No Ifs, Ands, Or…

You may remember this post from a year ago where I saw a urologist for elevated prostate specific antigens. My PSA was a little high, but the prostate was okay. The only condition was I needed to follow-up a year later; in this case, yesterday.

The crazy stupid hot Russian nurse – it’s awesome living amongst Russians – took my vitals, drew blood, and had me urinate into a machine which analyzes it. It was like peeing into a big bucket. Shortly afterward, the doc “probed” me and sat me down to explain a few things.

My PSA level is 2.9, which he described as “a little high for someone who is 49 years old.” He then said, “Now I don’t think this is something we can ignore, and I also don’t think we need to do a biopsy…” Straight talk… I like it. “But I’ll looks at today’s blood work and see you again in two weeks.”

Whew, I dodged that bull-

“That said, if it IS prostate cancer, your version is 100% treatable.”

I’m gonna be honest here; I really didn’t hear anything after the words “prostate cancer.”

So now we play the waiting game. I either have prostate cancer or I don’t, but tune in two weeks from now to see the stunning conclusion!

Oh, and as if the day wasn’t depressing enough, my heart monitor arrived an hour after I arrived home. So now I’m hooked up with electrodes, a monitor, and a mini cellphone I need to press when I have a PVC incident. So yeah, life is just a big old god damned fairy tale.

Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit my primary care physician to follow-up on my heart trouble. It’s been two weeks since my ticker went into overdrive, and while my cardiologist appointment is still two weeks away, this was a good time to make sure everything is okay.

The doc did his usual poking and prodding, checked my vitals and went over the cardiologist’s report. While I had a few premature ventricular contractions (PVCs) after I was released, I haven’t had many since. Actually the one I had Wednesday was the first I’ve experienced in almost a week, so I was feeling good.

Then the doctor turned to me and said, “I think it would be a good idea to fit you with a heart monitor until your cardiologist appointment.”

Eh, what?

Maybe I dozed off, but the doctor had just explained to me the PVCs were not serious, and my heart was very healthy. Dude, either I’m okay, or I’m not. What gives?

The doctor left the room to call the cardiologist, and came back to tell me they both agree. The reasoning behind the move is they want to track any PVCs from now until the appointment, so the cardiologist can better evaluate what’s happening. So now I get to be part cyborg for a fortnight, and who wouldn’t want that?

Naturally, I had a PVC incident about three minutes after I left the office, because of course I would. I’m attributing it to the stress of the day.