Last day of Radiation: Not feeling the expected emotions of relief

After taking years (while I was on active surveillance) to come up with a treatment plan that was right for me, I was confident that my 28 sessions of proton radiation therapy + 6 months of Eligard would be successful.

However, I expressed to my medical oncologist that I didn’t want to go through the anxiety of waiting 3 months for my first post-treatment PSA test. So we scheduled a PSA test for that last day of radiation treatment.

What was a PSA of 7.976 as treatment started was 0.224 at the end of treatment. That gave me confidence that we were on the right path. Then, 6 weeks later (at my 2nd and final Eligard injection) my PSA was 0.008. Again, more confidence; that 0.008 lasted for two more PSA tests; even more confidence.

Now 4-1/2 years since treatments ended, I’m
still miles away from the day when my doctors tell me “…there is nothing else they can do.” That doesn’t even cross my mind.

(And yet, I wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t admit that every time my MyChart indicates “you have another PSA test result” that I hesitate just a bit….”)

My recommendation would be to get a PSA test today and settle this one way or the other. Have confidence that the path you’ve chosen will be a successful one.
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Finally, with all the research that I did, I overlooked one thing —> I was caught by surprise on the last day as I was leaving the proton radiation treatment facility. The entire radiation team was gathered around with a Certificate of Completion that they had all signed, as well as a bell for me to ring. Somehow, In all my studying up on all the various treatments, I totally missed that protocol for completion of radiation treatment. Still, that day was as much for them (as a team) as it was for me, so I completed that final task just before I left to go home.

@brianjarvis I'll never forget the entire group of folks watching as I rang the bell. It was beautiful.

I understand how you're feeling. It took me a few years not to feel apprehensive all the time, and I still feel that way some of the time.

Here's my advice:

1. Acceptance — "Of course I feel negative! I have f****** cancer. I don't need to beat mtself up for not being perky and optimistic all the time."

2. Separate feelings from reality - "The fact that I feel fatalistic doesn't mean something bad's going to happen. It's just a feeling I'm experiencing right now, and it will pass as new feelings arrive. I can't predict the future: it's not written yet."

3. Commit to leaving room for joy - "It's OK to let myself feel good sometimes even when I'm in a crappy situation. At the end of each day, I'll make a list of all my little moments of joy — a nice cup of coffee, a cuddle with a dog, a walk in the rain, listening to my favourite song — to help myself remember that they're always there."

Best of luck!

@northoftheborder
Thanks North! This really helps!! 🙂

@johndavis60
Great that you have that hoppy. It is why when I post really try to promote doing an exercise or hobby you like.

Yes, trepidation is now my lifelong companion.

It has reduced over the last 2 yrs for me, although I know that I am one PSA test away from disappointment.

I do believe that my PCa will and can be managed as a chronic disease upon recurrence. I hate the idea; but hey, I have cancer that is never definitively cured.

So, onward with life.

Somewhat surprisingly to me, while I do not fret about my PCa daily, I do find myself making choices regularly to enjoy life and family. And that has been good.

Best wishes.

And I was 72 at diagnosis; 75 now and I don't worry about microplastics or black plastic kitchen tools or charring my steak on the grill.🫢

I respect those concerns; they are just not in my field of vision right now.

@kenshabby There's new stuff going on all the time. There is a new Bipolar Androgen Therapy (BAT) that's showing promise. They treat the cancer with high levels of testosterone and then an ADT type of drug. The theory is the cancer has learned to live without testosterone and high doses disrupts it to where it dies. Pretty interesting.
https://www.pcf.org/how-bipolar-androgen-therapy-works/
"It’s all about creating chaos in the environment, so the cancer cells can’t thrive, and timing is critical. “ADT initially works because prostate cancer cells are suddenly deprived of testosterone, and most of them can’t survive this shock.” Cancer cells die by the thousands, PSA plummets, imaging scans show cancer shrinking, and symptoms improve. But prostate cancer, like the Road Runner, is elusive. Over time, the hardy band of surviving cells regroups, adapts to living in the low-testosterone environment, and begins to grow again. “BAT is a similar type of hormone shock – just in the opposite direction,” says Denmeade. “A key feature of BAT is the rapid change from a very high- to low-testosterone level.” Men remain on ADT, and receive monthly shots of high-dose testosterone, which gradually fades, then bumps back up again with the next monthly shot. That’s the bipolar part of Bipolar Androgen Therapy (see Figure). “The repeated shocks of BAT cycling don’t give the cancer cells time to adapt, “because the underlying environment is always changing.”

@bonanzaman Good find…read about a man in England being ‘cured’ with this type of therapy, but with just one cycle of hormones.
Reminds me of an old woman who laughed at me many years ago when she saw a nasty case of poison ivy on my arm. She told me that her children never got it because she made them EAT it in the early spring.
I figured she must be demented because if it did this to my arm, what would it do to the mucous membranes of my throat??!!
But advocates of homeopathic medicine swear by this approach of treating disease with the agent that causes it; they even sell poison Ivy capsules so you don’t have to forage…weird huh??
And NO, I never tried it!!😂😂