Category: Ed Unfiltered

19 days and counting… sounds like a reality show, though not particularly shiny and with some stuff to be happy about.

I feel like the Artemis II mission, which concluded the day I went under the knife, is an apropos metaphor for me. Surgery was my launch, rest and recovery has felt a bit like I’m orbiting the rest of the world, and now that I’m 2½ weeks out from surgery, I’m preparing for re-entry.

I’ve spent the last few days transitioning from early Dr’s orders – rest, hydration (along with the accompanying frequent bathroom trips), morning walks around the neighborhood, watering my garden, and basically living like a retiree – to mining through the vast rubble of email, AI notes from meetings that I missed, outstanding marketing projects and cases, the Salesforce pipeline (which could stand to be better), and a handful of articles about AI and the end of the world as we know it. It’s been an eventful week so far.

I am healing well, as best as I can tell without having a transparent epidermis, though I have been a bit surprised at how I’m still feeling fatigued and weak, especially in the afternoons. ChatGPT tells me that, “what [I’m] describing actually fits pretty well within the normal healing window” and honestly, it’s pretty cool to have what’s essentially my own private clinical staff that basically knows everything there is to know in the world about prostate surgery and recovery.

I’m getting physically stronger each day and still trying to get the plumbing system working on at least some semblance of a schedule so that I’m not permanently tethered to a bathroom. I’ve also had some time to reflect on the kindness of many people who have sent notes and texts, provided meals, checked in and prayed for my recovery. To be in a time of weakness and to receive the kindness and ministry of others without being able to really do anything has given me a unique window to experience the Body of Christ actually doing it’s job. And for that I am grateful a a bit humbled.

Can I say that I’m “cancer free” now? Or are there still microscopic cancer cells floating around in my body? I actually don’t know, though I’d like to think the former is the case and the latter isn’t. I had this idea in my mind that once you’re cancer free, someone in some position of authority makes an official declaration with a certificate of some kind and maybe some bottle rockets go off or something. But the reality is that I just have a pathology report that is mostly good and a followup appointment in 3 months to get my PSA tested again.

Oh, and they said I could drink a cocktail if I wanted, no restrictions.

Ed

Today marks 12 days post-surgery for me. My big news today is that I had my first post-op appointment and got my pathology report back, which was generally good, but like most things in life, not perfect. First the good. The moderately aggressive cancer I had – a prostatic adenocarcinoma if you just have to know – was relatively small and contained within my prostate. There are several “spread indicators” that get measured and they all came back negative, which is great news. The cancer had not metastasized.

The caveat is that there were some cancerous cells present “at the margin,” meaning that the cancer had reached the edge of my prostate and there’s a possibility, albeit small, that some cancer cells might still be floating around in there. The good news is that the particular type of cells at the margin were the lower-grade pattern 3, as opposed to the more aggressive pattern 4 which was evident elsewhere. That means that while the probability of a reoccurrence is low – statistically less than 5% – it’s possible that I might see it show up again, particularly since I statistically have 20-30 years left (which I guess is better than Hezekiah’s 15). I’d normally think those odds were pretty good, especially if we were talking about the chance of rain this month, were it not for the fact that my urologist gave me the same odds for the original cancer cells growing in the first place when I was diagnosed 2 years ago. And I know how that story ended.

So where does that leave me? Well, monitoring my PSA, which should now be 0, is the scorecard going forward. For a year I’ll do blood tests every 3 months and then every 6 months from then on out. So tracking my anxiety cycle should be pretty straightforward math. I think perhaps the Lord wants me to have a continual reminder that my life is entirely in his hands and to make a point to live ‘dependently.’

Pathology report aside, the doctor was pleased with my recovery so far. From my perspective, even though it’s going rather slowly, I feel like I’m progressing much better than I expected I would be. I’m told it’ll take 4-6 weeks for my body to completely heal from the procedure. As the doctor reminded me, there’s an organ that’s no longer in my body and a lot of stuff has been moved around and reconfigured. Some discomfort is supposed to be par for the course, which I’m still trying to get used to, and every day is a bit of an improvement. I’m supposed to take it really easy as far as physical activity goes, and when it comes to giving myself the best chance of my internal plumbing working the way it’s supposed to, you can bet I’m being a model patient!

To all those who have prayed, brought meals, and sent encouraging notes & emails, I give you a most hearty thank you! You’ve been a real blessing to me. May the Lord bless you and keep you and make his face to shine upon you, and give you peace.

Now that I’m 5 days post-surgery, I thought I’d share an update on how my recovery is going.  First, thanks to all of you who faithfully prayed for me.  It was with no small amount of trepidation that I went into last Friday, but God graciously let me sleep peacefully the night before instead of bailing out and running away to Mexico.  

I was first on deck for the surgery – a robotic assisted radical prostatectomy – Friday morning.  I really don’t remember much about that.  Laree reported that Dr. Nix said the procedure went well and he was pleased with the vesicourethral anastomosis (ah… the things you learn to say), and that I’d be able to remove the dreaded catheter in 5 days (i.e. today).  Just so you know, surgery day is considered day 0, so I guess that means I get a ‘bonus day’ with the dang thing still in me.  The first couple were a slurry of pain meds, excessive drinking (mostly water cocktails with a few Powerade chasers), walking laps around my bedroom, and sleeping.  I clocked a 102.7° fever for a few hours on Saturday which had us a bit on edge, but it eventually came down with some breathing exercises and Tylenol and gradually dissipated over the next couple of days.  

Laree dubbed today Freedom Day for me, and once again the Lord showed his grace in that my body now seems to be in functional working order all on its own, just not necessarily with me in charge.  That means that the frankenreconstruction is holding together and I’m probably not going to die of sepsis, much to my shock and delight.  Can you imagine what it’s like being an Enneagram 4 with cancer?  

I’m told I’ll get the pathology report back 10-14 days from surgery, but as I was categorized Stage 2B, the likelihood is that all of the abnormal cells were fully contained in the now removed prostate gland.  I’m continuing to give thanks that the redemptive work of the creation mandate includes things like excellent doctors and their robots.  Hopefully soon I’ll be able to report ‘cancer free.’  

And to everyone who contributed to meals for us, thank you so much for that blessing to us!  Grace & peace & good night.

Ed