• I found a the best urologist in Houston and his name is Dr. Ricardo Gonzales one of the principals at the Houston Metro Urology Center. Several of the Pals in our membership have had their "issues" handled by Dr. Gonzales with it was surgery before they received radiation. Surgery after radiation could make things worse and the outcome is not all certain.
   

• If you have an enlarged prostate or BPH (benign prostatic hypertrophy), when diagnosed, I'd strongly urge you to seek counsel with your oncologist to see if a procedure, like the Laserlight TURP, is in order. This has worked wonders with several ProtonPals, two that I know personally. In fact one thought he was "cured" after that Laserlight treatment.
  
  
• The wonders of innovative medicine are at work delivering help in this common area. Common in that you see countless commercials about overactive bladder and your plumbing cartoon in bronze. Two medicines that are favored by this top urologist are Alergan's Sanctura XR and Novartis' Enablex. I have two months experience with Sanctura and the effect was almost immediate. Like all good things it has side effects that you'll have to manage. 
   
• Surgery was not recommended for me by the urologist nor by Dr. Lee and for now it's medical therapy.  
   

Alfred tapped the gong lightly at his graduation on Monday.  Mike banged it loudly on Friday the week before.  Alfred and Mike are like left and right brackets that mark the diversity of fellow patients that come and go each day through the "gown room."  Alfred is the genteel southerner from Tennessee - retired phone man.  He grins widely and speaks softly.  Mike is the gregarious northerner from upstate New York -- finance and insurance maven, also retired.  He has a sharp sense of humor.  (He needles the radiation technician as she readies insertion of the balloon: "I need to tell you something," he says.  "What," she asks?  "Come closer," he says.  She moves closer.  He whispers: "Don't touch me there unless you love me.")

The technicians take it all in stride and give back as much as they take.  They keep our spirits up.  They declared Friday this week as "Hawaiian Day."  (I asked, why?  Nobody seemed to know.  It was just fun, that's all.)  The Center was festively decorated.  Men wore Hawaiian shirts; women grass skirts.  We were given leis and refreshments. Treatments are being completed on schedule.  We're not backed up.  It's a good day.

As we wait our turn, we of the gown get to know one another a little better.  Bill from Houston runs a printing business; Rodger is a retired DNR forester from Iowa; Tom is a Texas high school biology teacher; Bob from Colorado is an energy consultant; Sid, oil and gas engineer on rotation from Dubai (his next assignment to Algeria has been postponed); Ned, Houston attorney; Ray, a retired petroleum instrument engineer expatriated years ago from Massachusetts to the N. Padre Island boating community, ("The best place the world to live," he says); Joe: retired electrical contractor from Pennsylvania; Jim: former Texas congressman, nee Washington lobbyist  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Chapman).  Here, we're simply prostate cancer patients with different life stories.

The wife and I bump into Jim at the apartment house later that day on our way to the community room.  Jim joins us for coffee and conversation.  We get the insider's view of Washington politics.  His career as a politician ended some years ago in a run off for the Senate ("Voters reserve the right to be wrong," he observes wryly).  He laments the extreme partisanship now prevalent in Washington.  In his days in government, there was more friendship and cooperation between Republicans and Democrats.  Now, he says, they won't even step into each other's office.  He traces the beginning to the political lines drawn in the election of 1994 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Contract_with_America).  (Disclaimer:  I take no sides and merely report Jim's personal opinion.)

There's an informal dinner planned by patients of the Proton Center for the evening at the "Saltgrass Steak House" (highly recommended).  We had not planned to go, but Jim offers us a ride and we accept.  We arrive late.  There are approximately forty others already seated -- husbands, wives, others -- mostly gray haired grizzlies, like us  - it looks like senior's night out.   

We're seated next to Dan, a prostate patient, and his wife from Dallas.  Dan works for an investment company that buys pre-packaged mortgages at auction from banks and the FDIC.  The market for distressed mortgages is firming up, he says.  Across the table is another gentleman and companion from Georgia.  He's receiving proton treatment for esophageal cancer.  Following dinner, there's a round robin of personal introductions.  Most are from Texas.  One couple is from southern Illinois.  Talk centers on the stage of our treatment, the reason for our choice of proton therapy at MD Anderson, and our hopes for a successful outcome.  There's much congeniality.  Once strangers from distant places, we are now friends seated in common bond.

This week marks the halfway point to the finish.  The success of my treatment won't be known for sometime thereafter.  Blood samples will be taken periodically over months and years to track my PSA.  As long as it remains stable within a low range, it can be assumed that the cancer has been contained. 

I remain optimistically hopeful . . .

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

(was written in early 2010 by a Pal.)