Since my early thirties, I have regularly had prostate exams. In fact, as I noted in part one of my article, I was alerted through the free tests I had taken last September that my PSA scores were somewhat elevated. After having several PSA tests done this year through my healthcare provider, I knew it was time for me to kick things into gear and get a handle on my health.
And, up until now, over the past decade I have attempted to manage my symptoms - sometimes with and without the assistance of doctors. Many times I would take the prescribed medications on an as-needed basis, since I am not a fan of medication and the side effects that often occur. I just figured I would have to live with a certain level of discomfort for the rest of my life.
Conversely, in my late thirties, after having continuous elevated PSA scores combined with a number of symptoms, I was faced with the decision of having a prostate biopsy. As opposed to having one, I literally put my head in the sand, choosing to ignore my doctor’s request. I kept this close to the vest not sharing this with anyone – until recently. Yes, I know it was a foolish decision; I literally played Russian Roulette with my life. I just couldn’t then, as I can’t today, bear the thought of having a biopsy or the thought of having cancer. Fear, at the time, just over-rode my sense of logic. I was just scared as hell about the whole process then, as I am today.
Well, earlier this summer, I was faced with the same critical decision again. It’s amazing how unresolved issues circle back around, until you’re finally forced to address them. This time, I was literally left with no options, when I realized the medications I ingested periodically weren’t providing me the relief I needed. So, my back was literally against the wall and I finally had to face my fears, moving forward with having a prostate biopsy. Boy, I was so unnerved.
Once I knew I was in biopsy mode I had to take a non-conventional approach, reaching out to about twelve folks or so in my inner circle, who I could confide in, letting them know what was occurring for my sanity, using good old-fashion email. Twitter, Facebook and other social media outlets weren’t even considered.
In order for me to cope with the biopsy, it was easier for me not to make phone calls or personal visits to most folks, especially since a number of them lived out-of town. Now there were some folks I just couldn’t tell at the time, as they were facing their own family crisis. Had the biopsy occurred prior to the days of email, I would have more than likely drafted certified letters to be sent out. Using email as a means of communication helped me to keep my emotions in tact (or so I thought) and it served as a form of therapy. It kept me from entering into a long, drawn-out conversation, which would have more than likely led to tears; I just wasn’t (and still am not) quite ready to handle.
In the emails, the recipients (or my Guardian Angles) were given strict rules on what they could ask as I was taking this journey. They were also asked not to discuss or share my email, too. I trust that they honored my request. During the process, I didn’t even tell loved ones, until after I got the results. I knew what was best for me at the time to cope with the situation. I wasn’t in a position to help others cope, while I was in need of help myself.
Yes, it was hard as hell for me then, as it still is somewhat now, to deal with the biopsy, the thought of cancer and the options that have been placed before me, since learning I am in the early stage of prostate cancer. Thank God my foolish decision to play Russian Roulette, with my health, didn’t cause my cancer to spread to a state where I had no options. That was always my unspeakable fear.
I have even had to step-up my game, seeking professional counseling for the first time in my life to get me through this ordeal. Sometimes folks, who are the closes to you, just don’t know what to say or just end up saying the wrong things.
My ultimate reason for sharing this is to urge young men in my age set of the importance of taking care of their health, going to the doctor and in having their annual prostate exams. From my story, I hope men realize the need to seek out loved ones and a support group to help through this process or,