The Accident That Saved My Life

It seemed like any other day. 

I am a 59-year-old, self-employed handyman, living in Plymouth, Devon. I consider myself generally fit and healthy. I had some free time, so visited my local hiking shop. I had just signed up to walk 60 miles in November to raise money for Prostate Cancer Research UK in memory of my father and was keen to buy some new kit.

Walking around the store and admiring expensive down jackets, backpacks, and other hiking ephemera had become my new secret pleasure. As I was looking at the camping stoves, I suddenly and uncontrollably wet myself. I was unable to control it, and it seemed like an eternity. The whole front of my trousers was soaked, all down one leg and my boot was full of urine. Shocked and embarrassed, I hurriedly left the store, got in my van, and drove home to shower and change. Somewhat ironically, the store was named Go Outdoors!

Because of my strong family history of prostate cancer, I receive regular PSA blood tests. PSA stands for Prostate-Specific Antigen and is detectable in the blood. High levels, can indicate the presence of prostate cancer. Only the month before I had my results which had been normal, no further action was needed. So although concerned I wasn't unduly worried by my "leaky moment"

I had a routine doctor's appointment the following week for an unrelated matter and decided to mention it then. I was given the last appointment on a Friday afternoon. The embarrassment of the previous week had faded. The appointment went well and I was about to leave and then remembered. My normal GP was away and the doctor covering his patients was female. I nearly didn't mention it, but after a brief hesitation, I did. She listened and said I need to examine your prostate…..

For those who have never had a prostate examination before, it is a simple, painless procedure, that only takes a few seconds and involves the doctor inserting a lubricated finger into your rectum. That few seconds could save your life! She asked me to get dressed and I went and sat back on the chair. "Your prostate feels abnormal," she said as she looked at her computer screen, "…and your PSA levels, although low have been consistently increasing. I'm going to refer you to Urology urgently as having possible prostate cancer"

In the movies you see the scenes where someone gets bad news and you see that look on their faces and the sound of the outside world becomes distant - that is exactly what happened. I was in total shock and disbelief. How has this happened? Why me? It's probably not! She's got it wrong! I'm sure it's not.

On the following Thursday I had an appointment to see a Consultant Urologist. Those few days in between seemed like an eternity. I went to the appointment and he asked about my general health and performed an examination. Afterward, he explained that my prostate did feel abnormal and that my steady increase in PSA suggested that I might have early-stage prostate cancer. He booked for me to have an urgent MRI scan.

My MRI scan was booked for the following Thursday. Time seemed to stand still, every day seemed like an eternity. The waiting was the worst part. The MRI scan I found difficult, probably due to my high levels of anxiety. The noise, even with the headphones on seemed overwhelming and oppressive. I closed my eyes tightly to keep at bay the feeling of claustrophobia, a new feeling for me. The scan took 40 minutes, but it felt like hours. "You will get your results in 7–10 days," the radiologist told me as I walked back to get changed out of the gown. The thought of another wait filled me with dread. "Why can't they just tell me?" I thought to myself.

I didn't have to wait that long. Four days later on Monday, I got a call from the hospital. "Please could you come to an appointment on Friday to discuss your MRI results…..and please come prepared to have a biopsy"

At that moment the reality sank in, I had cancer. Life would never be the same again.

My appointment came and yet still I was believing, hoping, praying that it was still in the early stage. The consultant I see is a brilliant surgeon, but his bedside manner is somewhat brusque. "The MRI scan shows that you have probable areas of cancer on both sides of the prostate and reasonably close to the prostate bed. We will do some biopsies and once we have the results of these in about a week, we can discuss treatment options"

At that moment the reality sank in, I had cancer. Life would never be the same again.

I realised how lucky I had been to pee myself that day. If I hadn't, it would have been at least a year until my next blood test. Things could be different after that year, as the cancer was widespread in my prostate, and could have spread throughout my body.

