I Cut My Finger and Just About Died

A couple of weeks ago, in a moment of lapsed judgment, I cut my index finger badly.  With my own knife.  While trying to remove a staple from a piece of paper.

A couple of days after that, I went to the doctor, since the finger hadn't stopped bleeding.  Or hurting.

While there, he suggested that I go ahead and do my PSA test, which I've been doing every three months since having prostate cancer last year.

A week later, he called with the results.  They were not good.

Now, this is the guy who saved my life by finding the cancer in the first place.  But it looks like every time I go to him for something else, he finds cancer.  I'm thinking about changing doctors.

Anyway...according to him, I shouldn't have any PSA readings at all since I no longer have the organ which produces the readings in the first place.  But I do, even though I don't.

Both indicators indicate that the cancer is back. 

And to think I thought the catheter would be the worst part of all this.  What an idiot.

So I called the Specialist in Alabama, who set me up with an appointment on October 21 for another PSA test and consultation.  He said, "If you're not overly concerned, I'd like to wait four weeks, do another test, then decide what we need to do next."

Concerned?  Me?

I'm looking forward to the October Surprise like a trip to the...oh wait, there's no comparison.

He suspects the first surgery either missed something or left something behind.  YOU THINK?

I already didn't feel the best;  now I feel worse.  I'm not a pessimist, though.

You know the definition of a pessimist?  Someone who feels bad when they feel good for fear they'll feel worse when they feel better.

Not me.  I'm an optimistic realist.

If I have cancer--again--I'm sure there's something they can do for it.  I'm sure it involves some sort of "procedure" (another word for YEEEOOOWWWW), "recovery" (an extension of the "procedure"), and, yes, a catheter.

I don't care at this point.  I just want to know what's going on, why it's going on, and what the doctor's going to do about it.

(Ever notice how medical professionals use the plural "we" when talking about what only "they" are going to do?  I've often wondered what my contribution to the "we" is, since I'm out cold during the entire process.)

So, that's it.  It may be back, it may not be.  Looks like it is.

I can't wait.