My husband was first diagnosed with Prostate Cancer is 2011 and initially had 37 sessions of radiotherapy, his PSA never quite got to zero (0.67) so over the next few years we watched as it slowly started to rise. In 2016 it hit 2.34 in May then in September it hit 5.09. I know these are small figures compared to many but we knew from scans in the early days that my husband's PSA was a good indicator of the disease on the move. It had been seen in his lymph nodes.
So in September 2016 the terminal diagnosis was given and then followed Prostap PSA almost immediately went to 0.065 and then slowly crept back up over the following year to 2.09. In July 2017 Enzalutamide for 21 days brought the PSA down to 0.14 but atrial fibrillation meant the end of that. The no treatment other than Prostap until November 2017 which saw the Abiraterone journey which lasted until February this year. On Abiraterone my husband's PSA ended up at 34.8 in March 2019 then 90 in April 2019, again not high for some people. So on May 3rd we received the results of the latest CT scan, the cancer had spread from the prostate and surrounding lymph nodes to the liver and appeared quite advanced in the liver.
That was a shock, but then to be told that chemotherapy, which had been the next treatment we expected, wouldn't actually do anything so we should only have palliative care and the prognosis was a couple of weeks, possibly more was the real shock. My husband and I got a lot done in those two weeks, all sorts of things sorted out, discussions had, close family and friends informed and even the funeral service thought about. As my husband said he felt like a bit of a fraud as he didn't feel unwell. We had been told that as the cancer was not in his bones he shouldn't really have any pain and would just get progressively more tired, eat and drink less and become more mobile.
In the first three weeks we were having two to three visitors a day, week four and five two a day, week six one a day and then none from week seven. Sure enough after week three my husband was getting a bit more tired, coming downstairs around 8-9am and going to bed around 10-11pm, this slowly changed and over the course of week five was going to bed about 7-8pm, in week six he suddenly started to go to bed at 5pm, then 4pm, then 3pm then 1pm. He was getting weaker during this time and having trouble hauling himself upstairs.
Last week on 11th June he came downstairs and managed less than two hours before going back upstairs to bed - he hasn't come downstairs since. He is happy and comfortable being in bed, has his PC there, reads, watches TV and dozes on and off. He asked me yesterday if I really thought he was going to die as he didn't expect to still be here, I suppose it beats the question he asked me last week - "Have you booked my funeral?"!! At least we can still laugh.
So now I have a weak, tired man who doesn't eat more than a few mouthfuls of food a day enjoying his last weeks relaxed, happy and with everything organised, down to the music for the funeral service, the location and the guest list as well as what he calls the after party. I am not sure how much longer he will last but according to the hospice nurses he doesn't look like he is going anywhere immediately. Tomorrow it will be eight weeks since we were told he had two weeks and I think I could well be here in another four weeks with an update.
Edited by member 27 Jun 2019 at 19:08
| Reason: Not specified