Through the brilliant work of charities like the Bob Willis foundation, I guess most of us blokes have by now at least heard of the prostate. We know the flippin thing can kill us if we get cancer in it, and we know it's common. Beyond that, in typical male fashion we know the best part of bugger all about it. We treat it a bit like the annoying bloke next door, ignoring it, not engaging with nor showing any interest in it, hoping we never cross paths.
Fortunately for most, this approach works (and please feel free to stick with it as far as Colin from next door goes, some people simply can't be fixed). Unfortunately though for some of us, ignoring our prostate doesn't work and from there you have a bit of an issue.
My prostate story began around Summer last year. I noticed that I'd had to start getting up during the night to go for a pee a bit too often, and it wasn't even only when I'd drank loads of pints. I'd read somewhere that this could be a prostate alarm bell, so I decided to get tested (good move this as it happens, probably saved my life).
The doc explained that the old finger up the bum was a bit old school (not the school I went to but you get my drift) and these days it was all about blood tests. That suited me fine, so they took some blood and tested my PSA (prostate specific antigen) level. Apparently your prostate emits these thingies a bit like a buoy bobbing around in the ocean sending out bleeps. Not an exact science by all accounts, but they can work out roughly what it should be according to your body size and from there make a determination.
At this point I'm going to digress a little and talk about the prostate itself (I knew bugger all about it previously). Inside your tummy you have a bladder, that's where the fluid is stored before you have a pee. That bladder is connected to your todger by a thin tube which sounds like a region in Russia. Where that tube connects to your bladder, the prostate is like a washer which fits around the tube, like a little doughnut (think Jacob Rees-Mogg). It's about as big as a walnut (ditto). It's primary function (it seems to me) is to make the milky stuff that goes into sperm. If you're a doctor and I'm wrong here, now you know how Johnnie Jackson feels reading my blogs about football every week. Anyway, if you get cancer in the prostate it can cause it to swell and nip your pee tube. This means that it becomes difficult to fully empty your bladder etc, and you need to go to the loo more often.
Anyway, back to my PSA test last Summer. I scored 645 and apparently it should have been 512. They sent me away for a few weeks, told me to cut down on booze, sex and spicy foods (some were easier than others) and come back in a few weeks. Next time up I scored 828, Houston we had a problem.
From there in hospital terms I was a bit like Terry who drinks in the Alex, being that I was in there more than the fella supposed to be running the gaff. I had my "flow " tested ("like a racehorse"), had one of those things where you go inside the big X-ray tube (MRI is it?) and a biopsy. The last one they go in and chop bits of your prostate out for analysis. What was all of that like? Probably not as bad as you're imagining, but pretty flippin close to be honest.
Anyway after the MRI tube thing I had "a 58% chance" of it being cancer. After the biopsy it became 100% and it was in two places in my prostate, confirmed, cast iron. They give you a thing called a Gleason index which measures how aggressive it is. Mine was 3:3 which apparently is the equivalent in terms of aggression to around a Jake Reeves. He can get riled up, but by and large he keeps it sensible. You don't want a Vinnie Jones or an Armani Little on the old Gleeson score obviously. Most important of all though is that I was stage two, pretty early. It starts at one and goes to five. Once you get into the fours it gets decidedly dicey, at five you need a few snookers.
My options? They were firstly do bugger all. Monitor it every few months and be ready to act if Jake gets out of the wrong side of the bed one day or if someone kicks him. That didn't overly appeal to me, having it hanging over me like. Secondly it was chemotherapy. I've seen my Mum go through that, you don't need me to explain it you. I didn't fancy that overly either. The third option was to have the prostate removed, I went with that.
If you have your prostate removed, you won't be able to father any more children. I'm 57, I reckoned I could put up with that OK. Apparently it will effect sexual function too. Doesn't completely kill you off, but you'll no longer ejaculate and even getting a boner takes a bit of practice. None of the above are ideal, but under the circumstances I felt I could live with the last one the best. If I was 27 not 57 it might have been different, but I'm not so it's not.
So anyway last Thursday I had the prostate out. Three and a half hour operation, two days in hospital. I had a catheter in for a week (tube coming out of your todger and connected to your bladder, pee bag strapped to your leg). However bad you imagine this is, double it and add three. When I got home I was as sore as fuck, and I thought the recovery would be long.
This morning though (8 days after the op) I had my catheter out. I'm still a bit tender in my guts, but I can walk around no problem and if you met me you wouldn't have a clue there was owt wrong with me. I'm thinking about going to the football tomorrow, I've just had a box of KFC for lunch and I'm feeling strong. I wouldn't try and lob any drunks out of the Alex or have a tear up with an MK fan, but I'm definitely improving fast (I wouldn't have a tear up with a rival fan anyway but you get my point).
I've got some scars, I'm a bit sore. I can't have anymore kids & any dreams of being a porn star (as if!) are in the bin, but at least whatever happens I won't die of prostate cancer.
I feel lucky, so so lucky. Thankyou to all of the folks at the hospital who helped me out, you were brilliant, thankyou so so much. You can be lucky too, go get yourself checked out. That's what I've done ever since my diagnosis, urged people to get checked out. If one person reads this and thinks, "Y'know what?" then I've had a good day. 👊❤️
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