This is one of several essays from my private cancer journal. It is not intended as anything than a record of my states of mind as I struggled with the disease and the effects of the treatment.
Here we go again:
Go to Part I
I finally got my PSA from the May 26 blood draw.
It was 238.7 so the pattern is clear:
January = 3.6
March = 30.7
April = 96.6
May = 238.7
So much for androgen withdrawl response.
I stare at that 238 number and wonder why I am not upset. Maybe because I expected it. Maybe I'm getting used to this damned ride, whatever the hell that means.
Don't get me wrong. I'm hardly thrilled. Then again, maybe it will hit me later. I've been through so many ups and downs with this disease. One thing I can't do is worry. It accomplishes nothing.
I see my oncologist in a couple of weeks and I guess we'll go with Plan A: back on the drugs. Maybe my system has cleaned out enough so they'll bite again.
If not, then Plan B, whatever the hell that will be.
At least I am pain-free, providing I don't walk more than 10 feet or stand more than a minute. It is exertion, even emotional, that is exhausting, followed by pain.
That the stock market could do so well.