Six weeks after my operation in June I had a blood test and follow up appointment with the surgeon. He apologized, but said it was bad news. As I suspected, my PSA was way too high (5•95) which means they didn't get all the cancer with the operation. That was a real blow - I was sick to my stomach.
He sketched out the path for treatment: another trip through the atomic donut to try find the source of the cancer then 7 weeks of radiotherapy treatment 5 days a week. While we were waiting for that to start I was put on anti testosterone injections, one a month for 6 months. They go straight into the belly - very slowly - and sit there in a lump, gradually diffusing. They're painful, ugly, and cause mood swings and hot flushes. I know they're keeping me alive, but I approached every fourth Monday with trepidation. They are accompanied by massive daily doses of calcium and vitamin D to try avoid osteoporosis.
In mid-September I had my scintigraph in Tours. We arrived 10 minutes early and then had to sit around for about an hour because they had run out of "product" and were awaiting more from the lab. Whether the "product" they were talking about was saline drip or the atomic isotope I don't know.
Anyway... After a long wait I was called into the room, a vein in my arm was found, and the catheter inserted. I was attached to two bags of liquid and left for about 10 minutes. Then the technician reappeared with a metal canister that looked like a high tech - but small - teapot. She hid behind a screen, attached the capsule to my catheter and turned in on using a long stick thing. Remember - she was hiding from it, yet it was going into me.
A couple of weeks later, and a month after my first injection, I had a blood test, and almost celebrations. My PSA was way down to 0•09. I was pleased, but aware that it should be zero.
Then the hospital rang, with an appointment with an oncologist, who said my blood test result was "very good but not excellent". He prescribed a second set of hormone treatment, this time daily tablets in addition to the monthly injections. He also increased the already unfeasible daily dose of calcium and vitamin D.
He also gave us a window to visit Australia. By this time I was spending a fair bit of each day in a fog. I wasn't sleeping properly, just napping for two hours at a time, getting horrendous migraine like headaches, and struggling to think.
Once we returned from our hectic time away, in December I had a blood test, and more almost celebrations. My PSA was <0•03, which is basically within the margin of error of zero.
In late January I had another blood test, and once again my PSA was <0•03. I also had another scintigraph, which showed the areas of concern were disappearing and there was no metastasis. We saw the oncologist, who said the results were excellent and changed my injections to one every six months, still taking the daily tablets and calcium and vitamin D. He also made me an appointment with a physiotherapist, who has given me some very effective exercises and techniques for dealing with the damage done by the operation.
We see the surgeon on Friday, for a post op follow-up. Not quite sure why...
But in short: I'm getting there, even though it has been absolutely no fun. The bladder control isn't all it could be, especially when I'm stressed or tired. I will still have to have the seven weeks of radiotherapy, and it could be I'm on the six monthly injections for years to come. Sometimes I feel like the side effects of the treatment are worse than the illness, but I'm guessing that's only because it was diagnosed before the symptoms appeared.
