Savage Words: Four years ago today was a life-changer

I’m thankful the Journal allows me the freedom to choose various topics each week for this column. Every week, it’s an adventure to zero in on what I might talk about.

I guess I’m an emotional guy. I like to write columns that make people laugh. I’ve also written a few that have tugged on an emotional heart string. Both approaches give me satisfaction.

Sometimes it’s a challenge to come up with a subject. But in late April, it’s a sure-bet I’ll be writing about this, for as many years as I get to do it.

Many of you have heard this story before, and some might be tired of hearing it. But I feel an obligation to continue telling it, because I’m around, and I have the opportunity to tell it. 

I feel that obligation to stay on this subject, because it’s so curable, and too many men die from it each year. 

Four years ago, today, April 29, 2022, the cancer that was in my body was removed. Successfully, thankfully.

When I was diagnosed with prostate cancer a little over four years ago, it was a stunner. When you start knocking that ‘C’ word around, it gets your attention, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.  

One in eight men in the U.S. get diagnosed with prostate cancer at some point in their life. Last year, 36,320 men died from it in our country.

But I’m tellin’ ya fellas, it’s an easy fix if the cancer is found early. If you’re in your late 40s or older, go get a PSA test done. It’s a simple blood test, a simple poke in the arm that takes about 10 seconds.

By doing so just over four years ago, I’m now able to sit here on a Sunday, watch the rain outside, look forward to dinner in a bit, and bang away on this keyboard.

I’d encourage you not to be afraid of it. Guys, statistics alone tell us there’s about a 12.5 percent chance that you’ll be diagnosed with it. 

Will you do something about it?

I hope so. Get your PSA checked.

My PSA was 3.2 back in February of 2022. I thought I was in the clear. From what I had read, anything under 4.0 or so, and you’re in good shape.

My father had prostate cancer in 1999 and underwent the same surgery I did 27 years ago. He’s 87 now, happy and still living in Brandon. 

I was in New York City about two weeks after getting my PSA checked back in 2022. I really didn’t give it much thought because again, at 3.2, I wasn’t nervous about it. 

But I got a phone call from Urology Specialists in Sioux Falls as I was strolling down Central Park West. It was a perfect day, until I had my conversation with the nurse. That was Feb. 3, 2022.

She informed me that my family practice doctor had requested that I should meet with them because of an “elevated PSA.”

Elevated?

I thought I was good at 3.2.

I got back to my hotel and I had an email from my doctor. It essentially read that my PSA number jumped from 2.2 to 3.2 in one year, and to be sure, I should have it checked.

I did. I visited my urologist when I got back from New York.

“You can come see me in three months, you can come see me in six months,” my urologist, Dr. David Arend said.

“But there’s a biopsy in your future.”

This thing seemed to be spinning way too quickly, but I agreed to the biopsy, albeit with a twist in my belly.

On March 22, 2022, I had a biopsy on my prostate. That really sucked. In the end, I’ll always encourage men to get their PSA checked, but the biopsy was tough.

Just two days later, I got a call from the nurse at Urology Specialists that shook me to my core as I drove down Interstate 229 in Sioux Falls. I did indeed have positive cancer cells in my prostate.

But I made an appointment with Dr. Arend, and he settled my nerves, which were frayed – to say the least – after getting the word that I was in for a little fight.

I won’t go into many details, only that I told Dr. Arends that I wanted to meet my grandkids someday. He assured me I would, because it was caught so early.

I asked my doctor at one of our consultations before the surgery that if I didn’t get it done, how long would I live?

Ten years was his answer.

That means I’d have six years left, and I have no idea how I’d be feeling four years into a fight with cancer.

Six years.

That’s tough to get my head around. There’s a bunch of sixth graders at Brandon Valley Intermediate School right now that I’d really like to see compete for a state title some day for the Lynx.

My doctor told me that because I went through with the surgery, I’ll live to be 90. Hope he’s right. I wouldn’t mind seeing those current sixth graders’ kids go for a title, too.

Now, I think I’ve got a shot.

Guys, get it checked.