I wrote yesterday that I would write about the special people who helped me through this ordeal. I don't know if I should give the names of the people here but if some one requests a recommendation, I would be happy to provide them. I mentioned that my urologist told me it was just a blip on the radar screen. He was right and and he is a very compassionate man. Likewise the doctor who monitored my progress at the Tomo center. The two radilogists there were teriffic. We had an ongoing "war" because I am from the Red Sox Nation and proudly wore "Yankees go Home" and "Green Monstah" t-shirts. I mentioned my mental state the first couple of weeks after the diagnosis and there was a battery of tests and I was counselled by an Advanced Practice Nurse who helped Donna and I greatly. These people must get special training. They are upbeat, and seem always to know just the right words.
Speaking of some of the people. Donna and our son David who is an engineer on a barge laying oil piplines in the Gulf of Mexico always knew when "I was down a hug."
Today seems like it is going to be another great day.
By the way whoever thought to provide this venue a special thank you
Brownie

I'm jumping around and have no idea of what is typical, but on June 16th I had 89 seeds implanted in my prostate. Yesterday was the best day I have had since June 15th.

When I received the diagnosis, it took a few moments to sink in. My doctor knew and said to me that when I was ready to listen he would talk to me about options. I had gone to the doctor's by myself. I began to get clues that something was remiss when the doctor came to bring me to his office, and secondly when he asked if I had come alone.
The doctor assured me that my cancer was in the very early stages and the prognosis was excellent. I elected radiation and seed inplants.
Walking out the doctor assured me that it was just a small blip on the radar screen. I remember saying, "Yeah but its my blip."
My wife had insisted I call her when I got home. She was at work. I did so, and lied to her for the first time in my life. I wasn't telling her on the phone. When she got home, we sat on the sunporch and I told her filling up several times.
The next person I told was my mother, and I gave the phone to my wife, Donna, because I just couldn't talk. It took me a couple of weeks perhaps till I began radiation therapy to have good days when the word, CANCER, stopped ruling my life.
The seeds have been in for eight weeks. The truth is that the worst part of the whole experience was the twenty-four hours after the surgery. There was no pain but Foley catheters aren't fun.
I'm writing this in public because I hope that someone may read it, and realize it isn't the end of the world.
I'll continue another day with some of my experiences with the compassionate people I met at every stage of the eight months.
Brownie