Why should you care about Ifor Thomas if you don’t have prostate cancer? Because in this space we are a cancer support community. We care about each other’s journey with different kinds of cancer, and we seek to be supportive. To listen to what the others in our group are going though strengthens our bonds with each other and increases our understand of what cancer takes away from us and what it brings.
It starts with the PSA blood test. If it rises above 4, you might have prostate cancer. The next diagnostic step is a digital rectal exam. Then you move on to an MRI and probably a biopsy, where they take a dozen samples from around the prostate. Pathology looks at the tissue samples and delivers a Gleason verdict.
It’s oddly reassuring to rub elbows with famous people who had prostate cancer, like Dan Fogelberg, the soft-rock singer who grew up here in Peoria, Illinois. I can walk to the places he lived, went to high school, and to Bradley University where his dad was the band director and let him conduct a rehearsal when he was 14. Fogelberg’s songs like “Leader of the Band” and “Longer” were a mainstay of the soft-rock era of the 1970s, ’80s, and early ‘90s.
The same question dogs everyone who gets cancer: Where did it come from? It’s not a critical question because we already have cancer, and our focus is on getting rid of it.
Yet I wanted to know. If my cancer came from an outside source and is environmentally-caused, like exposure to a lawn herbicide or a crop pesticide, which seems to be a problem in agricultural areas, especially in Iowa and Illinois, then I want to stay away from it. Were there industrial carcinogens in my drinking water from fracking? Maybe a pathogen snuck in through a cut in my skin.
I am delighted that my new essay was published today by the Chautauqua Journal.
It’s called “Unmasking In the Monastery.” This makes me so happy!
https://www.chautauquajournal.com/post/unmasking-in-the-monastery
Happy Holy Fools Day! (I’m serious.)
Mark
While I’ve read quite a few memoirs by women about their breast or ovarian cancers, I haven’t found many men who were willing to write even an essay about their prostate cancer, and I think the reason is that prostate cancer hits men where their pride resides.
I’ve read a couple of interviews that Barry gave after his diagnosis where he talked briefly about cancer, but the only writing I’ve found is three pages in his “Deterioration” essay that was published after his death in Embrace Fearlessly the Burning World.
The language we use to describe cancer matters because it speaks of how we are choosing to deal with our cancer.
Some people describe their experiences with cancer as a journey. It’s definitely not a sprint because it goes on for far longer than we expected. Some describe it as a wilderness trek, like hiking the Appalachian Trail, because so much is unknown about what we will encounter along the way. There will be times when we’re exhausted and can’t take another step. There will be storms that batter us around, trails that end and force us to backtrack and find a new route, and large wild and hairy animals show up — a lot of metaphorical, Joseph Campbell stuff.
Mark Shanahan interviewed Fry for his video series for The Boston Globe that first aired in 2020 and was updated in 2025. It’s a six-part series that is informative, hugely funny, and quite personal. The interviews with leading cancer doctors, including Dr. Drew Pinsky, are filled with details about how treatments have greatly improved since the 1980s.
Helen Valier, A History of Prostate Cancer, 2016, Palgrave MacMillan.
This is the best book I’ve found that covers the scope of prostate cancer—history, treatments, and research. While quite a few articles exist elsewhere that deal with the topics in specific ways, Helen Valier has brought everything together, and her book answers most of my questions. I say most because her book came out in 2016, and medical advances have continued to occur over the last nine years. One example is the development of the PSMA-PET scan that can detect trace amounts of cancer cells that traditional scans like the MRI and CT miss.
It’s still shocking to hear the doctor say you have cancer. My annual PSA test came back with a number that was much higher than the year before, so I knew something was afoot. The news surprised me because I had no physical symptoms of a problem. I expected to end up in the large “we’ll watch to see if anything changes” group that most men are in where nothing needs to be done.
By now you’ve heard that Joe Biden has prostate cancer. Even if you don’t know what this means, where the prostate is or what it does, you should realize that his cancer is serious and he will die without treatment.
What I know about Biden’s cancer is that it has a Gleason 9 score and is Grade 5, which means that it’s fast growing and aggressive. It is not the slow-growing kind that 80% of American men get. Apparently, he was having urinary problems, which is common for older men, and went to a doctor to get it checked out.
Men get prostate cancer as frequently as women get breast cancer, yet I’m personally aware of only two men who’ve been treated for prostate cancer, while I know a bunch of women who’ve had breast cancer. I think the reason is that women share their struggles more often.
The difficulty in treating cancer is in determining where it is, how much there is, and what kind of cancer cell is causing a ruckus.
Finding out if you have cancer is the first step, and the sooner you figure this out, the better your outcome will be. So, if your primary doctor suggests you get cancer screening for some part your body, take them up on it. I had no symptoms of prostate cancer, but my annual PSA test with my primary revealed a problem.
