Let me give a brief (maybe not so brief) intro.
In July 16 my father was admitted to hospital, one of many admissions in the last 3 years, with the long term side effects of radio therapy back in 2000 for prostate cancer. What we didn't know at the time was that this time he would not be going home. The radio therapy had already led to collapse of 3 of his vertebrae, but this time we found that his bowls and bladder were also so badly damaged that they were literally falling to bits. Dad was a strong guy and he battled on, never complaining. He spent the following three months in a wonderful hospice, making the carers laugh and trying to enjoy his final weeks as best he could.
What Dad dint know was that his condition made me think I should get myself checked. At the age of 48 and in very good health I was shocked and terrified to find, on 22 November 2016, I too had prostate cancer. Having seen how dad was suffering I couldn't let him know. My mum too had been through so much I chose to keep it from her too.
My mind was made up very quickly. Seeing how Dad was suffering 16 years after his diagnosis (he was 64 when diagnosed), I just couldn't face any kind of radiotherapy...I was 48! I chose surgery. Date was set for the first week of Feb.
On December 20th my wife had a call from her brother in Japan (she is Japanese). Her father had died suddenly that morning. One day later we were in Japan planning his funeral. We celebrated his life and said our farewells to him on Christmas day. Wonderful guy, survived the bombing of Tokyo and stomach cancer. Pneumonia was his match though.
On 28th December I was back in the UK. My dad passed away on January 2nd, the day after my 49th Birthday. My sister, Mum and I had been with him day and night in those last few days. His funeral was in mid January. He died far too young. His mind was still in its 40's though his body was falling apart. His cancer was diagnosed rather late but his 16 years after his diagnosis were filled with achievement, and happiness.
For the last few years I have been a keen 10k runner and on 5th Feb I did my last 10k race in London, raising money for Cancer Research. Running along with other cancer victims, survivors and people who had in some way had their lives touched by cancer was very energising. Although Id been though a pretty miserable few months and had my own fight to come, I felt incredibly positive and lifted by that run.
Two days later I had my operation. All went well. I was back home two days later and catheter came out a week later (thank heavens!).
In late March I ran my first 'post cancer' 10K race and in a couple of weeks I have my first half marathon since 2011. 6 month PSA check is all clear. Physically Im good (except from ED issues which I guess is the price you pay), but mentally I just dont know where I am. The last year had been so mad and I never had a moment to think about my own condition until after my op. I still barely let myself think about it. It always gets put on the shelf for later. I honestly feel fine now, but I know I have never really taken in everything thats happened. I wonder if it will come back and bite me later.
I finally told my mum what had been happening in June, just after my first PSA test. She was shocked but understood why I had kept it from her (I told her I was in China on business for three weeks while recovering from my op).
So, thats my story. Im fine and life is as good as I could possibly hope for (thanks to a very understanding wife and LOTS of luck). I guess Im a really lucky guy, Dads misfortune woke me up at just the right time.
Good luck to all of you.