enjoyable, including orgasm. There are alternative "tools" for the desirous partner.)

Aside from mentoring a former student of mine through the robotic surgery, I have had no reason even to think about my own condition. I am cancer-free and have no reason to believe it will ever return.

I am grateful for this website, where I can refer others who may be facing the same experience I did. I know how that feels, and for those of us who survive to live nearly normal lives post-surgery, life is good.

Best of luck to everyone!

Douglas

In response to a reminder, Douglas said:

Thanks for all you do!

Please be patient with me, as I am involved in a video project that will fully occupy my time until about July.

PSA = consistently absent from year to year. However, I do have some actinic cancers caused by boyhood exposure to sun ...

Best,
Doug

Most recent blood test shows no PSA at all, as expected.

No return of cancer, and I only see my doctor once every five years now. The only change, if that is what it is, is an increase in preseminal fluid, which surprised me. I asked my doctor on my more recent visit about this, since I assumed that during surgery they might have disconnected or removed the Cowpers gland. It did take several years before I realized that this function was still operating, albeit at much less level.

I still enjoy occasional sex, minus the "kick" that the prostate used to give. Take what you can get!

Cheers and good luck to all.

I am approaching the ten-year anniversary of my "farewell party" for my slightly cancerous prostate. There has been no recurrence of the disease, and no sign of PSAs, for which I am grateful.

While I opted for the DaVinci robotic surgery, I did so because that was the cutting-edge technology of the day. Today, I would recommend a man facing the difficult question of what to do, to look carefully and thoughtfully into today's options first. That's obvious. There may be better options now or in the near future that are better than the "minimally invasive" approach.

I wish one and all a return to excellent health, no matter which path you choose.

Douglas's e-mail address is: justusla AT mac.com (replace "AT" with "@")

NOTE: Douglas has not updated his story for more than 15 months, so you may not receive any response from him.