fifty-nine days away

In 59 days, Banjo Man and I will be arriving in Spokane.  Last night I received an email from Southwest stating they have changed our flights.  No surprise there.  Southwest is very good at changing flights.

I just hope they don’t cancel them entirely, the way they did last year.

So instead of arriving at midnight, we are landing at 2:30 pm.  We’d planned to spend the night in Spokane, but I don’t know what we’re doing now.

We are arriving in June instead of April due to Banjo Man needing surgery.

I haven’t blogged about this before now.  But it’s time.

Last October, two days before the tree fell on the roof, we suspected Banjo Man would be dealing with prostate cancer.   Blood tests showed his PSA number had risen quite a bit.  A special scan before Thanksgiving showed there was cancer localized on one edge of the prostate.

Extensive biopsies in early January showed that he was in more trouble than anyone imagined.  Prostate cancer is measured by a Gleason score, 1-10.  We were dealing with 9/10 on all sixteen samples taken.  It’s a very aggressive cancer.

As explained to us:  this cancer can’t be cured, but it can be treated.

That’s the important thing to remember.

We fought cancer three years ago.  And we will do it again.

We opted for hormone treatments combined with radiation instead of surgery. Unfortunately, after several weeks of brutal side affects, a trip to the ER and radiation having to be postponed, Banjo Man is back to the surgical option.

And that happens on Monday,  April 18th, in New Haven.  Banjo Man has a top surgeon who has performed over 2500 robotic prostate removals.   This guy is the real deal and we are so lucky he agreed to operate.

There is a 15% chance this surgery will cure the cancer.

There is either an 85% chance or a 50% chance he will need radiation within the year.  That number depends on which doctor we’re talking to.

The surgery won’t be easy, nor will the recovery.  But four weeks later he should be back to normal.  There will be no procedures, shots or radiation for at least six months.

Which gives Banjo Man plenty of time to enjoy his cabin.

Banjo Man in his happy place.

And that is where you will find him this summer.  We’ve become really good at “enjoying the moment” and that’s exactly what is going to happen in the future.

So on April 18, say a prayer.  Cross your fingers.  Think good thoughts.

Until then, you can find us on the couch in front of the tv.  We’re resting up for what’s ahead.  And eating popcorn.



This entry was posted in family, rhode island, the cancer fight. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to fifty-nine days away

  1. TomF says:

    Love that guy with the water jug. Very Comfortable on the front porch.

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