Anyone who has had cancer holds their breath for their regular tests, even when the pattern has been favorable. For prostate cancer survivors, when a PSA begins rising again—or even creeping up—the anxiety level creeps up with it.
That's the situation I’m facing—my PSA rising in two consecutive tests, from a .9 nadir to 1.3 to 1.5 in December (earlier post). I thought these were low and insignificant numbers until my alarmist urologist began talking “salvage therapy” and another “biopsy” and “cryotherapy” and totally freaked me out.
Really? I didn’t want to hear it. The specter of recurrence hit me harder than the original cancer diagnosis in 2008. Not sure why, but I got upset and depressed for about five days … until I righted that emotional ship again.
I started running more, upping my weekly mileage. Running has always been my salvation. I’ve been a runner since I graduated from the University of Florida, back in 1975. I ran 13 marathons, including a Boston, two New Yorks, and three Chicagos, and covered more than 20,000 miles— a portion of which were therapeutic miles for everyday life crisis’s, large and small.
A creeping PSA qualified for self-imposed therapy. As usual, as my mileage went up, my head cleared. And when I don't feel like running, I have discovered a neat little new trick to get me out on the road.
River rocks.