I just received the news about the two scans I had yesterday, at the Mayo Clinic. I haven’t spoken with anyone yet, not even sent a text. I almost sat down in a cosy waiting room to take it in or send some texts, but I realized that I probably have some crying to do. I walked out of the hospital, bought a cup of coffee, found a nice little park, and did what felt best. I wrote, this blog post.

My case is different again. The careful plans will not be followed again, and my cancer isn’t horrible but bad, again. The previous plans had a reasonable chance of curing my cancer, even the one that ended about an hour ago. In that plan, my cancer was confined to my pelvic area, and that can be treated with radiation, with a likely cure. The meeting I just finished showed me how that plan has changed. The scans I had yesterday show that my cancer is outside my pelvis and into some lymph nodes in my lower abdomen.

The Mayo is the best hospital in the US for my cancer, and my doctors here told me that radiation and a cure are no longer the goal. The goal now is keeping the cancer from spreading more, for the rest of my life. Once it’s outside of the abdomen, the rules change. The cancer is more established in more places. The treatment will be turning off my testosterone again, but this time, we probably won’t turn it back on, ever. This time, I hope the plan changes.

The part that hits me the hardest is that turning off my testosterone for years will reduce my bone mass and muscle density. One of my absolute favorite hobbies is distance cycling, for days or weeks. As I mentioned in my previous post, my latest dream is cycling around the world. That’s hard for most people to understand, but with very sincere respect, I don’t understand most people.

I don’t understand watching TV, when you could be outside. I don’t understand long meals when you could enjoy the fulfilment of hours of exercise. Most people might want a hug after getting this news. I want to get on my bike. I honestly don’t mean to criticize most people, and if it does sound that way, please be patient with me, since I did just get some tough news. But even though I don’t understand most people, I respect their passions. One of my strongest has been distance cycling. It’s an emotional body-blow to see that fade, even a little.

I’m already looking for options. My muscle mass will decrease over months and years without testosterone, but I can still go a little ways. Even better, maybe I should go on a long ride soon.

Wandering topics, I also need to get my testosterone shut off soon. It’s at full strength right now, so my cancer is having a great time. That long ride may have to happen very soon.

A few minutes ago, some people in their 20s sat down near me. A couple of them are smoking. I’m slightly tempted to say something, but right now and probably for a while, I’m going to focus on me a lot. In a previous post, I described the importance of dignity, and I must enjoy this wonderful life. That’ll take some thought, some writing, and talking with the many special people in my life. I better send them a text now, maybe talk on the phone.

My cancer is no longer tiny, but it’s impact still can be, even if it includes some occasional tears.