Riding the post surgery bronco of prostate cancer every day is a new adventure. This morning I felt profoundly different from the night before. My whole body and mind had changed. I had turned a shadowy corner into sunshine. My body felt lighter metaphorically and physically, and my mind brighter, more optimistic, clear and calm, which was surprising, because yesterday was a difficult day.
Riding the post surgery bronco of prostate cancer means there are good and bad days. I should know that’s the case with all medical recoveries, and certainly from my experience of caring for my son Jago a few years ago when he was near paralysed by chronic illness. As the bronco tries to throw you off, you cling white knuckled to the saddle pommel. You get thrashed and bumped around. I hoped the surgery survives, and that another good day would inevitably follow. How naïve! I had forgotten how the universe works.
It was 330 am on Saturday morning when I woke with an intense pain in my left knee. My leg would not bend. Even though I was half asleep, I knew my knee was connected to the thigh bone, but not to the prostate or the six surgery holes in my stomach. Something new had happened.
Friday was a pleasant surprise after some tough days earlier in the week. However, Caro’s internet search revealed my knee symptoms might vicariously be connected to prostate surgery. I might have had a DVT.
Deep vein thrombosis is one of the possible side effects of the surgery the medics warn about. The hospital had thoughtfully provided me with tight, oh, so very squeaky tight, knee high green socks to wear. These less than high fashion stranglers throttle my lower legs and feet. Somehow, perversely, you know it is good for you. Had these stranglers not worked?
My knee was hot, painful, and if a DVT was the cause, potentially dangerous. We called the hospital’s urology ward, as they had advised us, if a problem arose. ‘Go to the nearest A&E,’ the night nurse said.
Arriving at the emergency unit at 4: 45 am, I staggered in slow and lame. Any weight I placed on my left leg was excruciating. The team dutifully investigated my suspected DVT, ran tests, and gave me a shot of a very strong painkiller. The registrar ruled out DTV or infection. I had Bursitis. Good news, although I do not know why I got it. We left at 1030 clutching new medications. I limped to the car and thought, ‘I am supposed to be introducing exercise as soon as I can to help my recovery from surgery and now I can’t walk properly.’ What a way to start a Saturday!
The day before, I had felt much better, as I finally shed blocked toxins. The morphine, anaesthetics and multiple painkillers that come with the ride caused a blockage. Explaining this to you isn’t easy. After resisting the lure of laxatives for a day or two, I buckled. Bellissimo! Good things come to pass.
I also realised this morning it was seven years to the day since I had waved off my son Jago on his global trip. Months later he fell ill and a difficult few years followed. On the anniversary of this tough period beginning, I found myself with a much less painful knee. Last night I also had the best sleep since before the surgery. I sat for extended periods for the first time this week. After Saturday’s problems, the roulette wheel spun again. Somehow, my knees’ worst stiffness and pain had gone. I could cope with its continuing twinges. Years ago, I crossed the Wadi Rhum with a broken ankle with no doctor to see for hundreds of miles. This morning I managed a walk outside for the first time since surgery. It was a reminder that difficult times do not last forever. Along the canal near us, I gleefully took in the tree’s fast turning autumn colours and headed out across the meadow with a distant horizon of the grey hills, an improvement on the other side of various rooms this week. It was good to be alive.
Next, I have today’s self-administered injection in the stomach of blood thinners. A reminder the challenges are not over. Life’s moods and joys can hang on moments, but some days you wake up feeling great and still do hours later!
If you have questions about my prostate cancer story, please ask them.
Read more about earlier in my prostate cancer story here: https://northofmynuts.co.uk/the-shadow/
For more information on the condition you can look at https://prostatecanceruk.org/
Glad to hear you’ve turned a corner and making progress. The NHS are completely brilliant in my view, even including GRH A&E. Nothing to do with your condition but I know about the pesky side effects of medication and the roller coaster ride of recovery, it isn’t linear and progress isn’t always positive, some days are better than others and some days seem a set back. I used to reflect how I was a week before and usually I was bit better, as time went on recovery speeded up massively. Stay positive, I hope you will be fine soon.
Very good advice that I agree with Dave. Thank you!
David great Read I’m just analyzing whether I’d prefer a bucking bronco Ride or a walk along pleasant canal.
How long did it take to decide? 0.o1 of a second?!