Blurred Vision - Life Inside The Sand Castle by L. Martin Moss - HTML preview

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Chapter NINE

Dolly & Placido

December 1991.

The ͞Fickle Finger of Fat award   another reference to Laugh-In    was presented to me by Dr. Robert J. Rotering, M.D., the new McDonnell Douglas Services Medical Director ͞I need to do another probe Les I felt something there and I want to make sure    Thus saith the good doctor at the conclusion of my annual physical at the McDonnell Douglas Services medical clinic on the ROC compound in Riyadh. I bent over the examining table again, not yet comprehending the fact that I might have the ͞Big c.

Fast forward two months. After being medically evacuated back to St. Louis, I was examined, and six needle biopsies, or punches, were performed. I remember the male nurse saying ͞Relax breathe deep and let it out … relax this won t hurt a bit  Ouch! Times six Each one worse than the last because I couldn t relax and because I knew what was coming.

After a few days I received a phone call from my oncologist, Dr. Elspeth McDougall who informed me that the results showed that two of the six biopsies were positive.

Sandy and I listened as Dr. McDougall gave us the following three options:

1.  Not doing anything, just keeping track of the growth.

2.  Taking chemotherapy and radiation treatments, losing my hair, throwing up, being sick for weeks.

or waiting behind Door Number

3.  Prostrate removal.

Here I was a 50-year old with prostate cancer I couldn t believe it I didn t smoke didn t drink alcohol ate a normal diet exercised wasn t overweight and I had it.

I was hospitalized within the week and the cancerous prostate was removed at Barnes-Jewish-West Hospital. Two days later I was told that if I wanted to leave in a few more days, I had to get out of bed three or four times a day and walk. Get the body functions back to normal. I tried, with the aid of a wheeled pole carrying my IV and the urine bag strapped to my left leg above the knee. I hope they do things differently now than they did in January of 1992. I remember being awakened in the early hours of the second night and the nurse ripping the bandage off from over my eight inch scar from my groin north. No preparation at all. ͞Hi Mr Moss I m here to remove your bandage then rrrripJ God did that hurt! Then to make matters worse, she began pulling one of the two drainage tubes out, again without any verbal preparation. She said they both had to be removed before my body took over and latched onto the tubes permanently. After she had pulled out the first tube I told her I would pull out the other one, and I did.

I had visito