The biopsy procedure is called a trans-perineal prostate biopsy. Other than a sensation similar to a bee sting for a few seconds when the local anesthetic is administered it is painless and the only thing that was mildly hurt was my dignity! The procedure involves an ultrasound probe being inserted into your rectum which allows the doctor to guide the needle to the target area identified on the MRI scan. I was a little uncomfortable for a day or two following the biopsy but it was certainly not painful.

The wait for the results was excruciating! I was given an appointment 10 days after the biopsy. We arrived at the hospital, got to the hospital door and my phone rang, answered, and was told that due to staff sickness, my appointment had been cancelled. My anxiety peaked, I am normally a relatively calm laid-back person, but this time I could not hold back. I continued into the hospital and asked to see someone anyway. I wasn't rude or loud, just firm, I explained my anxiety and was told to wait. Another doctor agreed to see me and explain my results.

After a 15-minute wait, I was called into the doctor's office, and with the doctor was a specialist cancer nurse. Prostate cancer is graded under the Gleason scale, with two numbers. The first number is the most common type of cancer cells, and the second is the next most common type of cell. My score was Gleason 7 (3+4) That meant that my most common type of cancer cells was group 3 cancer and the other group 4. He explained that 15 of my 17 biopsies contained cancer and that treatment should be started soon.

The cancer was widespread in my prostate but it looked contained within the prostate and had not spread. He explained that I had two treatment options: Hormone therapy, followed by radiotherapy or surgery. Both he said had success rates of 80%. However because my cancer was widespread, if I had radiotherapy, I may not be able to have surgery later, as tissue would be damaged by the radiotherapy. The recommended option was surgery.

I immediately thought surgery was the best option for me. He then explained the impact of the surgery. The procedure is called a Robot Assisted Laparoscopic Prostatectomy (RALP) The surgeon uses a special robot that converts their hand movements into the microscopic movements needed in this surgery.

Because the location of my cancer was close to the nerve beds that stimulate erections, he could not spare the nerves and would have to remove all or most of them to ensure that no cancer was left behind. I was talked through the options post-surgery of using a vacuum pump or injections to induce an erection.

They also remove the seminal vesicles that produce semen. After a prostatectomy, it is possible to orgasm, but as semen is no longer made, it is called a dry orgasm. My mind was reeling and just when I thought it could not get any worse, he told me I would lose 1–2" of Penis length, although some of this could be regained with regular use of a vacuum pump after the operation. As a man, this was probably the thing that frightened me most.....ironic, that I would worry more about length than being able to get an erection!

There is almost certainly some post-operative incontinence after the catheter is removed and with some men, this lasts medium to long term.

How on earth could this be happening to me? Why me? All these questions were whirling around my head. I was in a total state of shock and disbelief. I have a talking therapist and had several sessions exploring and working through my feelings and emotions.

Walking became my lifesaver, up on Dartmoor, my mind could clear and I would relax. I finished my 60-mile challenge and raised £520 for Prostate Cancer Research UK.

I decided my best option to beat this was to opt for surgery. If it was not 100% successful, the option of follow-up radiotherapy was still available to me.

The surgery was booked for 7th January 2025. One of my customers is an anesthetist, and purely by chance, was booked for my surgery. The Christmas period was so hard, my stress levels were through the roof, and my fuse was very short! Anger, fear, tears, sadness, hope, and many more emotions were all in the mix.

Finally, the day arrived, I had to be at the hospital at 7.30 am. I arrived at the unit, had all the pre-op checks, and changed into my gown. My anesthetist friend then came and got me and walked into the theatre, She was very kind and reassuring. The theatre seemed full of people, and she introduced me to everyone as someone she knew. I was canulated and then asked to lay on the operating table. An overwhelming fear engulfed me, I wanted to get up and run!

A voice whispered "I will give you something to relax………" - that was the last thing I can remember.

Spoiler Alert!!! I survived! I am writing this 10 days post-op. I will relay my post-op experience in a later story and subsequent stories as my journey continues.