I've been reading the posts on this forum for quite some time but haven't posted before. I feel the need to post now, I'm sorry if it turns out to be long and rambling, I'll try to be as concise as I can.
My wonderful Dad, who is only 63, was diagnosed with prostate cancer last August. Unbeknown to us, he had been suffering symptoms for more than a year and had been visiting the GP about it. I'm not sure why it went on so long, but by the time he was finally referred by the GP he had become incontinent of urine. As soon as he was seen by a consultant he was admitted to hospital as an emergency to be catheterised. He has had the catheter ever since. At the time I was furious - with my Dad for not telling us what he had been going through, and mostly with the GP for letting him get to that point. But now, knowing my Dad, and how he minimises things, tells people he's ok when he's clearly not, I'm not sure if the GP really knew what was going on. And it's all academic now.
So he was then diagnosed, gleason 9, and we hoped it wouldn't have spread. But scans then showed spread to the pelvis and he started hormone treatment (degarelix). We hoped this would give him a good few years. At his first review, there was positive news, his PSA level had come right down, everything seemed good. Then a couple of months after he was diagnosed he began to experience excruciating back pain. It went on for weeks and no one seemed to want to do anything other than throw painkillers at him. He was in agony, couldn't stand up straight, could only walk a few paces. At this time he hadn't been referred to Macmillan, we just had a contact number for the hospital cancer nurse, but it always went to answerphone, and his GP just sent him for an xray which showed nothing. Eventually after searching the internet in desperation I found information on metastatic spinal cord compression. I was out of my mind with worry as the symptoms sounded the same. I felt terrible worrying my Dad but I printed the info and showed it to him. He agreed it sounded like what he was experiencing. He wouldn't let me take him to A&E or call an ambulance, as he didn't want to make a fuss. So I called the out of hours GP (it was late) and told them I was concerned it was MSSC. He did a little laugh and said in a condescending tone "with respect, I'll be the judge of that". He came out, tested my Dad's reflexes and said it wasn't MSSC. Dad saw the GP again over the next week who agreed it wasn't MSSC. I felt dreadful for having worried my Dad for nothing. But the pain went on. In total my Dad was in this pain for six weeks, until finally the consultant agreed to send him for an MRI. It turned out my worries were right, he did have MSSC. He was immediately given emergency radiotherapy which finished on Christmas Eve. They said he was luck that he hadn't been left paralysed. I felt I had let him down by not trusting my instincts, I should have insisted on calling on ambulance, I should have done something more. But it's hard when medical professionals are telling you you are wrong.
The radiotherapy gave him instant relief which was wonderful. The stress of it all had taken it's toll on me by this time, and I had to have some time off work. It took a while but eventually Dad was able to enjoy life again, he could walk, drive, get out and about and was managing really well with just co-codamol and a patch for his back pain. The consultant wanted him to just continue on the same treatment with PSA monitoring but I challenged this. I didn't see how they could rely on the PSA when the cancer had spread to his spine whilst his PSA had been coming down. I also wasn't happy with him just having the same treatment for the same reason. The consultant checked his notes again and said "oh yes you're right to be concerned" - this is how it has been all along, I have to question and challenge things to try to get my Dad what he needs. My Dad is too polite and assumes doctors know what they are doing. So they added another drug for total androgen blockade and said they would monitor by doing further scans if he developed any new symptoms.
He was reviewed in April and the consultant was happy that his PSA had come down further so the treatment was working. But Dad wasn't feeling too great so again I questioned how could they be sure the PSA was a reliable indicator. After some pushing from me the consultant agreed to send him for scans. We went to get the results and they said the good news was that the cancer in the bones seemed stable, but the bad news, there was a nodule on his lung. They couldn't tell if it was from the prostate cancer or a primary lung cancer. He would have to have a biopsy. This was the first time I have seen my Dad cry through all of this.
The biopsy appointment was made but then Dad started to get excruciating back pain again. After the previous experience I kept insisting it could be MSSC, but again the doctors were dismissive, putting it down to bone pain and the Macmillan nurse was just prescribing more and more painkillers. In the middle of this, Dad had to have the lung biopsy, needing morphine to get him through it. A couple of days later he was in so much pain I called an ambulance and he was admitted to hospital. An MRI scan confirmed it was MSSC again. He could only have one dose of radiotherapy this time as it was very close to the previous tumour. So he had the radiotherapy but it didn't give him relief like last time, they said it can take time, so they kept him in to try to get his pain under control. The consultant visited him on the ward to give him the biopsy results - he has primary lung cancer, and now they weren't sure whether the spinal tumours were from the prostate cancer or the lung cancer. They would see him again in outpatients when he was feeling better to discuss treatment options.
That was five weeks ago and Dad is still in hospital. They kept telling us they were waiting for the radiotherapy to work and trying to get his pain under control so he could go home and we could look at treatment options. Two weeks ago he was transferred to a more local community hospital still with a view to getting "better" and going home. Dad has been trying to do as much as he can for himself, even when it's causing him pain, determined to improve and get home, and get the treatment he needs. I couldn't understand why he had to wait to see the oncologist in outpatients, but finally yesterday, we went by transport ambulance to his outpatients appointment which was at another hospital. It was physically difficult for Dad as he is still in a lot of pain from the nerve damage caused by the MSSC. I think I half knew that Dad wasn't well enough to have chemotherapy, but it is amazing how every fibre of your being continues to clutch on to hope, even against all logic. But yesterday, the oncologist told us there are no more treatment options for him. They are continuing with his hormone treatment for the prostate cancer, but there is nothing they can do for the lung cancer. They still don't know if it's the prostate or lung cancer in his bones, but they said there's no point doing a bone biopsy because they can't treat the lung cancer anyway. Dad said but what if I can get myself better - I think he is still hoping.
I didn't really question what was said yesterday, there didn't seem anything left to say. But today I have woken up questioning myself, questioning everything. Why didn't they spot the lung cancer when he was first diagnosed with prostate cancer? At that time, before the MSSC, he would have been fit enough for chemo. Why aren't they bothering to find out now if it's the lung cancer or prostate cancer in his bones and spine? If it turned out to be the prostate cancer, maybe he could have abiraterone or enzalutamide to try to slow it? Or am I just clutching for hope?
It's just that all along, despite everything that has happened, everything we have been through, I have found it impossible to believe that it won't somehow be ok.