As many of you know, since I described it in full agony here, a while back I underwent prostrate surgery after being diagnosed with prostate cancer.
In most cases, that solves the issue of that cancer.
However, in about a third of the cases, what is known as the PSA count, which once your prostate is gone should be between 0.0 and 0.1, began to arise in my case recently... a couple of years or so after the surgery.
That meant that the good doctors were very concerned that some cancer cells had been left behind, and thus they ordered a scan.
The scan revealed something very scary when compared to the same area from a 2015 scan.
What you are seeing there is my pelvic region and the white things forming a "V" on the center of the scan are my pelvic bones. The doctors noticed that since 2015 the left pelvic bone had developed that white area (compare to the right pelvic bone), which in many cases indicates that the cancer had jumped to the bones.
Since the pelvic bone is the favorite place for prostrate cancer to migrate to, there was a pretty good chance that I now had bone cancer.
The bullet had been fired.
Next came a bone biopsy, consisting of laying on your back and having a nurse comfort you while a doctor uses a drill to drill into your pelvic bone and extract bone matter... three different times.
It hurt like a motherfucker.
A tense week later the results came in, and the bone was not cancerous.
The bullet was dodged... a giant bullet.
And last Thursday I started radiation treatment for the prostrate bed area, which I will be undergoing for seven and a half weeks... everyday Monday through Friday.
My instructions were to show up with a full bladder, apparently because it helps to "push" the bladder away from the prostate area while you're laying down on the radiation room table, and thus tends to minimize damage to the bladder while they're nuking your ass region.
I overdid it, and my bladder was ready to explode when I showed up to the treatment.
"I think that I overdid the full bladder thing," I explained to the two radiation techs, "I'm about to explode."
"You wanna go to the bathroom and empty some of it," suggested the lady tech.
Both the other male tech and I looked at her. "I know of no man on the planet who can stop peeing in mid pee operations and hold it," I commented wryly while the other guy agreed silently.
"I'll be OK," I added laying on the table and hoping that I was right.
It wasn't.
It was hell, that's what it was. I recall reading somewhere how the Emperor Caligula used to entertain his guests by having giant parties where one of the "shows" was to have a number of poor bastards who had their dicks sealed with string, and then they were forced fed water with a funnel until their bladders exploded.
"At least my dick is not tied up," I thought to myself while the minutes passed and my private Caligulan torture moved on.
Eventually it was over.
"The doctor wants to show you something," said one of the techs.
"Not before I hit the head," I responded as I ambled to the bathroom holding my crank like a five year old boy and with my hospital robe fully opened on my back and showing my radiated ass to the world... at that moment I didn't care.
As I approached the bathroom, I was hoping that there was no one using it... and the head gods were on the side of this old sailor and I popped in and began to pump bilges.
Half an hour later, fully drained and feeling much better I returned to see what the doctors and techs wanted to show me.
"We believe that you have set a new world's record for the largest expanded bladder ever recorded on film," they told me, showing me what looked like a giant balloon inside me. "It doesn't have to be this full," they added.
And that's the story of last Thursday, the first of seven and a half weeks of ass nuking.
In most cases, that solves the issue of that cancer.
However, in about a third of the cases, what is known as the PSA count, which once your prostate is gone should be between 0.0 and 0.1, began to arise in my case recently... a couple of years or so after the surgery.
That meant that the good doctors were very concerned that some cancer cells had been left behind, and thus they ordered a scan.
The scan revealed something very scary when compared to the same area from a 2015 scan.
What you are seeing there is my pelvic region and the white things forming a "V" on the center of the scan are my pelvic bones. The doctors noticed that since 2015 the left pelvic bone had developed that white area (compare to the right pelvic bone), which in many cases indicates that the cancer had jumped to the bones.
Since the pelvic bone is the favorite place for prostrate cancer to migrate to, there was a pretty good chance that I now had bone cancer.
The bullet had been fired.
Next came a bone biopsy, consisting of laying on your back and having a nurse comfort you while a doctor uses a drill to drill into your pelvic bone and extract bone matter... three different times.
It hurt like a motherfucker.
A tense week later the results came in, and the bone was not cancerous.
The bullet was dodged... a giant bullet.
And last Thursday I started radiation treatment for the prostrate bed area, which I will be undergoing for seven and a half weeks... everyday Monday through Friday.
My instructions were to show up with a full bladder, apparently because it helps to "push" the bladder away from the prostate area while you're laying down on the radiation room table, and thus tends to minimize damage to the bladder while they're nuking your ass region.
I overdid it, and my bladder was ready to explode when I showed up to the treatment.
"I think that I overdid the full bladder thing," I explained to the two radiation techs, "I'm about to explode."
"You wanna go to the bathroom and empty some of it," suggested the lady tech.
Both the other male tech and I looked at her. "I know of no man on the planet who can stop peeing in mid pee operations and hold it," I commented wryly while the other guy agreed silently.
"I'll be OK," I added laying on the table and hoping that I was right.
It wasn't.
It was hell, that's what it was. I recall reading somewhere how the Emperor Caligula used to entertain his guests by having giant parties where one of the "shows" was to have a number of poor bastards who had their dicks sealed with string, and then they were forced fed water with a funnel until their bladders exploded.
"At least my dick is not tied up," I thought to myself while the minutes passed and my private Caligulan torture moved on.
Eventually it was over.
"The doctor wants to show you something," said one of the techs.
"Not before I hit the head," I responded as I ambled to the bathroom holding my crank like a five year old boy and with my hospital robe fully opened on my back and showing my radiated ass to the world... at that moment I didn't care.
As I approached the bathroom, I was hoping that there was no one using it... and the head gods were on the side of this old sailor and I popped in and began to pump bilges.
Half an hour later, fully drained and feeling much better I returned to see what the doctors and techs wanted to show me.
"We believe that you have set a new world's record for the largest expanded bladder ever recorded on film," they told me, showing me what looked like a giant balloon inside me. "It doesn't have to be this full," they added.
And that's the story of last Thursday, the first of seven and a half weeks of ass nuking.
