Just as I had worked out a strategy to postpone the ultimate defeat, the Dealer has shuffled the pack and re-dealt the cards.
My hand is worse than it was, so it’s all back to the drawing board.
The latest MRI scan has revealed that my cancer has become Intermediate on one side of my prostate. It is thinking of moving on and has started to pack its bags. Active surveillance no longer seems to be the treatment option of choice, and I’m now being offered surgery or radiotherapy with hormone treatment.
I can’t pretend I haven’t got it now and I can’t rely on positivity bluster any more. I need to act wisely and decisively. A sort of Napoleonic surgical strike.
As things are at the moment, both treatments will aim for cure, rather than management, and both treatments have the same statistical outcomes, which are good.
If I opt for surgery I can have radiotherapy later if it’s needed, but if I go for radiotherapy I can’t later have surgery. 1-0 to surgery. Surgery would remove it entirely from my body, so that’s 2-0.
Most people seem to have some degree of bladder incontinence after surgery, and some have bowel incontinence. Either of these impact on quality of life, so the score is now 2-1. The consultants are worried about the possible adverse effects a long operation would have on my MS. So radiotherapy has just equalised.
I’m leaning towards radiotherapy preceded by a course of hormone treatment to reduce the swelling of the prostate. This would start as soon as I decide, then a month later I would go to Leeds every day for four weeks for the radiotherapy itself. Some logistical issues here, but I’ll work that out. I should be fit for England selection by Christmas – bluster bluster.
Actually, I’m worried. There – I’ve said it.