I've started my own tradition. Not sure how I would label it - Celebratory? Defiant? Morbid? Somber? Or perhaps Depressing?
Three years ago, I went under the knife to deal with prostate cancer. I got diagnosed with adenocarcinoma (fancy 5 dollar word for cancer) back in 2007 while doing a physical for my trek to Philmont. I won't bore everyone with a rehash the old story, but you want the gory details go take a look back at some of my older postings.
Given the prognosis, I had a couple of options I could take to deal with the situation:
- Expectant Management/watchful wait (do nothing and keep getting probed/tested)
- Radical Prostatectomy (surgery – aka Whack-A-Mole)
- Radiotherapy either (nuk’em till they glow)
- Brachytherapy (stick some radioactive pellets in the neighborhood)
- Cryothreapy (something about freezing the little buggers out)
Pain heals, Chicks dig scars...Glory lasts forever.