My story starts in the spring of 2016 with a sudden sharp pain about where my stomach is, when I got in to see a doctor in the family clinic that we were members in he suspected an ulcer. At the time I mentioned that my flow was reduced as well. His response was that they only deal with one issue at a time. As it turns out they were both symptoms of prostrate cancer and if he had done a simple digital exam he could have diagnosed my cancer then and there and saved me months of scans and tests and not knowing. I will never again accept the statement that they will only consider one issue at a time, and I suggest that you don’t ether.
One of the aforementioned tests was a look inside my bladder with a camera. When I registered at the hospital I was given a gown and told where to change then wait in the waiting area. When the nurse called me for the procedure she asked the same questions that I answered at the reception desk, when I asked why she asked questions that I had already answered she said they had to make sure they had the correct patient to which I thought if they knew why I was here there isn’t a man in town that would pretend to be me. The Urologist subscribed to the bandage theory (the faster you pull the less it hurts), if any Urologists are reading this the bandage theory doesn’t apply in this case. I suspect that he had trouble getting the camera past my prostrate because once he was done with the camera he did a digital exam and said my prostrate felt funny and yet he wasn’t laughing. So he cancelled the procedure that would have sent a camera passed the bladder to the kidneys and instead booked a biopsy.
When doing a prostrate biopsy they use an ultrasonic probe to guide the needle, when inserting the probe he said I would feel a little pressure, he was lucky he was behind me where I couldn’t see him because it felt like he shoved a cucumber halfway up my but, and not one of those skinny English cucumbers. If you are ever in BGH and you see finger sized dents in the rail of a gurney it might have been me.
It took some time to get the results, (I think the Urologist had them for a little while) but when they did come in I was a 10 out of 10 on the Gleason scale. When the office called to tell me the results were in I asked if I could come to the office now and they said yes, it was one of very few times my wife didn’t come with me as she was shopping when the office called, and since she wasn’t home when I got home, and this wasn’t news that should be delivered over the phone or by text, I simply texted “bring home some mix”. I was well into my second double (triple) Kraken (dark rum) on the rocks when she did get home, so I added a little coke to my drink and filled her in on what I could remember. The hardest part of this whole journey was the call to tell our sons that I had cancer, not knowing if I would be able to beat it or not. The one thing that the Urologist did right was to get me into the Juravinski cancer clinic right away.
My treatments started with chemo and one day I was about an hour into a three hour bag when I noticed a security guard in the entrance way, something I had never seen before, a short time latter a woman went by wearing a level “A” fully encapsulizing hazmat suit. The next time a nurse came close I asked what was going on and she said there was a chemo spill. To which I thought you are going to extraordinary measures for cleanup, and yet you are pumping it into my arm.
After months of chemo my next course of treatment was chemo on Monday and radiation 5 times a week for 7 weeks with the last treatment on December 20th. On the 20th the technician said that the side effects would continue to get worse for about a week which took me to Christmas, (Merry F#$K!N Christmas) anyone that has had radiation therapy knows how fatiguing it is. After Christmas the fatigue started to get better, but months later my energy never got above about 70%.
I should mention that I am a retired Toronto Firefighter (35 years), and also a City of Brantford Councillor for over 20 years. In the years since my treatment I have had to pass on seeking the nomination for both MP and MPP strictly due to the lack of energy from my cancer fatigue. I recently heard someone say that it takes 2 months of recovery for every month of treatment to get over the fatigue. To that I say HOGWASH my fatigue has gotten worse especially since the spring when the pharmacy changed the dose of my hormone therapy without telling me which resulted in me taking a double dose for about a month, as a result I can’t climb stairs without pulling on the handrail or on all fours if there isn’t a railing. As luck would have it the Mayor was unable to attend a cancer survivors event being held in Brantford and I attended to bring greetings in his stead, and that is where I found out about the Cancer Fatigue Clinic.
As I write this I have started my third 6 week prescription, and while progress is slow and at times it seems that I have traded cancer fatigue for exercise fatigue at least things are now going in the right direction. It was week 5 when I first noticed the improvement, we travelled to Vancouver to visit our son and daughter in law I was able to maintain a faster walking pace than I expected even when going up slight inclines that would previously slowed me to a snails pace. However it was after lunch that I noticed something else, the walk to the washroom that was just across the food court and down a short hall and back wiped me out. So I believe that when my body is busy digesting food I don’t have the energy to do much else, and now plan my activities accordingly.
I was a little skeptical about the program but my quality of life has dropped so far I was willing to try anything. And with each retest I have had a slight improvement. So as I said at the start don’t let anyone dictate a lack of treatment, insist on the treatment you need and deserve. And good luck with whatever stage of treatment or recovery you are currently experiencing. And wish me luck as I continue working to regain my life.
Greg Martin
