Surviving
April 7th 2009 07:10
I think, in spite of the painful time I had prior to my prostate op, that I’ve got off pretty lightly. Horror stories about prostate complications keep coming out of the woodwork, as it were.
On Sunday, I heard from my son’s father-in-law how his father had not only been through the prostate op at least once – it might have been twice – but was now in his old age saddled with a larger catheter than usual because he’d tried to pull the smaller gauge one out (he’s moving towards Alzheimer’s). He was literally screaming while they put this catheter in. Worse, he’d been left in the Emergency Dept for quite some time with a water retention problem. As someone who now knows from more than one experience of it, just how painful water retention is, I can’t believe that he wasn’t attended to.
Another friend of mine had told me a while ago how his first prostate op didn’t quite work so they had to go back in – and then he had water retention problems as well, and couldn’t get anything done about it for quite a number of hours.
And then yesterday I came across a book called, How We Survived Prostate Cancer: what we did and what we should have done. The book is by Victoria Hallerman, and details her husband’s painful journey through prostate cancer. It’s enough to put anyone off having any sort of treatment – if there’s an alternative.
This guy had a treatment for the prostate cancer called brachytherapy. Brachytherapy is a minimally invasive procedure involving a localized and precise radiation therapy. The therapy involves placement of tiny permanent radioactive seeds inside or next to the area of treatment. Brachytherapy used as a treatment method for prostate cancer showed 81% to 93% disease-free survival rates.
Yes, the disease may go, but the after-effects can obviously be very unpleasant. This guy is still incontinent after six years – the incontinence is treated with medication, and of course his ability to have intercourse has been severely inhibited, which has meant huge adjustments in their intimacy.
But what made me sit up and pay attention was that he had excruciating pain when going for a pee. Not just in the first weeks, but long after. So excruciating, in fact, that on one occasion when he had to go while at a restaurant, his wife could hear him screaming from where she was seated. He took to biting on a cloth to reduce the agony.
The book isn’t for the fainthearted, and I might say it should be required reading for any man (and his wife) about to go through prostate cancer treatment, whether surgery or otherwise. There are obviously more options in the States, where the book comes from, than there are in New Zealand, and one of the things the author recommends is really cross-examining doctors/surgeons as to why they say one approach is better than another. It may well depend on what the urologist favours, rather than what’s best for the patient.
Hallerman is strong on finding out as much as possible. The problem is that even the best doctors will probably not have been through any of the procedures themselves, and will have a lack of understanding of the real nature of the pain that can ensure.
I’m still uncomfortable sometimes when going to the loo; I stopped taking the anti-inflammatories a few days ago, and it’s been noticeable that some of the pain has returned. It’s not as bad as it was, and doesn’t make me grit my teeth like it did in the early stages.
It’s never been so bad that I’ve wanted to scream; sometimes it’s left me breathless, but that level of pain has reduced considerably. As I said, I've been let off pretty lightly.
I think men facing anything to do with their prostate should talk to as many men as possible about what’s likely to happen, what can happen. You find, once you start opening your mouth to other guys, that there’s a lot more information out there than you thought.
On Sunday, I heard from my son’s father-in-law how his father had not only been through the prostate op at least once – it might have been twice – but was now in his old age saddled with a larger catheter than usual because he’d tried to pull the smaller gauge one out (he’s moving towards Alzheimer’s). He was literally screaming while they put this catheter in. Worse, he’d been left in the Emergency Dept for quite some time with a water retention problem. As someone who now knows from more than one experience of it, just how painful water retention is, I can’t believe that he wasn’t attended to.
Another friend of mine had told me a while ago how his first prostate op didn’t quite work so they had to go back in – and then he had water retention problems as well, and couldn’t get anything done about it for quite a number of hours.
And then yesterday I came across a book called, How We Survived Prostate Cancer: what we did and what we should have done. The book is by Victoria Hallerman, and details her husband’s painful journey through prostate cancer. It’s enough to put anyone off having any sort of treatment – if there’s an alternative.
This guy had a treatment for the prostate cancer called brachytherapy. Brachytherapy is a minimally invasive procedure involving a localized and precise radiation therapy. The therapy involves placement of tiny permanent radioactive seeds inside or next to the area of treatment. Brachytherapy used as a treatment method for prostate cancer showed 81% to 93% disease-free survival rates.
Yes, the disease may go, but the after-effects can obviously be very unpleasant. This guy is still incontinent after six years – the incontinence is treated with medication, and of course his ability to have intercourse has been severely inhibited, which has meant huge adjustments in their intimacy.
But what made me sit up and pay attention was that he had excruciating pain when going for a pee. Not just in the first weeks, but long after. So excruciating, in fact, that on one occasion when he had to go while at a restaurant, his wife could hear him screaming from where she was seated. He took to biting on a cloth to reduce the agony.
The book isn’t for the fainthearted, and I might say it should be required reading for any man (and his wife) about to go through prostate cancer treatment, whether surgery or otherwise. There are obviously more options in the States, where the book comes from, than there are in New Zealand, and one of the things the author recommends is really cross-examining doctors/surgeons as to why they say one approach is better than another. It may well depend on what the urologist favours, rather than what’s best for the patient.
Hallerman is strong on finding out as much as possible. The problem is that even the best doctors will probably not have been through any of the procedures themselves, and will have a lack of understanding of the real nature of the pain that can ensure.
I’m still uncomfortable sometimes when going to the loo; I stopped taking the anti-inflammatories a few days ago, and it’s been noticeable that some of the pain has returned. It’s not as bad as it was, and doesn’t make me grit my teeth like it did in the early stages.
It’s never been so bad that I’ve wanted to scream; sometimes it’s left me breathless, but that level of pain has reduced considerably. As I said, I've been let off pretty lightly.
I think men facing anything to do with their prostate should talk to as many men as possible about what’s likely to happen, what can happen. You find, once you start opening your mouth to other guys, that there’s a lot more information out there than you thought.
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