More anxiety-ridden days and weeks pass, waiting for the pathology report.
Meanwhile… ruminating about the best and worst that can happen.
Meanwhile… the fatigue, malaise, reflux, swollen nodes, swollen leg, taste distortion, lost appetite, and lost libido unresolved.
Meanwhile… uncomfortable and embarrassing hot flashes.
Meanwhile… soaking night sweats that ruin your sleep.
Meanwhile… the nasty side effects from “just a pill” used to treat my CLL.
Meanwhile… your skin still making Sebaceous lesions that need excised.
Meanwhile… the threat of so many Lynch cancers hanging over you.
Meanwhile… cancer nightmares that interrupt even the temporary escape of sleep.
Meanwhile… adding the loss of my right arm (my good arm) to my list of things to worry about.
Fast forward to another visit with my oncologist.
As if my cancer story wasn’t already interesting enough, the diagnosis was unequivocal: Metastatic prostate cancer. Gleason Score = 10.
The worst a man can get.