Once again, Gloria came with me (she's a brick) and still didn't bring her laptop. You know it's serious when she's paying attention like that! The waiting room was light and airy and there was a low buzz of activity as people wandered in and out, some carrying folders, others looking important. We waited with a few other folk - a lot of old men, unsurprisingly - and pondered the fact that cancer patients can get free parking. One wonders why particularly that group is singled out for that privilege.
However, after a little while, the same nurse who had calmly and clearly explained the facts of prostate cancer to us previously walked up and away we went to see the oncologist. She was a very nice lady who worked with the senior oncologist (another lady) and wanted to tell me much about everything that we had already heard. It was still useful though. She clarified the aspects of the operation and ensured we understood the side effects and then she said that she would be putting me forward for treatment as soon as possible.
This would involve meeting with the radiological team who were to perform the op, along with the oncologist and urologist - there's a lot of people involved to deal with a tiny bit of my anatomy, about the size of a walnut! At the same time, the iodine-125 seeds would be specially ordered. We learned that these alone cost around £8000. Factor in the cost of care, surgery and support services and I'm suddenly getting a big deal out of the NHS.
My support nurse then took us away for another chat in which we explored all the possible side effects and what would be done about them. Funny how you can quite happily talk about your most personal functions - urination, bowel movements and sexual activity - with a complete stranger as if it was perfectly normal.
The upshot is that after the operation, I will wake up catheterised (with a tube up my penis to allow the urine to flow unobstructed) and this will be removed the next day. They'll then establish whether I can pass water without it. All being well, this means I can leave hospital and limp home. I'm going to be sore in the nether regions because the needles that are used to insert the radioactive material are pushed in through the perineum - the bit of flesh between the anus and the testicles.
After around seven to ten days, I'll then start to get some of the symptoms from the radiation. These will include discomfort passing water and possibly either obstruction in that process, or, worse still, no obstruction - lack of control. I'll be able to have sex "when you feel comfortable" - hmm, fancy a quickie, Gloria? During sex, I shall need to use condoms as I may pass one of the seeds - not a good thing to do when you're trying to impress your mate.
Also, there may be bowel issues - soreness and pain in making bowel movements and sometimes the onset of "looseness" - don't you love these descriptions?
All in all, this will last for up to seven weeks and then begin to die down as the radiation half-life runs out. If Gloria has not left me by that point, then I should be able to return to a semblance of normality. However, I'll be followed up for five years.
This game is well understood and the rules are clear. As I remarked in an earlier post, the mincing machine grinds on relentlessly and, to illustrate the point, I very rapidly received my pre-op appointment and the date for my op. Mid-February is going to be interesting ...
No comments:
Post a Comment