Roger Zee Memoirs
2018 Yeah I Got Cancer 01 02/20/21
The ancient Siren "Fate" reaches out her slender but muscular arms, pulls me in close for the kill, then wraps me in her sensual fantasy. What hubris makes me think I could possibly escape the "Hand of Fate?" Like the ancient Greek, Daedalus, I fly too close to the sun, melt, and fall. Welcome to another excerpt from my memoirs, "Life and Times of a Pandemic Musician." B-|
Oh the peaks and valleys of my life! In 2016, I unexpectedly survive a five-day heart attack only to get picked up as the poster boy for White Plains Hospital! My Thursday night Jam with Rudy Feinauer at Victor's in Hawthorne, NY's rockets. We even do a weekend night once a month. I also gain a few gigs playing bass with the great NJ Reggae band No Discipline. Begin hanging a few nights a week with my new lady, Sally. Just as I think I've got everything in check, my January 2018 annual physical with Dr. Weiser turns up possible Prostate Cancer. My PSA level comes in at 4.2, up from 2.5 the previous year. Anything over 4.0 spells trouble. :-(
I love Dr. Weiser, my Hippie Orthodox Jewish doctor. So laid back as he lays out the facts and options. "You can wait for 3-6 months and then re-test to see if it goes down. Or I can refer you to a urologist." Just another gut punch in a long series of them. He advises me to go home and do some reading up on Prostate Cancer -- but take it all with a grain of salt! ;-)
I don't know about you, but I hate doing medical, or for that matter, any kind of research on the Internet. Ironic, because that's where I made my money, LOL! The trouble's that I never know what or who to believe. My latest research reveals that most doctors treat the disease too quickly and way too harshly. For the most part, and here's the catch, Prostate Cancer's a very slow killer. Most men who get it will die of something else. But the surgical and/or radiation treatment can leave you unnecessarily neutered. Oh they can cure you all right, but the collateral damage makes your life not worth living... :-O
So I ponder my options. And after three months, take another PSA blood test. This time it comes back at 3.9, 0.1 under the limit. Yay! But I decide to make an appointment anyway with urologist Dr. Blair. He schedules me for a urine flow test. On that morning, for maybe the first time in my life, I can't squirt out a drop! Dr. Blair seems like a nice enough guy. He's got all these awards hanging on his wall for Westchester Urologist of the Year. But I notice there's none for the last few years. Maybe a red flag? :-c
Anyway, he delivers a speech that puts the "Fear of God" in me. So I sign up for the biopsy. What the Heck, the "King of Denial" thang never really works too well for me anyway! When the day comes, the nurse gives me a dressing gown and asks me to lie down on my side on the treatment table. Dr. Blair enters and shoots me up with a local anesthetic. He whips out a device a little like an elongated hole puncher and says he's going to chop out 10-12 small pieces from my prostate. It shouldn't hurt much but I'll feel some pressure. D:<
So here we go. He slips something smooth and cold up my ass and starts positioning it. Then he pulls the trigger and I feel an intense, interior thud. A minute later, he punches another sample. Under my breath, I whisper, "I got this. Just keep counting them to 12." But then 13 comes. WTF! I lose track after 21. Finally it's over and the nurse comes over to clean me up. I watch as she throws away the blood soaked pads and then tapes on new ones. I call out to the doc, "I thought you're just gonna take 12 samples." "Well..." Should've known right then. :'(
After the procedure, I drive home and take a long nap. That night, I head over to Sally's house. When she calls me to the dinner table, I go to the bathroom to pee and wash up. Lately, my aim's gone south so I switch to sitting down so I don't ground splatter. Pretty embarrassing! I get up to flush and notice blood all over my underwear, pants, and now the floor. Oh shit! No sex for me tonight. :-(
After a week of agonizing worry, I show up at the clinic to hear my results. Before I even sit down in the waiting room, Dr. Blair grabs my arm and says, "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this." We enter his office and he shuts the door. "We've found very aggressive Prostate Cancer. The good news, we've caught it while we think it's still local. Let's go over your options..." Not expecting that! :{
It's snowed here in White Plains, NY almost every day for the past two weeks. The temperature's dropped almost as low as my depression. But thanks to a great friend, I manage to score a vaccination appointment at the Westchester County Center on Monday March 1. A supersitious person, I see three very positive signs about this. One, it's on my beautiful daughter's birthday at the very same place they held her high school graduation. Also, it's in walking distance from my apartment and I hate to drive! So I strap on "Baby Blue," my beloved Fender Mexican Jazz Bass, and ponder the "Hand of Fate" as I go over the bass lines to the Rolling Stones transitional album, "Black and Blue." One <3
YouTube - Hand of Fate - Rolling Stones
©2021 Roger Zee