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In a month’s time, I will no longer have a prostate. It’s an odd feeling to lose something every man is born with.

An NHS consultant told me in May I had prostate cancer — just two days before I got married to Caro. Perhaps not the easiest thing for us to discover at the start of our marriage. However, we were determined it would not spoil the day. It certainly did not! We chose not to tell everyone then and to wait until the further tests and biopsies confirmed what would happen to me. The day was filled with laughter, dancing, delicious food, good conversation and has generated lots of wonderful memories.

This blog is about my attitude to having the disease and how I will live with prostate cancer, the most common cancer in the UK. My aim is to encourage other men to get early treatment. Not enough men in the UK get a regular test for prostate cancer. The first line defense to discover prostate cancer.

Many friends and acquaintances I have asked had never taken the PSA test, which surprised me. It is the first indicator of a possible problem. Late discovery of the condition leads to less successful outcomes and recovery.

I had no symptoms and had previously had several tests, which caused no concern. My GP initially said I didn’t really need another PSA test, but I had one anyway and discovered things were going wrong. More men need to get regularly tested.

Everyone’s cancer experience is unique.I can only give my impression and views, skewed as they may be, but I hope they are still useful  for others. I am fortunate my cancer is treatable. I am very grateful for Caro’s support, and for the NHS treatment process that swung into place after a PSA test rang alarm bells. Prostate cancer is something I will live with until I probably die from another cause. I am to face the challenges there will be with humour when I can find it.

‘It’s not lying down cancer,’ I gently observed, when a kind person earnestly commiserated with me for having the disease. ‘Although maybe you’re right,’ I continued, ‘because I will be prostrate after the surgery.’

Humour about prostate cancer is clearly a work in progress. When I mentioned this to the surgeon, he assured me urologists tell loads of prostate jokes. The dark humour of war zones came to mind — I imagined them at work in a M.A.S.H  like prostate surgery unit. However, he has not yet shared the gags with me, I’ll take the chance if he offers to tell me some.

I haven’t come up with anything yet that makes me laugh about the removal of my prostate, perhaps I will eventually.

Caro and I quickly adopted a ‘live as normally as we can’ attitude, but there have been some dark moments as the test procedures unfolded. Months of uncertainty about the outcome were unsettling. Now all the test confirmations are in. I need treatment to stop the cancer from spreading. To my surprise, the decision on which of several treatment routes I should take proved easier than I expected.

If you subscribe to North of My Nuts, you can follow my progress as it unfolds. Sharing my story may help other men get help sooner. If you have questions for me, you can ask them in the comments box.

In the next post, The Shadow, I will explain how things unfolded after the PSA test pointed to a problem.

If you are a man over 50, please get a regular PSA test. It’s simple, quick and easy to get done through your GP. If you have male partners or friends, suggest they get a PSA check.

The next post is here:https://northofmynuts.co.uk/the-shadow/