My Prostate, My Life

I cannot over-emphasize the importance and benefit of being a well-informed and a pro-active medical consumer.
With your kind permission, I relate my recent experience with the medical system.

I had prostate surgery in mid-September at a first-rate Phoenix hospital after 18 days of extreme discomfort. My prostate was so swollen that both exit-ramps to the biological super-highway were blocked --51 grams were removed, as it turned out, and there was no cancer. In that period I went to my primary-care physician, name available on request, (who prescribed cipro to knock out a probable infection), a lab for a CAT-scan, and upon referral, to a urologist, name available on request (for an ultra-sound).

I took the urologist at his word when he called for TURP surgery. Frankly, I had neither the time nor the inclination to conduct extensive research. I just wanted to get rid of the catheter and its thigh-hugging bag.

Once I awoke post-surgery I had time for all kinds of spiritual and existential thoughts.
Among the former was the realization that this was my first brush with my own mortality even though I am staring at 70 in my daytime running-lights. And yes, this was "my foxhole." Yet I found it highly unlikely that of all the things going on in this world, other worlds, and other universes, that any divine entity could possibly take an interest in my bladder, my prostate, my life, or my family. I was even further annoyed at the idea of some kind of "intelligent design" having anything to do with creating an organ as poorly-designed as the prostate.

As far as medical care, it was a marvelous experience. Sure, I'd have liked the process to have been quicker. But I understood that tests needed to be done, that caution needed to be taken, that arrangements needed to be made. But there I was: On the mend after a $200 co-pay on my Medicare Advantage Plan.

So what do the uninsured do? I pondered. How much inquisition-like hell would a man have to put up with until someone drove him to an Emergency Room? Would his outcome be as great as mine turned out to be? And would the taxpayers be happy about picking up the tab?

With all the time in the world, I realized, as I lay there in my hospital bed that something has to be done. Single payer? Mandatory coverage with the elimination of prior conditions? Public option? National portability? Lowering Medicare to age zero? Frankly, I don't care. Anything has got to be better than our current system. There are too damned many people with no health-insurance coverage. Medical care is too expensive. Ditto drugs. And objectively measured we are low-man on the totem pole when comparing the health and longevity of our countrymen to other residents of the industrialized nations of the world.

And before I knew it --actually, three days was enough to spend at even a wonderful hospital-- I was back at home, once again with my new best friend strapped, six-shooter-style, to my leg.

Then it was indeed time to take control of my care.

First, my wife and I had to reevaluate my urologist. He had no bedside manner. I could live with that. His office, plastered as it is with signs warning to not do this and not do that, was less than inviting. I could live with that. But I drew the line at come-back-and-see-me-after-three-months-of-self-catheterizing, and consider-that-this-may-be-as-good-as-it-gets. A second opinion was called for.

Urologist #2, name available on request, showed me exercises to strengthen my severely-enlarged bladder. He took me off the medication. He wanted to see me in one month.

Most importantly for my recovery, I resumed my visits to the chiropractor, name available on request, who has been caring for me for nearly 10 years. He focused on L4, the region of the backbone that controls the gastro-intestinal tract. The result was immediate and dramatic. As soon as I went home from his office I was able to void my bladder more by myself than I did with the catheter.

Moreover, the chiropractor recommended that I see a naturopathic physician, name available on request, who prescribed various botanicals and supplements.

Within two weeks my self-catheterizing was down from three-times-daily to once-before-bedtime. Five days later: Zip. Nada. Zero.

Now everything works fine. Yes, everything!!

So that's the story of my prostate and my life in the last quarter of 2009, including my conclusion that while health-care in this country is great, it's not great enough for the greatest number of people.

You are in a position to do something about the state of the nation's health-care system. "Just do it."