In the winter of 2006, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. The rough indicator of this is called PSA, a measure of a Prostate Specific Antigen in your blood. Mine was elevated and going up—not a great sign. So I had a biopsy (look here for a description of how much fun that is). Biopsy showed cancer, so what to do. This is not an easy decision, but, for a variety of reasons I chose surgery. That isn’t fun, either, and has nasty side effects, but they are better than the alternative.
After recovery, your annual ritual is a blood draw and a visit to your doc. For me, this has now been going on for 8 years. Fortunately, the doc is a nice guy, and I occasionally run races with his wife, so I see him around. (he is always easy to recognize because of his scrubs). But, this year was the end of the ritual. My PSA has been 0 all these years, and there is no longer a need to go see him. WooHoo. Cancer docs never use the word “cure,” but he used it. He didn’t say it applied to me, but he did say that if he was inclined to use the word, I would be one that it would apply to. Not a definitive statement, but one that makes me happy none the less.