“You want to put Radioactive rods where…?
In the final sentence of my previous blog I spoke of wanting a few undramatic, non-blogworthy months. Is that going to happen? No… 2024 is turning out to be a real cracker.
The cosmic duality of yin and yang is working its magic and although the majority of what has been going on in my World over the past few months is hugely positive, the Universe does have a dark sense of humour.
For those uninterested in my ramblings I’ll give a quick synopsis of my health before going into more detail.
Good: I am cancer free! Yay. 😀
Not so good: They want to insert radioactive rods into the tip of my penis…😳
When I last wrote, I was still in the nappy wearing stage following my Urethrectomy. A centimetre long open wound at the base of my scrotum to aid drainage and reduce swelling was an unexpected take home. Following a blood soaked visit to A&E (discussed in the previous blog) I managed to arrange some wound management at my local G.P’s surgery. Why this wasn’t arranged when I left Hospital I’ll never know but experience tells me that communication between different departments of the NHS is not good and I’m becoming used to having to chase up things that a few years ago I would have expected to happen automatically.
From a daily nappy change I progressed on to a twice weekly bikini wax as large dressings with antibacterial silver gauze strips were used to dress the wound. The three stitches in the end of my penis were also checked to ensure everything was healing as it should.
On the same day that I returned to work I had a meeting with the Consultant Urologist that had performed the operation. He was happy with how the operation went and was confident that he had removed all of the cancerous tissue. He did say, however, that the cancer had spread quite dramatically and had come close to the end of the penis and he believed that a course of radiotherapy would be a good idea to make absolutely sure there were no rogue cancer cells left. He explained that this would likely be done in Brighton and would be straightforward outpatients appointments that I could drive myself to and from. Sounds good. I was all for it. Bring it on…let’s kill off this sucker for good. That was until a phone call at lunchtime the following day.
The phone call was from a Consultant Radiologist at the Royal Sussex County Hospital in Brighton. He was delighted that I was so keen to go down the radiotherapy route and went on to explain the most effective method of zapping any possible leftover cancer cells was a radiation treatment known as Brachytherapy. This involves inserting radioactive rods inside the body at the site where the cancer is located, in my case the tip of the penis. I mentioned that it sounded a bit sore to which he replied that of course I’ll be numbed up, but before the matter is to be taken further I am to be scanned. PET, MRI plus CT. That should keep me busy for a few weeks.
Once I had imparted this knowledge to friends, family and colleagues and all the right sympathetic noises had been made, the floodgates opened. Much merriment was had discussing my new potential superpowers. Opinion was split between whether I would be like Cyclops from the X-Men, emitting powerful beams of energy which I could only control with the aid of special underpants or whether I’d have my very own Sonic Screwdriver which, with only a quick wave, could control all manner of electronic devices and complicated mechanisms. Each scenario would demand special superhero underwear to be designed, probably not unlike reverse flap long johns.
Meanwhile, deep within my current underwear lies a bruised and battered organ, still recovering from recent, highly invasive surgery that is waving a white flag, wanting only to be left alone.
Fortunately, Scan season went smoothly with no cancellations. The PET Scan came first. From the punters perspective, similar to a CT Scan but a radioactive injection is given via a huge, lead lined syringe. The following week it was time for an MRI Scan. A little more intense and far noisier and not helped by the nurse who was having a bad day with cannula fitting and left my arm a bit sore and bruised (it’s never hurt like that before…) Finally, the CT Scan came and went with no issues.
So, now the wait… I finally receive an appointment for a face to face meeting with the Consultant Radiologist in Brighton in a couple of weeks. Yet another ‘squeaky bum time’ appointment that has the potential to really make or break a day. The day before my appointment my phone pings whilst I am at work. “Your appointment with Dr Anderson has been cancelled…” Aaarrrggghhh!!! Before I get the chance to wind myself up into a frenzy the phone rings. It’s the Doctor’s secretary. They want to bring my appointment forward from 3.30pm to 11.00am. Not possible as I can’t just walk away from cooking lunch for hundreds of people with such short notice. Can I do a phone consultation? Yes! The call comes through on the dot of 11.00am the following day. The first bit of news makes my day! All the scans are clear and there is no evidence of disease. The Doctor still believes that a course of Radiotherapy (probably Brachytherapy…) would be wise just to be sure, so I am now awaiting a call to drive over to the Royal Surrey County Hospital in Guildford for a meeting with the Radiologists there.
Life is never dull.
Following on from my Urethrectomy, all my external stitches have now dissolved. There are probably some larger internal stitches still doing their thing so I’m still careful not to overdo it. I’ve been back at work for 7 weeks and am now doing a more civilised 37.5 hours a week as opposed to the slightly crazy 50 hours I was doing previously. There is still discomfort at the end of the day but it is gradually reducing as the weeks go by.
Will there be more knob related content coming before Christmas?
Probably…
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