Prostate hurt so bad on a 12-mile run in '84 I had to screech to a halt and lock my butt cheeks 'til it passed. Had to sleep with a pillow between my legs in the '90's betimes and bled out the penis on a run in '09. So on. Had a non-ischemic stroke on a Friday in '15; Saint Elaine (wife) brought a squeeze ball to ICU where brain surgeon told me he "couldn't get to" the site to fix the flat 'cause it was in the basal ganglia and I conked out. Right side was paralyzed. Next AM started squeezing the toy, kicking my right leg, blinking and bugging anybody I saw in ICU to get me the flip OUTTA there. Left Monday with orders to do nothing but walk, EVER. Bought into it and morphed into The Aged Sloth on Quaaludes. Went to Primary for annual checkup and asked him for something to stop my need to pee every 8 seconds. Prescribed tamsulosin and a date with a uro . Finger wave and non-anesthestised Spud gun up my butt (took 13 bites-Dr. scoffed and said, "12" , I said "Bet a hundo." Came up with 13 to send for testing, and he welshed) with a G9 and a stage 4. Told me it was aggressive and put me on Eligard. Fired him and hired an OUTSTANDING chemo Dr. in '16. Had a tat on left Glut "exit" and on the right one with "only" and he pumped in 6 iterations of docataxel.
Coming: Part II "The nebulous Dr.(?) Mason and his Bag O' Palmetto...