Support Group Meeting

Tomorrow I'm driving to Pueblo, Colorado to attend my first UsTOO support group meeting. I've never been strong on groups. All of the groups and clubs I've joined in the past have been duds, except for one, which isn't so much a club as a like-minded bunch who enjoy getting together each month and talking about their favorite hobby.

I suspect this PC support group will be different. Prostate cancer isn't a hobby. It's a reminder that life is short, we are all mortal and the journey will end sooner or later. I think having PC is a good thing in that it brings the doorway into view for the first time. We all know it's out there, the door to the undiscovered country, but I think most of us don't really believe it. Too far in the future (whatever that is), too abstract and mostly something other people have to experience. Not any more.

The more I think about this, the more I am convinced that as Lincoln was supposed to have said, "It's not the years in the life, but the life in the years." I am not signing up for a short segment of life lived with awful and undignified side effects. Personal quality of life and medical ethics should intersect in a doctor's office, although it has been my experience that it most often does not. And, from the source materials I read, especially the book, The Invasion of the Prostate Snatchers, that healing intersection does not exist for the majority of health professionals dealing with men with prostate cancer.

One of the authors of The Invasion of the Prostate Snatchers, diagnosed with PC and unwilling to be pushed into surgery, was told variations on, 'you are stupid', 'you'll be dead in a year', 'we'll schedule you for next Tuesday." Although during the diagnosis meeting, I got the signs that my urologist was harried, new to the profession, pushy and totally unfamiliar with doctor-patient relationships and the caution to 'do no harm' and fired him later than I should have, reading his notes later told the same sad tale. Even though my incidence is low-grade and low risk with no evidence of the cancer spreading anywhere else, he noted that he thought I shouldn't do watchful waiting because, "of the risks". He didn't bother to elaborate on what those risks are. Probably because they are low to non-existent, given my condition and age.

A 2008 study by the Mayo Clinic published in the Journal of Urology, April 2008 shows that only 2% of men with Intermediate-Risk and only 5% of men with High-risk PC die from it within ten years. So, given my Low-risk status, and age of seventy years, what kind of risk drove my urologist to state that I should undergo surgery because of the "risks"? I think one of the reasons might be that he wants to operate. That's what he does.

Right after the diagnosis in his office, accompanied by "facts" from my tests and biopsy fired at a machine gun rate, without benefit of consulting or explaining the actual findings themselves (he kept all of the paperwork to himself) he launched into a commercial for robotic surgery, which, it turned out, he was specializing in. He didn't spare the details, although all of his details were good. He didn't talk about the dark side, possible complications of the surgery itself, the extreme difficulty of doing the surgery right even for those who were vastly experienced and capable. Which he was not. He didn't mention that one of the most imminent urologists in the country stated that the would only operate on a man over seventy if both of the patient's parents were also in the OR. Like, never happen.

I subsequently learned that in order for a surgeon to be very good at robotic PC surgery, the average level of experience needed is 240 operations. Taking into account the number of years my guy had been in practice, multiplied by the standing of the medical school he'd graduated from, I figured he was going to need another ten or fifteen years before he would be at the level I'd trust to even seriously consider him doing such a procedure on me.

One of the big reasons I want to attend the support group meeting is that I need the reality-based opinions, knowledge and experience of others who have gone down this road before. It is too often the patient, hearing the words, "you've got cancer", is so vulnerable that he is too open to bad advice given by authority figures at the time. Good thing for me that I am stubborn, cynical and a born "refusenik", to use Ralph Blum's term, or I might have put myself in the hands of a doctor who was not so much concerned about the overall health and well being of his patient, but his own career and practice. If I sound harsh, well, it is a harsh reality.

It's a minefield out there and you have to choose your path carefully. Make sure it is your path, not someone else's. After all, it's your life to live how you choose.