Denise and I went and saw the main radiation oncologist at Mass General last week for a second opinion on "The Bulge" in my prostate and his idea of what I should do about it. Dr. Anthony Zeitman is a lean brit with a three day growth of beard and a pretty young resident hanging on his every word, but seems to very much know what's he's doing around Madam Curie-ville. And he's seen lots and lots of cases like mine.
His evaluation of the situation was much the same as that of my urologist Kevin Loughlan: yes, I have to do something - though he's more lax on the timetable as to when this has to happen. He doesn't seem to think that I'm in any immediate danger, which is good to hear. However, when he made this evaluation and handed the discussion back to me for a decision, I decided that it was time to do what I've been avoiding for the past three and a half years - treatment and all the ugliness that goes with it. Hopefully, the implantation of radioactive seeds won't be too much of a horror show.
I have to admit that I underestimated the mental strain of having cancer - even the super slow version that I have. Though you can forget about it for a while, it's always seems comes back to be in your face day after day. You can run, but you can't hide. I'm somewhat relieved to be doing something about the situation that is at least more definitive than taking supplements or adjusting my diet. I don't feel good about giving in to the disease, but then I always knew that I would probably come to this in the end.
And besides, I asked Zeitman if there were any miracle cures on the horizon, he quickly said, "no." I am now, however, negotiating for superpowers as a result of being temporarily radioactive.
Don't have a date as to when this transformation will happen. I'll let you know when I do - it's probably going to be sometime in January. And, yes, I want one of those cool Spiderman webshooters for Christmas.