Blessed

When you get cold the bones it’s hard to stay warm. As you can imagine, cold to the bones is worst than being just plain cold. When your skin is cold you just add another layer of clothes and you are good to go. But when your bones are cold it seems like the only solution short of sitting in front of a roaring fireplace is a hot shower.

Yesterday’s temperature topped out at 26 degrees, a far cry from our coldest days of 35 below zero three weeks ago. But at University Hospital it seemed a lot colder when I got out of the car to hand my keys to the parking attendant who now knows me by name. He asked how I was doing. I said “oh, so-so.” “At least you’re being honest,” he said. I didn’t say “so-so” because I was feeling sick, but more because coming to the hospital is a reminder that this is a place for sick people. “Will you need a wheelchair today, Mr. Thomas?” he said. “No, I’m only here for a couple of test,” I said. I thought to myself, “Why did he ask me that?” “Do I look like I need a wheelchair?” Another reminder to myself: “This is not the Sheraton, it’s University Hospital.

I was at the hospital to have a bone and tissue scan. It will be three years in July when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and almost a year since I last had the scans done. The vaccination research study I participated in ended last September. During that time, I had one stable PSA reading. Other than that, it has been continually rising. The object of the scans is to determine where outside the prostate the cancer has gone. Since my PSA is rising, the medical conclusion is that it will show up someplace. That it will either show up in my lymph nodes or bones. When that happens, we will have to decide a treatment plan. The most common plan is chemotheraphy.

One of my clinical doctors called this morning with the results of my scans. He said both were negative; that he believes that it is still too small for the scans to detect. Going into yesterday I had convinced myself that the cancer was going to be detected and it was time to put on the gloves again. But fterwards I was thinking that maybe there is a reason for the negative scans. Waiting from scan to scan makes me anxious, and at the same time, I am blessed because the longer the cancer goes undetected the more time there will be for new treatment options to become available. Chemo is no Sunday walk in the park.

I have always been blessed to come from a family of prayers, a family who believe in prayers. When I allow myself I can feel how strong the prayers have been and are. I want to let you know that the prayers do not go unappreciated.

With many thanks and love, I remain,

Lee “Harry” Thomas