Come Monday morning I’ll be feeling a might troubled but by Monday afternoon those feelings will go straight to the bottom.
You see I’m scheduled for a prostate biopsy; that nasty treat in which tens of thousands of men - most of them being old men of varying age - have to go through. That is, if we want to live longer by avoiding the likes of prostate cancer.
Annually, around 242,000 American men are diagnosed with prostate cancer. And the male-only disease will steal the lives of around 30,000 of them, says the National Cancer Institute.
Had many of these men gone through the uncomfortable blood-letting to extract the body’s elixir for the prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood test and also submitted to the yes-embarrassing rectal prostate exam many of these men would still be alive.
That’s why I’ve been having both tests done for 12 years now, ever since I turned 50.
However, it was my unlucky turn this year to see a spike in my PSA readings.
These numbers that didn’t shrink much following two subsequent blood tests and one more physical exam.
As a result, urologist Lawrence Wolkoff said I needed the prostate biopsy.
The Cancer Institute explains that the so-called “transrectal biopsy is “.. the only sure way to diagnose prostate cancer.”
Pressed for odds as to what he possibly/likely will find and Wolkoff reluctantly said the odds were 60-40 in favor of finding prostate cancer.
That was more than enough to convince me to go through with the biopsy.
Not that I’m expecting the 10- to 15-minute procedure to be one of the year’s top highlights.
It’s going to be uncomfortable, yes, says Wolkoff, who (sort of) scoffed at my suggestion that he first juice me up with a Valium tablet.
And why not?
The process includes a requirement for a “Fleet enema.” This little bit of medical gear is bought over-the-counter at any drug store.
And because trying to give yourself an enema would require having all the arms of a Hindu god I’ll be required to employ my wife, Bev, for the rather unpleasant, shall we say, enterprise.
A little more than an hour later I’ll visit Wolkoff who’ll have me strip, put on a hospital gown, step into a smallish room and lay on my side.
At that point (pun intended) Wolkoff will “insert” needles through the rectum and then into the prostate gland.
Those needles will include a type of Novocaine to help deaden the pain.
Along with inserting the nerve block the needles will drill out about 10 or more “cores” from various parts of the walnut-size prostate.
The reason is to take samples from enough locations so as to ensure that a diseased portion of the prostate is not overlooked.
Fair enough, I figured, and just as scientifically sound.
Once the cores are removed they’ll be labeled and bundled up and sent to a pathologist who’ll poke around the samples, looking for any cancer cells.
After the pathologist has concluded his survey work he’ll issue a detailed report and send it to Wolkoff who then will either ease my mind or drop the bombshell.
I’ve heard from men who’ve had the procedure.
Among them being both my father-in-law and one of my brothers-in-law.
Not exactly a piece of cake, they say, but not like I’m going to be put on the rack or have my fingernails pulled out.
Yet I am aware that at least one study says that 55 percent of the men who’ve undergone a transrectal biopsy report being uncomfortable during the procedure.
Meanwhile, another study found that 20 percent of the men who’ve experienced the procedure would undertake it again only if they were first given a general anesthetic.
Ain’t going to happen, the pros tell me.
I even asked an anesthesiologist who attends our church - Dr. John Hagopian - if he’s ever knocked a wussy old man old for a transrectal biopsy.
His answer was short, blunt and to the point: “No.”
And so I’ll fret the rest of this weekend away, a habit that I’ve refined to an art form.
Then on Monday I’ll visit Wolkoff and pray that it’s the fastest 10 minutes of my life.
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Jeffrey L. Frischkorn
JFrischkorn@News-Herald.com
Twitter: @Fieldkorn
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