This is what Zoe wrote:
"When you were first diagnosed I came across a few blogs for men post prostate surgery – they were really heart rending in some cases. Men feeling like there was no point to their existence, even committing suicide. I feel (without much proof,possibly) that instead of being incredibly empathetic and understanding and doing everything they can for the psychological and physical well being of their patients the predominantly male doctors just focus on removing the cancer and wander off thinking the patient should be grateful for being given back his life without cancer".
So here's what happened.
First there was the rush to diagnosis. My lovely GP is Pam Goodwin, a den-mother kind of doc who doesn't muck about. She strongly recommended Manish Patel, he got down to business by establishing I understand the mechanics of the condition. We scheduled a biopsy, to be done under a general anesthetic. It came and went, I went back for the results a few days later.
'Sorry, you have cancer', he said. We discussed the options - there was only one in my case, removal and as soon as possible. He referred me to Sean Mungovan, a physiotherapist who was to manage my post operative incontinence. There was a blizzard of things to do, and as I left his room I found myself in a very strange state. I was confused, overwhelmed. His secretary looked up, and asked me what I needed to do. I actually couldn't talk properly.
She understood, and helped me with the bone scan appointment, the hospital appointment, the physio appointment, and a mountain of forms and reading material, including a DVD on robotic surgery.
When I walked out, I slumped onto a bench seat and looked at the western afternoon sky.
I texted the girl I was going out with, and she called straight back. God bless her. She encouraged me, asking what I knew, and hearing my fears.
They were that I would die, that I would be incontinent, and that I would no longer either get a boner (erection) or ejaculate. Unspoken was that she would pack up and bail out.
Talking to her helped. I withheld everything from my adult daughter, as I needed to get the bone scan out of the way. I emailed my closest colleagues and friends, and got love in reply. My girl friend came over and helped me get drunk.
My visit to Sean Mungovan, the physiotherapis, was fairly brutal as his method is to freak you out with a big bag of sanitary pads and a stern warning to do everything he says. If I didn't do all the pelvic floor exercises and walk 10,000 paces a day, the inference is my post operative world would be awash with urine. He did an ultrasound and showed me how my pelvic floor contraction was not yet sufficient.
I believed him, and I did everything he said. Don't get me wrong, he was nice about it, and had his methods.
Several days later I had my bone scan, and decided that if the cancer had escaped from my prostate then I would just die in style. I didn't want to go like my friends Ian and Ross who had radiation and chemo and died horribly anyway. I would die in a manner that ensured my life insurance would pay out, so my daughter and her family would live in comfort on my legacy.
Once the bone scan came back negative, I knew removal would or should end the nightmare.
I went into Christmas almost OK, but when my daughter and her husband and my grand kids left later on Christmas day after I cooked lunch, I felt terribly alone. That was a slump.
I'm tremendously emotionally resilient, according to Mel my psychologist.
So to answer Zoe, no I wasn't emotionally supported or counseled by the prostate removal gang. Yes I was very carefully looked after, but no one asked how I was feeling.
How do I feel since? First of all, yoyfully once the operation was done, a few days later the catheter was removed. Dr. Patel's nurse Marnie said the immortal words: 'everyone is incontinent from this moment on'. But she was wrong. (See my story) I'm the odd one out, without a shred of incontience.
I've had moments. I can get half a boner, which is encouraging. I have had an amazing 'dry orgasm' just the other day which was both intense and a big happy surprise.
I do miss ejaculation. It was to me an intensely primitive male moment, putting my 'seed' or mark into a woman. It elevated me, made me feel like a real man.
I worried about my girl and whether she'd persist with me in my less enabled state. I paid a lot of attention to her needs and her satisfaction, but it wasn't the same without the breathless excitement and the full function of a glorious erection.
She - adorable supportive girl - did indeed depart a few weeks after the op, and I completely understood. My thinking is that we had a variety of things going on BUT the sexual issue was just that - prior to my operation, I was at a certain level of performance, and post I was different. I wouldn't for a minute think she seized on that at all - she is far too nice a soul. Hence I feel that when (and I will) I enter a new relationship, it is on the basis that everything forward from now is an evolution and an improvement on what is. So good vibes all around, OK?
Likely the boner will return, although the word is that it can take a year or more.
Now it is six weeks post-op, I do not have cancer nor will I get this form of cancer ever. So I am relieved. My general state of joy and happiness is as good as usual. Next week I resume Pilates, and will step up towards my pre-op level of fitness. Plus I'll do some extra swimming and fix my pushbike.
My only fear is that I'll remain alone, in which case I need to get a dog.
FOOTNOTE: I recovered. See my BLOG here.
