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