I Did It, But At What Cost

It's a little after 3:00 p.m. You're just walking out of an office building after seeing a doctor. Your life isn't what it was just hours ago. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. And what the doctor said came with a weight that was like a mountain on your shoulders.

Instead of being sick, feeling any symptoms, or having any idea something was wrong, you're already where I was that day. You're already in stage IV of an aggressively growing, ruthlessly destroying form of cancer. The disease is so far along that your entire body seems infected with it, and the doctor tells you that you should see a lawyer.

That's right, a lawyer.

There's going to be chemotherapy. There will be more tests. But you're going to have to carry the reality around with you. You'll have to face it each day. And ultimately, nothing will ever be the same. How could it be?

Eventually, you're given a date. It'll sit with you as much as the diagnosis, and even more at times. The doctors will estimate how long, with your current amount of cancer, the type of cancer, and the aggressiveness of the cancer, you'll live. And that can feel like an anvil anchored around your neck.

What's the date? What's the best-case scenario?

Mine was August 2026.

The Reckoning

The reckoning came as I stepped outside of the clinic in early 2024. I stepped outside, fighting back emotions, desperately trying to get to a spot where I was alone. Sure, I put on a brave face. But it had cracks like a poorly constructed foundation. It wasn't going to last, and it didn't. It didn't last long enough to get my car door closed.

Fear, dismay, fear, panic, heartbreak, more fear, and then came the lightning bolt that shot right through me as I sat there, staring at a Taco John's sign in Davenport, Iowa. Anger! It settled in pretty fast. It consumed me over that hours-long drive home.

I was only 52 then. And the doctors weren't predicting I would have a chance at seeing 55.

Again, there was this monumental challenge in front of me. I'd already led a very challenging life. Why me?

The Cost of Success

Succeeding in beating the numbers was the job at hand. But how? How does a man beat fate? Unfortunately, I was never the most disciplined of people. Self-discipline wasn't my strong suit. And I was already dealing with other issues that made things less than easy.

But here I am. After swearing that I'd prove the specialist wrong, that I'd beat 3 years, I did that over a month ago. It's been a long period, and much about me has changed. Life certainly didn't get easier.

But I succeeded. What was the cost, besides the financial burdens of fighting cancer?

In the case of Prostate cancer, there are two very real issues at hand. One is that it threatens your life when you are this far down the hole. It had spread to virtually every part of my body except my brain. I really had little doubt when I looked at the results that I was dying.

The other is that the treatment and pharmaceuticals rob you of things. And there's a choice. Take the drugs and accept the side effects and complications, or don't take the drugs and let the disease run its course. It seems like an easy decision, but it's never as easy as it sounds.

The drugs caused long-term, severe edema in my feet. Those things you walk on. Imagine putting on a pair of work boots in the morning and needing a pry bar to get them off at night. Yes, my feet swelled so much that it was a chore to take off my boots.

Walking becomes harder, and without your balance, hiking certain terrains becomes next to impossible. And when your feet swell to the extremes I have seen mine, it's taken about two years, and now I'll admit to a disability. The front of my left foot is practically deformed from my feet swelling in my boots so much that it made my toes curl inward. Today, I can't knowingly, or without forcing them, straighten them so they don't look like a fist.

The other physical ailments of dealing with something like this are a pain in the...you know what! Being stripped of testosterone as a young 52-year-old, it changes you. You don't realize how much testosterone matters until you lose it.

But I am alive. And with every day I manage to squeeze out of this, I can still chase a dream. Sure, I may not be able to run well, but I can still speed-walk after it.

How do I think I made it this far? Well, it comes down to the doctors, even though they obviously expected I'd be one of those who does go quicker than not, being a stubborn S.O.B., and Turkey Tail Mushrooms helping to maintain my immune system, stave off other health issues, and help my body fight.

Living with cancer sucks. But the opposite-that's pretty permanent. So, with the pain becoming a regular thing, a limit to what I can physically do, and no idea how long I can stretch my story, I continue.

Guys, talk to your doctors and get checked, and the earlier the better. Because no matter how good a spin I might put on this, in case you aren't catching it, the truth is that it really F'n sucks.