Hismones 12/24/25

One year. One year ago today, I took my first Orgovyx (120 mg Relugolix) tablet and began the spiraling down of PSA and Testosterone. Tammy drove extra amounts of miles due to confusion over where the urologist's pharmacy had filled and was holding the prescription, but I (we!) got started. With a PSA of 6.4 at diagnosis, Orgovyx reduced it to 3.1 before February radiation and it has been undetectable since May, tested one month following radiation and twice since. Confirmed by Dr. Keith Courtney's second opinion at UT Southwestern in Dallas, I'll be taking Orgovyx a minimum of six more months, hopefully to finish in June but perhaps extending to December for a full two years. We'll see; PSA tests will advise. Imodium is still a daily friend, and I"m taking Psyllium Husks (fiber) as a prebiotic and also probiotic capsules daily. I've shared previously the various symptoms of living without Testosterone. There are better and worse days, and yesterday was one of the worst. I exercised at the YMCA, took a little break, and then attacked the front yard. I mowed it twice (mulching, then bagging) and spread the mulch thinly over the front plant beds. After lunch, I tinkered with the Miata a bit, trying to solve a fast idling issue. By then, I was exhausted. Tammy and I went for a simple dinner and then downtown to see the Christmas tree in Sundance Square but didn't stop to walk around. I used my cane whenever walking but everything seemed to hurt: feet, hand, back, hip and according to my cardiologist, I can only take Tylenol which gives extremely little help. On the verge of tears (another no-Testosterone effect), I thought "This would be a good night to die." That was completely selfish, of course: wanting to abandon your family during Christmas week, but the pain was pretty awful. I may have mentioned earlier that I lost my dad and sister to suicidal depression, and I swore to Tammy years ago that I will not leave her by choice. I have to push through and after resting last night, today's a better day even after morning exercise, although I'm still a bit tearful while writing. Even though I'm really good at feeling sorry for myself at times, I'm thinking this morning of two friends in struggles with dangerous cancers, one on hospice and on Morphine in his last days, mostly sleeping and the other, a marvelous music teacher taking severe treatments due to late-diagnosed colorectal cancer. And two other friends with prostate cancer who refused hormone (i.e. Orgovyx pill or Lupron injection) therapy, one of whom who said,"I'll die from prostate cancer before I'll take that." I feel pretty blessed spiritually regardless the aches and pains and weakness. Do you recall the scene from "The Green Mile" in which the massive Black man headed for an unjustified execution draws a man close to the cell bars and miraculously breathes in his disease, leaving him healed? That act reminds me of Jesus. "He who knew no sin was made sin on our behalf." While we celebrate the Incarnation at Christmas, I'm reminded of Gethsemane and Calvary where Jesus "breathed in" all our past, current, and future sin and took them with him to crucifixion. I don't expect miraculous physical healing, but that God has allowed and nurtured medical progress that is capable of extending my life. More importantly, I have experienced miraculous soul healing, removing the sin that would have kept me separated from God permanently. That's quite a gift to celebrate Christmas day and every day.