3 years and still kicking

If you hang around this blog long enough, you might surmise that I am big on traditions. School, patriotic, holidays, family, work, football. I seem to have a tradition for everything.

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:

1. Expectant Management/watchful wait (do nothing and keep getting probed/tested)
2. Radical Prostatectomy (surgery – aka Whack-A-Mole)
3. Radiotherapy either (nuk’em till they glow)
4. Brachytherapy (stick some radioactive pellets in the neighborhood)
5. Cryothreapy (something about freezing the little buggers out)

None of those sounded all that exciting to me and I eventually chose the surgery route and went under the knife and came out clean on the other side. Follow up exams show I am still "cancer free". I have marked this event down in my calendar to remind myself just how lucky I am. Not everyone who has been diagnosed with this crap has done so well. I've been able to go back to my normal bad habits/life style without any major issues. Sometimes, when things get busy/hectic/chaotic, I will forget that this even happened. Whenever I get too busy or self-absorbed with my own petty problems, I need subtle reminder not to take things for granted. That's one of the reasons I started running the half marathon about 3 years ago. Actually, I did try to run it in 2008 before my surgery, but the race was completely booked up and the only openings were in the adjoining 10k race held at the same time. So, technically, I've been participating in the hoopla for 4 years now. Come this Sunday, this will be my 3rd time at bat. I hope to break my time from last year, but will be glad to make it across the finish line upright. Occasionally, family/friends will ask why I do this and my reply that it reminds me that I'm still alive. I may be sore & stiff come Monday morning, but at least I am still around to complain about it.

Pain heals, Chicks dig scars...Glory lasts forever.

5 days and counting.

      

Looking back now, I just realized that I started this feeble attempt at blogging around that time, so I guess I could call this a 3 year old blog. I've been told I'm full of BS, just didn't think I had so much to make it last this long.