A Backroad I Never Planned to Travel

The Checkup That Changed Everything

In April of 2025, I walked into my doctor’s office expecting a routine diabetic checkup. Nothing special. Nothing dramatic. Just another day.

But when the bloodwork came back, my doctor didn’t start with my A1C.

She said, “Your PSA is high.”

My number was 13.31 — high enough that she sent me straight to a urologist.

I didn’t feel sick. I didn’t feel any different. But that number planted a seed of worry I couldn’t shake.

I scheduled the appointment, but I couldn’t get in to see the urologist until May.

Meeting the Urologist

My urologist tried to keep things calm. She said PSA can rise from something as simple as riding a bicycle. Still, she ordered an MRI — “just to be sure.”

When the results came back, everything changed.

The MRI showed a PI-RADS 5 lesion — the highest category, meaning cancer was very likely.
A 3.6-centimeter mass.
Possible capsule involvement.
No bone or lymph node spread — a blessing — but the seriousness was undeniable.

That was the moment the ground shifted under my feet.

The Biopsy and the Diagnosis

The doctor scheduled a fusion-guided biopsy and walked me through every risk.
I showed up. I took the meds. I got it done.

On July 2nd, 2025, the results confirmed it:

• Gleason 7 (4+3) in the main lesion
• Gleason 7 (3+4) in three other cores
• Gleason 6 (3+3) in one core
• One core with suspicious cells

Intermediate-risk prostate cancer.
Unfavorable intermediate grade.

Around the same time, I started noticing swelling in my legs — another problem added to the pile.

The PET Scan and the Lymph Node Question

The PET scan lit up the prostate, as expected.
But it also showed a 10 mm lymph node with mild uptake — possibly cancer, possibly inflammation. No clear answer.

I remember telling the doctor:

“I just want it cut out.”

I meant it. I was ready to fight.

Choosing Surgery

After weighing radiation versus surgery, I chose surgery.
I wanted the cancer out.
I wanted the best shot at long-term survival — even with the risks.

In November 2025, I had a robotic prostatectomy.
When the catheter came out on November 26th, I hoped that chapter was over.

But the pathology report told a deeper story:

•  Cancer in both lobes
• 60% of the prostate involved
• Lymphovascular invasion
• Perineural invasion
• Extraprostatic extension into the bladder neck
• Seminal vesicles clear
• Lymph nodes negative
• Stage pT3a

I had won the first battle, but the war wasn’t over.

The Hardest Part: Urinary Retention

Most men struggle with leakage after prostatectomy.
I struggled with the opposite — I couldn’t pee at all.

I failed multiple voiding trials.
I needed catheter after catheter.
It was frustrating. Painful. Humbling.

But I kept going.

A Breath of Good News

Then came the first real victory:

My PSA after surgery was undetectable.

That was a moment of grace.
A reminder that the fight was worth it.

My doctors told me I’d likely need radiation later because of the pathology — but for now, the cancer was out.
And that was enough to keep me moving forward.

Finding My New Normal

In January 2026, I went back to work.

Still leaking.
Still healing.
Still wearing Depends.
Still doing Kegels.
Still figuring out my new normal.

But I showed up.
I kept moving.
I kept believing.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, I realized my story might help another man feel less alone.

Why I’m Sharing This

I’m not telling this story for sympathy.

I’m telling it because I know there’s another man out there who’s scared, confused, or ignoring his PSA.
A man who thinks he’s too tough, too busy, or too healthy to worry about prostate cancer.

If my story helps him get checked…
If it helps him take the next step…
If it helps him feel less alone…

Then every hard moment has meaning.

This is my journey.
And I’m still walking it — one day, one prayer, one step at a time.