How It Began

In January of 2024, I was noticing a number of different maladies that I couldn't explain. Fatigue was a big one. I had caught COVID-19 at least once before, in November of 2022, and fatigue is a well-known symptom of long covid. Did I have long covid?

My wife had also had surgery to repair a tendon in her right foot in July 2023, so neither of us were very active before and especially after that surgery. We believe the tendon tore loose as early as May, so we curtailed our usual hiking, biking, and kayaking in favor of keeping her off her feet as much as possible. After the surgery, she was told not to bear weight on that foot for the next six weeks. That certainly kept us both pretty close to home (and inactive) but, even after that six weeks, she had physical therapy and a slower healing process than either of us had predicted. Essentially, we were both mostly inactive from May 2023 through the end of the year. Was the fatigue I was feeling from being completely out of shape?

To deal with that, I started thinking about getting a Total Gym. (It was January, after all.) I could exercise at home, starting as slowly as I needed and hopefully working up to something that would give me more stamina.

I had also developed a rather constant need to clear my throat. Sometimes it was worse than others. Sometimes it was more constant coughing than throat clearing. At night, lying in bed, I was feeling some strange, almost bubbly sensation at the end of my exhales. I had started vaping THC during 2023, so I sort of wrote this off to the effects of vaping and quit that cold turkey. 

Finally, I had a lot of minor aches, many of them in my legs, hips, and lower back. I lumped this in with being out of shape, which only motivated me more to purchase that Total Gym.

On January 31, I was able to get in to see my doctor for a checkup, and hopefully get some clarification about these things that were bothering me. As is now usual for my checkups, I have bloodwork done beforehand. At the appointment, my doctor was concerned about my elevated PSA (Prostate-Specific Antigen). Apparently, the normal level for men my age would be 4 or under. Mine was 27.5. After a couple other tests (digital and urine) my doctor suspected that it was a prostate infection, and put me on a month-long course of antibiotic. 

During the month of February, taking the antibiotic religiously, all of the maladies mentioned above persisted, and even felt worse at times. On my best days, I was tired and had very little energy. On my worst days, it felt like I had a mild flu. Little did I know that this was all about to get worse.

Suspecting that maybe this wasn't an infection after all, I went in for another blood/PSA test on March 1, the day after I finished the antibiotic. March 1 was a Friday. My doctor called me on March 2 -- a Saturday! -- to tell me that my PSA now measured 95.8. It had almost quadrupled during the month of February. He immediately referred me to a Urologist who was to contact me on Monday, March 4. 

After an initial meeting with the urologist, we were all pretty sure I had prostate cancer. When I mentioned all the other maladies I was having, he also suspected that it may have spread. "Prostate cancer likes bones," is how he phrased it. We did a relatively rudimentary x-ray at the office that day, in hopes that it might reveal something about why my hips and back were hurting. It showed nothing, but he warned me that this was often the case with basic x-rays. The next step was to schedule me for a prostate biopsy and ultrasound. This would be a definitive test. We scheduled it for Monday, March 11 with a follow-up appointment to discuss the results on March 12.

Unfortunately for me, the biopsy showed that my prostate was full of cancer. It was "graded" 8-9 on a scale of 10. Not good. People talk about life-changing events, and often hyperbolically. This was absolutely a life-changing event. Not only did I have cancer, but it was aggressive. I might have suspected that I had cancer with those PSA numbers (especially the second one) but having it medically confirmed was an absolute blow to me and my family.

To make matters worse on the daily health front, the stress of all this gave me a peptic ulcer. The phrase, "to make matters worse" should not be taken lightly here. On days when my hips and back were hurting and the ulcer was flaring up, I was literally immobile on the couch. Plus, all three of us were dealing with the depression at the news of what we did know as well as fear at the news we didn't yet know.

This was the start of a depressing and stressful journey.