It is just six weeks since I began hormone therapy. Not exactly a long time and yet it seems an eternity when I think of the range of emotions and the variation in the intensity of pain I have felt. It’s fair to say that at the moment, I am not a fan of hormone treatment. I may change my mind when I start on a different drug in June and of course, the ultimate test is, how successful is it?
I am still suffering pain at times but fortunately, not everywhere at the same time. Also, my physical strength is way down compared to a few months ago. I struggle to do things which were fairly easy and I despair at the thought that I may not ever run again. I comfortably ran 5km just before Xmas.
I have been told that I will be on hormone therapy for at least two years. At the moment it seems more like a punishment than a treatment. On the up side, I will be having a CT scan at the end of the month and Radiotherapy will start about a month later. I am now anxious to get on with it.
In my idea of Utopia, radiotherapy would entail laying in a darkened room listening to tapes of all the old Fluff Freeman radio shows. Conversely, radiotherapy hell would be the same darkened room and being forced to listen to Chris Moyles. That would be worse than the real radiotherapy.
While I’m in a good mood, a Limerick.
I wanted to know the answer
To, "why have I got Prostate Cancer?"
When I asked a nurse,
"Why must I suffer this curse?"
She replied, "Just because you're a man, sir."