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|The Big "C" - Part 1 (standard:non fiction, 2385 words) [1/3] show all parts|
|Author: casio1933||Added: May 07 2008||Views/Reads: 1873/1101||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|When I was 42 years okd, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer - this is the story of that ordeal|
THE BIG "C" In all Dads' family, through the years the mention of cancer was nearly always synonymous with death. The pain of the victim was shared by the family. The, often times, slow lingering deterioration before death made almost everyone wish "it could just be over”. Cancer was a "thing" ‑ to be scared of, and Dad had grown up with this fear. In 1978, Dad's routine annual physical was scheduled for early August. After he had completed his examination, Max told Dad he had found an "irregularity in the prostate”. It was probably nothing to worry about, however, he thought Dad should get it checked by a specialist. Max made an appointment for Dad the following day with Joe Mathias. Joe was one of the best Urologist/Proctologists around. After his special "finger‑wave" treatment told Dad he thought he may have some infection or at worst a small "pocket" of stones. He gave Dad a prescription to treat the suspected infection. "Come back in two weeks and we'll check it again." It was now mid August and Joe's reexamination revealed no change in the anomaly. Dad felt fine (physically) and Joe felt there was only one chance in a million that the condition was anything more than a small pocket of fine stones. Even so, it was a risk he would not have Dad assume. A simple biopsy could set his mind at ease. It would mean waiting a couple of weeks (to make sure the enzymes released as a result of the prostate examination would not cause a false reading) then two nights in the hospital and back to work with no further worry. All this sounded good, but Dad's gut told him otherwise. He and Mom had been walking around in a daze ‑ they didn't know what to do or what they could do. Mom and Dad had been married for twenty‑one years, and realized they had been just sitting back, fat, dumb and happy. Their house was paid for; both had good jobs, a new lot out in the country and plans for their "dream‑house”. They had been sitting' on top of the world and the props had just been knocked out. Dad was scheduled into the hospital late Sunday evening. He and Mom spent the day on their new boat at the lake. When Dad stepped off the boat he didn't know if he would ever see it again ‑ memory of the feeling was so strong, he never enjoyed the boat again and they sold it the following spring. Both Mom and Dad were pretty "uptight" that afternoon. That evening Dad checked into the hospital. Since Joe was so sure there was no malignancy, Dad had told him to go ahead and perform a vasectomy while he was in there and under anesthesia. Mom and Dad had managed to avoid having kids for twenty‑one years and felt they didn't want any ‑ they were just over grown (aged) kids themselves, doing what they wanted when they wanted to do it. On Monday morning Joe did the biopsy (and the vasectomy) under a general anesthetic. Dad is a coward when it comes to operations ‑ "I don't want to be awake”. Max was also at the hospital with Mom when they brought Dad to his room after the surgery. Joe came in that afternoon and said the biopsy and the vasectomy had gone well ‑ "We'll know the results tomorrow, don't worry about it. I know of only a couple of cases where an individual your age has had prostate cancer.” Dad tried to think about getting home and trying out his new vasectomy. Mom went by the hospital that evening. Dad and her chatted a little, but could not really discuss anything ‑ Dad was nervous as a blind queer at a weenie roast, despite Joe's assurances. Mom went home after awhile ‑ planning to be back early next morning when Joe came by with results of the biopsy. Tuesday A.M. ‑ "Bad news! Bad news! Nothing but bad news, malignant, no more sex, got to get that dammed thing out of there etc. etc." That was about all Dad could comprehend from Joe's outburst ‑ it was "bad news" and Dad was having a very rough time absorbing it. After Joe calmed down a little and Dad recovered from the shock, he asked Joe "what hell are you talking about?" Click here to read the rest of this story (159 more lines)
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