This is the story of my prostate’s farewell tour and the cancer that necessitated it. At times, it might be a little icky, so I’ll give an all caps warning when I might be going in that direction.
I’ll also be talking about sex, sort of, so if that kind of stuff falls in the T.M.I. category this might not be the blog for you.
Of course, the legendary Boo Monster’s adventures will be covered. I’m concerned he won’t be able to understand that Daddy is not his usual human jungle gym self after the operation.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Boo Monster, he is my 8 year old son David and has low-functioning autism. He’s non-verbal, which is not to say he doesn’t vocalize, and is quite simply the most unstoppable force in the universe. He’s also my whole world.
Basically, this blog will be a diary, and I promise very little doom and gloom.
I’ve been exceptionally lucky for the last ten years. It’s been an almost mystical bout of good fortune, peppered with the necessary humility, so as I could continue to “keep it real”. I met and married the girl of my dreams; the perfect little boy picked us as his parents; I lucked into a dream-job; some of my heroes are now my friends, and some of my friends became my heroes; and we moved into a brilliant house in Flint. I don’t think I’ve earned or deserve such a great life.
When I was diagnosed with prostate cancer at 44 years of age… well, I have to admit I didn’t see that one coming. It’s in its early stages, and since there is no way to tell how aggressive the cancer is, I’ve elected for a radical prostatectomy. If I were twenty-years older I might elect to not treat it at all, taking the gamble that the cancer was slow growing and something else was likely to kill me first, but at 44, even the less aggressive form could kill me by the time I reached 64, when David would be twenty-eight and still in need of full time care.
I’ve also been making strides to improve my health. I’ve treated my body like a garbage disposal for so long that at 44 I’ve not only managed to get cancer, but dangerously high blood pressure and some pretty scary cholesterol levels. Eventually, I intend on becoming a full-fledged vegan, who occasionally cheats on the full moon. So far I’ve knocked off all red meat and dairy products. If you know me, that constitutes a RADICAL change in diet. I also try not to stuff myself and only drink soft drinks once or twice a week.
I have attempted some rudimentary yoga positions, and attempted to center myself through meditation. The latter two being no easy task when confronted with the reality that is the Boo Monster, who requires constant attention and who makes certain that NOTHING non- David related will be accomplished while he’s home from school and awake. I empathize with the Japanese military in the classic Toho monster movies, realizing that the best way to deal with Godzilla is to wait until he wades off in the ocean to take a nap before even attempting to clean up after him. Unlike Godzilla, David’s path of destruction is usually a jolly one with no malicious intent at all. His energy is amazing. Before last night he stayed up for 36hours straight.
Hopefully, this semi-daily blog will help other people in my position and hopefully help other men who are relatively young that find they have developed prostate cancer.
My support system has been nothing less than astonishing. I’m putting this entry up before I can ask permission to name the unexpected angels and warriors who have helped me so much in the last few months. The stories of their selflessness will be the subject future entries.
I love you guys.