Graduation Day: March 28, 2017

I'm a certified graduate of radiation therapy!

Tracy,
Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last!

Well, OK. Now that I've got that out of my system I can calm down and bask in the realization that my radiation treatments are over and my night sweats may soon be a distant memory.

But today is still special because I've been under the photonizer for the 39th time without any deleterious effects. No soreness from what might be called "collateral damage" from the radiation that was directed at my prostate. No diarrhea and no apparent scarring of the urethra. It's been an easy ride.

Along the way, I've met some nice people, such as the fellow pictured next to me in the photo below. His name is Robert, too, and he has had lung cancer since 2013. I had met him a few days ago, and he had such a positive attitude I wanted to include him in this blog. He wasn't supposed to be here, but he has survived, possibly because of stubborn cheerfulness and a good heart. Robert said he would pray for me, but I've had one of the easiest rides a cancer patient could ask for. If prayer works, I suggest everyone pray for him, because the world needs more people with his attitude.

Robert and me on my last day of radiation.

It wouldn't be a special day without a statement of thanks to my health care team, most of whom were too tied up to join me for a group shot today. But they are not forgotten. Bartell's had a twoferone on Whitman's Chocolates 10 oz. box. I had wanted to get the biggest 40 oz. box, but I couldn't track it down. Then I found out I could get the smaller ones on special. Wow! Winners all around.

I bought four for the price of two and gave one for the staff and the clients at the front desk; one for my team of technicians; one for my radiologist and his staff; and one for my urologist who tracked me for years, keeping an eye on my PSA score and performing the operation that uncovered the cancer. They have all been a great, nurturing team. Here's a photo of the ones who were present for the final photonizing:

Juergen, Shelly, me and Kari (the one holding the Whitman's chocolates)

The photo's focus is pretty soft, because I set up my droid phone to take a movie. A still would have been sharper, but who cares? We all feel great.

This final picture is of me, setting up the camera.

Immortalizing that special milestone. . .

We'll see how long it takes before I don't have to wear that balaclava headband. I met with the radialogist after my final photonizing and was told that I can stop taking the bicalutimide, which put me through the hot flashes and night sweats of manopause. And I can start easing off that celibrity medication, Flomax, which shows up in TV ads about old gaffers who have to pee all the time. By the time you're my age they'll probably have something better, but for now it works pretty good.

In a month I have a blood test to see what my PSA level is, and a week later I meet with the radiologist again. Then every six months I have a blood test to see what the PSA is doing.

But tomorrow, I can sleep in. Or I can get up and go someplace beside the hospital. Those weekday visits with the photonizer are oh-ver.

Love,
Dad