Could Cancer Ever SAVE Your Life?

I never dreamed I would be saying this, but…

Cancer very likely saved my life!

Skeptical? I can’t blame you.

First, a little background on my cancer journey. I was diagnosed with stage III prostate cancer in 2014. I thought I was at death’s door. I had my prostate removed that year, but my PSA started to rise again, and cancer made a big comeback in 2015. 

Thankfully, radiation and hormone therapy fended off the little creep, and I coasted through eight years of blissful remission. In 2023, my PSA started to bounce back, and in January of this year, my urologist ordered a PSMA PET scan to determine if and where the cancer had spread. This is a test specifically for prostate cancer.

That comprehensive scan took hundreds of photographs of my insides and, glory be, found no spread of those toxic cells anywhere. In this topsy-turvy cancer world, I revel in news like this.

But, unfortunately, not everything was rosy.

That’s because the PSMA PET scan found something very concerning: A noticeable buildup of plaque in my cardiac arteries. I swung into action and consulted with a cardiologist. He ordered a nuclear stress test. You know, the kind where the technologists infuse you with a tracer, place lead wires all over your body, and take images of your heart at rest. Then, you walk on a treadmill for several minutes. This is followed by more imaging looking for signs of cardiac artery disease. 

I was in for a shock! 

That test in March of this year found that I had had a heart attack in the past. I never had the typical warning signs of a heart attack, and I certainly never thought that my ticker was going sideways on me.  Friends who had suffered one told me a “silent” heart attack is not all that uncommon.  But these findings were news to me!

Within days, my cardiologist ordered a catheterization and placed me in the capable hands of an interventional cardiologist. He found an 80% blockage in one of my arteries and placed a stent there. He also put me on a blood thinner and a baby aspirin, as well as a nitrate medication to mitigate any chest pain. 

I was completely relieved and began to sing the praises of PET scans. They are so comprehensive in the search for disease in our bones, organs, and lymph nodes since they detect changes on a cellular level.

So, you might ask, just how grateful am I to cancer for helping me to avoid a second heart attack?

Well, I’ll certainly never become BFFs with cancer since it can stab me in the back at any time. I mean, heck, my PSA continues to rise so fast that I likely will need yet another PSMA PET scan soon to determine the question of spread or no spread. Heart disease or no heart disease, cancer still has a grip on me.

What do I fear the most with my cancer now? Hearing the urologist say, “Mr. Cooper, we’ll need to come up with an advanced treatment plan for your cancer. It has spread to your bones and to your organs. It is very aggressive.”

Of course, that’s my scared-little-boy voice speaking when imagining the worst-case scenario. Really, anything goes now. Perhaps, my cancer may go haywire and spread throughout my body, foretelling excruciating bone pain, weight loss, and an agonizing death. 

After all, I’m acutely aware that prostate cancer is on target to take the lives of more than 35,000 American men this year, according to the American Cancer Society. It’s definitely not a walk in the park.

Then again, my cancer may take a little break, while I enjoy a respite from its deadly reach. I am not Jimmy the Greek, so I cannot lay odds on what might occur during this unpredictable time.

Who really knows!?

But what I can say is this:

“Dear cancer, we’ve been roommates now for a decade. I’ve tried to evict you, but you always find a way to stick around. You have made me miserable since the day I heard these startling words from my urologist, ‘Very sorry to say, Ron, but you have an aggressive cancer, and we have a lot of work to do.’ 

“But cancer, if not for you and the necessity for a PET scan, I never would’ve known that I had heart disease, and was at risk for a second heart attack. So, my good man, while I will fight you tooth and nail for the rest of my days, for now, I can truly say from the bottom of my heart:

“Thanks!"

Photo courtesy of author.