Two months ago I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. I had volunteered for a study for men over 50 with BPH (benign prostatic hyperplasia), where peeing becomes increasingly difficult. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night having to go really bad, and just couldn't. Not much fun. So, to qualify for the study I had to meet certain parameters, one of which was my PSA had to be between 0 and 4. Mine came out 4.1, which disqualified me for the study - unless I had a biopsy that was negative for cancer. I thought what the hell, I'm 68, and it might be prudent to have a look-see. But guess what, I did test positive for prostate cancer, which was, as you might expect, shocking.

 So the Dr. and I discussed my options - surgery to remove the  prostate, or radiation. At first I opted for surgery since what he told me about radiation was terrible: probable impotence within a few years and/or incontinence. But then I met with a radiation oncologist, who helpfully laid out all the percentages, or odds, that this or that would occur with this or that treatment. After that I leaned toward external beam radiation, which was a 39-day (weekends off) program. They hit you from a different angle each day which lets surrounding tissues heal as the prostate is zeroed in on each time.

So, that's what I'm looking forward to in October. I then got an injection to essentially cut off testerone production, which forces me, basically, into menopause. The largest problem with that is, while it stops the cancer in its tracks and shrinks the prostate, the goddamned hot flashes. Ask any women who's gone through menopause and she'll give you an earfull - you're suddenly very warm (or the room feels very warm) followed by the most awful cold sweats. This has been going on now for a month and it's pretty much non-stop, two to four times an hour, and it really takes it out of me.

Alright, I'm dealing with the cancer, but the thing that really gets me is the possibility that my sex life is over. My libido is just about zero, though I'm told it will (I hope) it will return. But there's a fair chance it won't, and that has me really worried; it's more worrisome than the bloody cancer! It's not like I had a big love life before all this befell me, but the thought that it might be all over is terrifying. I look back wistfully at my youth, remembering how wonderful it was. It's normal for one's libido to wane, and that's been tough to deal with as I resist getting older. But it WAS there - all I needed was a partner, and, of course, that's a whole 'nother story. But now I'm feeling like I'm caught in a huge vise, with my prospects looking bleak. Am I a whiner? Am I being too negative? I don't know. What I do know is that I'm scared.