Allen Mesch

Dear Friends,

Please get your prostate checked this month.

I am a prostate cancer survivor. My wonderful urologist discovered a problem in a routine examination. He took samples of the infected sites and discovered I had advanced cancer.

Then my search for a treatment began. The choices were surgery, chemotherapy, or radiation. I talked with several different doctors. My urologist recommended a doctor in Arlington. His office is a 45-minute drive from my home.

Well, after some consideration, we decided on radiation. I say “we” because my wife would be directly involved in the treatment. She would drive me to and from treatments and care for me if I was ill.

The next phase was reducing my testosterone level. This was done to shrink the prostate. It was not hormone therapy, but my hairy chest hairs were a thing of the past. Then came the wait until my prostate had decreased to an “acceptable size.”

Then my urologist placed gold markers in the cancerous cells to act as targets for the radiation. I must say that this hurt like hell.

With the gold markers in place, I became a richer man and was able to begin 8 weeks of 5 days a week radiation.

I had to have a full bladder before each radiation treatment which meant drinking a quart (I seemed like a gallon) of water on the drive to Arlington. Once I arrived at the doctor’s office, I joined several other patients waiting treatment. We donned sweat pants. Patience is not what I would call the mood of those under extreme pressure.

Then it was my turn. I walked into the radiation room and lay down on the table. The nurses covered my privates with a towel. I lowered my sweat pants and under the towel. The radiation took less than five minutes. I pilled up my pants and the nurses removed the towel.

Then began a dash to the bathroom. Heaven help those who stood in my way. My fellow patients knew better to interfere. I made it to the toilet, emptied my bladder, and thanked God that I made it without embarrassing myself.

Every Wednesday, the doctor would visit with me and allow me to ask any questions.

The trip home would often require a bathroom stop.

That was my regimen five days a week for eight weeks.

On my last day, the doctor pronounced me cured.

I get my PSA checked every six months and, so far, it is less than 0.01 (negligible).

That’s my story. It’s been twelve years since my treatment.

Prostate cancer has been linked to other cancers in women, like breast cancer. So if you are not willing to do this for yourself, do it for your sons and daughters. Please get checked out!

For those of you expecting an image, give me a break.