My Prostate Cancer, Part 22

For lack of a better phrase, I became somewhat of a walking miracle…

(not a miracle, of course, but quite explicable—a topic for another day)

Here’s what I look like today, compared to the featured image above taken about a year ago…

Frank in his music studio March 18, 2023

I’d like to think that, if you saw me in the street, you’d never guess I had so many advanced cancer journeys happening all at once with lesions scattered in my lymph nodes, bone marrow, prostate, bladder, liver, oil glands, and who knows were.

If I had to honestly characterize my subjective and objective emotional and physical state of health, I would say that at this very moment (noon March 19, 2023), I am not dying from cancer. I am living with cancer.

Special Note: Profound gratitude to all who’ve had the courage to walk with me so far, even if just for a little while.

continue… Endurance, Part 1

8 thoughts on “My Prostate Cancer, Part 22

  1. I started to reread this Frank, and realise you’ve added so much since I last visited. The horrors you’ve been through can’t even be imagined. It’s incredibly striking to me how you’ve kept such a detailed account under these circumstances. I’m not finished yet, but wanted to say thanks for sharing.

    1. Wow, Kath. I am deeply moved by your most sensitive and sympathetic words. Thank YOU for your uncommon generosity of spirit and the courage to walk with me these many miles… a powerful medicine against the loneliness of it all.

  2. Whew! I came here and found your newest chapters, just after reading about prognoses (not encouraging) for the kind of cancer my friend has. Your good news helped set things back in balance for the moment. Thank you very much for spending the energy it must take to tell this story.
    And hey, the curly hair is back, and it looks like you are in the music room! Excellent. All best wishes to you. Rock on!

    1. Quite the roller coaster, indeed, Teresa. Learning to see things from the proper perspective is a never-ending process. Thanks so much for appreciating how much energy it takes to do this and special thanks for cheering me on. Your uncommon sensitivity, compassion, and courage to be here mean more than I can put into words.

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