Ah what the hell....being as I am in the neighborhood I might as well throw in a few lines on the subject matter.
Prostate cancer is not one of the more fun things I have experienced in life. At this point the treatment seems worse than the disease, although I am really having to stretch it to complain. I do not have to put up with chemotherapy, I'm not losing my hair (OK, at least not due to chemotherapy), I am strong enough to sit here with a fairly clear mind and negotiate the keyboard, so what's there to bitch about?
For starters.....radiation, it was my choice as the less "invasive" option, and to be honest the only real option I have short of doing nothing. But the thing about radiation is that it's not as innocuous as I had hoped. I have not had a "normal" whiz or bowel movement in quite some time, the problems range from an inconvenience to damn near torture at times.....but, you get used to it. And then there is the fatigue. The medications I am taking seem to add to the somewhat overwhelming lack of energy brought on by the radiation treatments.
With 23 sessions under my belt (no pun intended), I have only about two more weeks left. That doesn't mean the side-effects will end, to the contrary, some will show up or worsen months down the road.
My "mental state" presents a challenge at times because I just plain get tired of it....the side effects I mean. The prospect of death no longer looms large over my head, now it is more of a logistical problem. Occaisonally I worry that my urinary system is going to shut down entirely, and I will be subjected to the cruel and unusual punishment of life with a Foley Catheter....this is *NOT* something desireable! fortunately it is also not likely to happen, it just FEELS like my urinary system is on the verge of collapse. Such frequent and painful unproductive trips to the bathroom get to be a drag....no BS, it sucks!
I would be lying if I did not admit that on one occaison I found myself driving around in the middle of the night, despondent would probably be an accurate description, and the fleeting thought of guiding the Hyundai head-on into an 18-wheeler had some meritous appeal. Like most such moments of extreme anguish, that thought obviously was not acted on.
So, what's left....the realization that life goes on. One second at a time, followed by days, weeks, months, years. How many? Only the sublime odds-maker knows for sure. I can waste my energy contemplating possible scenarios, but that's all it is, a waste of time.
A better course would be to accept the inevitable. Shortly my torment will be defined as returning to a pretty much pointless job in which my numerous talents are mostly underutilized, that I am surrounded by people far less gifted than I who control my financial destiny, and that by and large life (as we make it) in the work-a-day world is a bitch!
This is not to say I am powerless, but the fact that I have a "pre-existing condition" may cloud the waters of my career choices, the biggest factor of course is my own motivation, this is true with everybody. I may feel I have some "rights" for having invested 8 years of my life with a large corporation that does not choose to utilize my skills, but the fact is I have been paid along the way, and not ONCE did anyone ever point a gun to my head and FORCE me to set foot on the property.
Looking for the silver lining, it's there, I just need to look a little harder!
Cheers and good luck with everyone's investing!
Hubert |
