All that cancer they found in February is gone! It took up the space of about 4 pennies, nestled inside a walnut-sized prostate gland. All gone now, along with the two seminal vesicles. Picture a fleshy bulb with two pigtails suspended above.
Clean margins.
The effect is that I can't make any more sperm, nor as much cum, as before. The docs saved most of the erection nerves, though, so there's still that. Which is a lot.
And, thank God, no more cancer.
Prescription: take antibiotics for three days to prevent bladder infection; over the next week, wean off mild pain medication; walk for exercise; wear disposable diaper to contain leakage; take it easy, like no kegels for the next two weeks, and no lifting or sex for five.
They gave me a chart to keep track off the number of diapers or pads used each day, suggesting it might take 6-9 months before I didn't need them anymore. Jesus! I'm hoping for less than three.
As far as getting it up, Viagra is prescribed, or using a vacuum pump (like the guy I've been corresponding with), but that's still down the road a bit.
The stitches will come out on their own.
I'll have a PSA test in a couple of months, a follow-up with the surgeon in three.
As to the other issue I was concerned about coming into this appointment:
Taking out the catheter was easier, and less painful than I had imagined. The procedure: the nurse cuts the catheter tube just above the shunt to the bladder's balloon. She injects 250mL of saline solution into the tube, thus into my bladder. While I try to hold this in, she deflates the balloon through the shunt. I get set over a basin as she counts to 3. On 2, I take a deep breath, and on 3 I let it out, along with the pee, as she simultaneously jerks out the tube and balloon. Whoa!
(They have a monitor measuring the flow rate to assess the strength of my bladder muscles. Mine looks pretty strong.)
During this first week of recovery, my perceptive wife reminds me that what I call being lazy is what many people mean by healing.
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