Exit The Valley

©2017 by Lee Frederick Somerstein
(Author's note: This is my first post-surgery piece. Hopefully it's my last on this subject, if not forever, at least for a long, long time. I hope I'm not beating a dead cancer cell to death but I am compelled to write because of the magnitude of thoughts and feelings as my brain and body reboot. May 16 was three weeks post surgery. It's been a physical and emotional roller coaster. Hang on!)

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May 5th was much more than my 70th birthday; it was the beginning of the next chapter(s) of my life. It was the first day post-prostate cancer surgery (4/25) that I got out of bed - weak as a newborn. It was the day Dr. Surgeon's nurse pulled staples from the six small incisions spread across my abdomen. I will tell people they are bullet wounds - so much more exciting.
I’m slowly recovering physically and mentally. I’ve been pushing myself because that’s what I do and the slightest activity still drains me. I checked with the doc’s office and now even he is concerned that I’m not further along. I’ve been anemic and started taking a multi-vitamin but he wants to do a complete metabolic workup. I’m down more than 25-pounds since this began. Most of the loss is muscle and it ain’t pretty. My ass is down to my knees!
Mentally/emotionally I’m still processing the past two-and-a-half months. It started with the diagnosis in early March. The SWAT response probably saved my life, not to mention your Good Vibrations from every corner of the USA! Toss in a little Somerstein Sassitude, love, care and support from The Boss, lots of bad humor and there ya have it.
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Today I visualize myself walking a trail out of a long, expansive valley that’s filled at different times with sunshine, nights as dark as pitch, horrific storms and an ever-changing terrain. Today I stand facing a clear blue sky with white puffy cotton candy clouds and the open road ahead. I know life will always intervene but today it is Exit the Valley feeling stronger mentally and emotionally than at any other time in the past 70-years. I intend to evolve, learn and be productive with new resolve and purpose.
I think a lot when I’m on my ass like this. The fact is, though, I’ve never been on my ass like this. Over the decades I’ve been poked, cut, probed, scoped, tubed, sutured and stapled – damn near died a few times after day surgery but nothing compares to the last months. The changes and discoveries I continually encounter are often astonishing.
Here’s a short list of post-surgery discoveries/thoughts/observations:
·       I feel cleansed with a new and stronger self-awareness.
·       I’m holding more closely to me the people I love.
·       I don’t like the taste of coffee any more, seriously. As soon as I could, I made a Starbucks run and ordered my usual quad espresso with three Splenda under ice, my drink for more than 30-years. It was waaaay too strong and I haven’t desired one since. Now, I drink a strong, steaming mug of sweetened Earl Grey Tea twice a day. Delightful!
·       I haven’t had a cigar since April 23rd. Yes, I still crave ‘em, addict that I am, but the cravings are fewer and milder. Then, I read that smoking is a key factor in the return of prostate cancer. Scare tactic? It’s working.
·       I’m not in such a rush anymore.
·       I’m still evolving as a writer.

It’s not all tea, toast and strawberry jam:
·       I hope you never experience post-surgery abdominal spasms. NEVER!
·       My doc told me most men experience deep depression about two weeks after this surgery. I scoffed. Virtually two weeks to the day post-surgery my emotional choo choo ran off the tracks and over a cliff. I was fearful, vulnerable, almost paranoid and very, very weak. It was crushing. It took The Boss and me several days of tension, talks, patience and love to get through it. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.
·     Time (with no apologies to Einstein) agonizingly slows down when you are weak, helpless and bedridden.
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I return to my doc in July for a PSA test. They think they got it all and if that’s so, the PSA should be barely detectable, < 2. It was 20 when the cancer hit the fan. If it starts rising, that’s not good. It will take several years of less-than-two before I am “officially” cancer-free.
I’m not going to fret. I’m too busy making the most of today.

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