Naught Point Two

Naught Point two  (2017)

Naught point two. A number that is now embedded in my mind for the rest of my life. This is the number my Oncologist said when I attended my appointment at Ayr Hospital, to discuss the outcome of my recent radiotherapy.

This appointment was to prove a landmark in my fight with cancer. Has the hormone treatment worked? Did the radiotherapy prove the right choice?  Before I received any major treatment, the doctor would discuss various treatments: such as surgery(radical prostatectomy), external beam therapy and brachytherapy. I opted for external beam therapy ie radiotherapy and received this treatment every day over a two month period at the Beatson, Glasgow.

By the way, at this point I want to say a huge thanks to the Ayrshire Cancer Support for providing a car service, every day, to the Beatson. The volunteer drivers are excellent and made the drive to and from the hospital very relaxed and made me feel at ease. Well done ACS and other transport services.

0.2 is the result of my recent PSA blood test.

Now (Prostate-specific antigen (PSA) is a protein produced by the prostate gland cells. Elevated levels may indicate prostate cancer, but PSA levels can also be affected by other things, such as enlarged prostate, a urinary tract infection, or recent ejaculation.

Yes, ejaculation! One of life's more pleasurable experiences I may add but sadly now, a rare highlight in my sex life.

My PSA at this tme, indicated a 'normal' level for the first time in over a year and somehow those three words 'not point two' were the best three words I had heard since being diagnosed. So much so, I nearly had an orgasm! 

Now, I am not a numerical type or claim to be a scientist but I do, I think, have the savvy to realise that 0.2 compared to something like 30 or 100 or 2000 is a step in the right direction as far as PSA levels are concerned. So, there I am, looking straight into the face of my doctor while he browsed my files, watching every facial muscle, every eye movement and twitch (like watching a fish in a fishbowl), looking for a sign, any evidence of disappointment or positivity from his face. You know, I am convinced that during their training, I think doctors practice that poker faced demeanor, while us poor patients seeking some glimmer of emotion in that few seconds during the consultation

Anyway. He looks up and I could see that wee sparkle in the eyes. Phew! I knew then before he spoke that automatically, this was going to be good news. "Mr Gemmell, your blood level is at 0.2"." He said. 

Eureka!

At that point my wee imagination ran riot...yees...like I've just scored the winning goal for Scotland in the world cup final at Hampden and it was against England!! Oh well we can dream. At that point, I looked at my wife and I could see she had that look of relief and joy. I could see some of the weight of worry begin to fade from her face. All I wanted to do was leap from the chair and hug every living thing in the room, including the flies. But being a typical, wee 'westy' I allowed my eyes to well up but never to overflow. Boy, the control us males have on our emotions. We thanked the doctor and no harm to him but I could not get out of that room quick enough. We made our way from the room and when we reached the car it was only then that my wife and I let the floodgates go and we cried tears of happiness and relief. 

 When I was first diagnosed, a friend of mine gave me a bottle of the best malt whisky he could find. I have to admit I do enjoy the odd tipple of the golden dram. She said "Put that bottle in a special place in your kitchen so that every day you will see it but you have not to touch it until you have beaten this cancer."

What was the first thing I did that evening. Popped the bottle and sipped a few glasses of one of Scotland's best malts. It was like New Year's eve. Well, given that I was receiving radiotherapy over the festive period, this was the start of making up for it. HIC! 

 What next?

For me, this is now a time for reflection. I have always been a bohemian type, writing songs, poetry, art and forever looking at life from way outside the box. But I do also have the so called 'ordinary' lifestyle, the 9-5 job (at the time of writing I was part time), a wife, a grandchild and the usual supermarket runs, but, I have always believed that 'variety is the spice of life' and when challenged I would have a go. Therefore, I have been fortunate enough to find the space and time between 'normal' living to experience being out of the box. I remember reading that even Einstein took to living a bohemian lifestyle walking around in hippy style garments or pyjamas way before the 60's era of flower power. 

 I believe that I am not too deeply engrained in 'normal' living, especially at this late stage in my life, to ignore my bohemian thoughts. I believe I have a mind that can see round corners. I have been wired to try and unpick the taught strands of life and seek out the different and the unusual. Where would we have been when millions of years ago our neanderthal relatives decided to stay in caves, not evolve and live life hunting, conceiving and eventually dying off because there was no advancement in their surroundings. Thank, (God or whoever), for those neanderthals that decided to invent and diversify, breakaway from the norm. What would have happened to the human race if they had not?  You can't write poetry like for example Dylan Thomas or paint like Salvador Dali without a level of irresponsibility or non conformity. 

 So, my message in this present state of mind is...find the space and time to carry out my ideas. Don't be frightened to do so. I have, just (hopefully) beat cancer and that magic 0.2 blood level has sparked off a new era in the world of Eddy.