My Prostate Cancer Reflections
It’s been one week since my radical prostatectomy surgery. In the week leading up to it, my husband took me to Vegas to see Madonna, and I turned 47. I’d been looking forward to seeing Madonna for ages. By this time, I’d been sober for almost five months. I’d hit all the holidays sober from alcohol for the cancer health benefits, so going to Vegas for the first time sober felt like the last great challenge!
I was feeling nervous about the surgery and sad about my routine being completely broken. One thing about being sober is you throw yourself into a healthier lifestyle. You quickly see your body transform, and it’s addictive, for me at least. I felt like I was in mourning about my body disintegrating in front of me – those training hours went to waste. For up to eight weeks, no physical exercise. Man, that makes me upset!
On the day of surgery, I felt okay. I had a 4 a.m. wake-up call, showered with an antiseptic body wash, did not use lotions or potions, and wore loose clothing. I arrived at the hospital on autopilot. I knew what would happen, when, what was being removed, and where I’d wake up hours later. The way my brain deals with things is to go on autopilot and go with the flow. There was not too much thinking or a show of emotion.
Once I could think clearly I remember looking at the clock close to 3 p.m. I thought, hang on, I should have been out of surgery before midday; something must have gone wrong. The general nursing staff didn’t have answers. I’d have to wait until the surgeon visited me later on.
Around 4 pm my husband was able to visit me, and my very first words were, “What went wrong? Why was the surgery so long, please tell me the truth – I need to hear it warts and all?” I must have been sitting in the recovery room for more than an hour, so he thought I’d have more news than I had, but he calmed me down and reassured me that the surgery went well but took longer than expected because the prostate was “cooked” from my original HIFU treatment a year earlier. Okay, that made sense, and then the doctor said some biopsy samples were removed, but in good news, nerves on both sides were spared.
In the 3 months following surgery, there is nothing normal, so as things settle we’ll begin to see developments in continence and sexual health. I was so surprised by the incisions. I was told there were no stitches, but there were 6 abdominal incisions stuck together with surgical superglue, and the gland was removed from the incision just above the navel.
The abdomen felt expectedly sore immediately afterward. These moments make you realize how much you brace your core during every single body movement. I needed a bit of help moving in the hospital bed to get comfortable and a few hours later I was walking laps around the ward with some help. I had to wheel my IV drip tower and my catheter bag but it was ok. It was important to get up and move because a lot of air is pumped in you during surgery and it’s important to get it out. I also found out that you have to breathe heavily to expel the anesthetic from the lungs, which can cause pneumonia if not properly exercised. I worked hard at this because the last thing I wanted was to have coughing fits following abdominal surgery. The following day, after a solo walk around the floor, the doctor said I could go home. I’d have the catheter in for a week, which I was fine with – it’s not that bad other than the inconvenience of carrying it around with you.
Today, I had the catheter removed. The prospect of having a balloon dilated inside your bladder and removed through your urethra is enough to make anyone squeamish but I think it was the uncertainty of continence that I was most concerned about. The feeling of simply not knowing, and it being completely out of my control was freaking me out inside. For me, these little steps make up the whole thing. I will practice Kegel exercises – they’re important for continence and ED, and I follow the rules!
I’ll keep posting on my progress and throw in a few other articles I’m writing as part of my therapeutic journey.