Author Ian Newbegin's life changed when he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, but with optimism, he has created a way of life that allowed him to not just survive but thrive. Men Don't Talk About . . . chronicles his journey from fear to acceptance and ultimately survival. His story is one designed to encourage men to visit their doctors more frequently, particularly when they suffer from any urinary complications-one of the early signs of a potential problem. He explores his experiences with both prostate cancer and the resulting depression through candid insight. From a patient's viewpoint, he provides simple explanations about each disease. Knowledge is power for anyone facing cancer (or any other chronic or acute condition), and he shares his research and experiences to help others. His story is one intended to demystify the diseases. He reminds the reader that there is no stigma involved with either disease, and encourages them to take control of their own care. His message is simple: If he can survive the ordeal of having cancer, so can you. You can increase your chances by having regular medical checkups. You're worth it.

MEN Don't Talk About ...

Cancer of the Prostate and DepressionBy IAN NEWBEGIN

BALBOA PRESS

Copyright © 2011 Ian Newbegin
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4525-0267-0

Contents

Introduction.................................ixEarly Thinking...............................1Finding Out..................................9My Choice....................................28Prostate Removal.............................30Post-Operative Meetings......................41Now That It's Over...........................53Technical Talk...............................66Final Words..................................78Advice Summary...............................80Depression...................................81History of Depression........................95The Depression Mechanism.....................102Ron D Suffered Deeply........................121Support Groups...............................123Concluding Remark............................125I'm too Old for This.........................127

Chapter One

Early Thinking * * *

A Child's View of Disease

Our perception of what can simply be called disease begins at childhood, and if the child's perception is incorrect, it can prevent us from taking the appropriate corrective action later in life and all because of a long-held, misguided belief. Consider the following scenario.

Way back in the fifties when I was a young child in grade five, a boy was hit by a cricket ball on the knee whilst fielding the ball. By the end of the year, the young lad was dead—from cancer. Whether or not the ball incident caused the growth of cancer is beside the point. Being young, most of the students at the school associated the hit on the knee by the ball with the cancer, and we were all very careful how we chased or gathered a ball in the future. I was affected so much by this incident that I avoided playing cricket, particularly if a hard ball was used. It was indeed a strange belief, but after all, the boy was ill after the incident and later died.

Many adults believe that a hit on the body (the location changes with the individual) can cause cancer. There is no evidence to support this odd belief, but nevertheless I, like my unknown allies, held on to the myth just in case.

Again, when I was young, I had developed a strange image of what cancer looked like. I had never heard of the disease, except that a fellow student had died from it. This gave me free rein to use my imagination to gain a specific belief about the disease. For me, cancer was an invasive disease which spread like a spider web throughout the body. Its colour was black, and I imagined a black web-like substance spreading throughout the body. Was there any pain? I don't know! I knew very little about cancer other than the fact that it could spread throughout the body and, more often than not, resulted in death. I had never known anyone with cancer, nor had my friends known anyone with the disease other than the child at school; however, we students weren't privy to any information about the boy's health prior to his death, other than the fact that he died from cancer, and this we attributed to the hit on the knee.

A childhood friend of mine had a strong fear of dying from cancer well into adulthood. He believed that cancer caused the body to melt away to nothing, leaving a living mass which needed constant care. I can't imagine what he saw in his mind's eye; he hadn't seen anyone with cancer during his childhood, though he also knew of the young lad who had been hit with the cricket ball. Though I don't know what his belief is today—we lost contact with each other—I daresay it has been corrected, but I bet his fear would still be based on old images of the disease.

An unfortunate fact about the child's death is that I can't remember his name, nor can I remember what he looked like. He was soon forgotten by the school population, but we did not forget the incident. Hard knocks can cause cancer, or so I believed.

What was your childhood belief about cancer? Was it as fanciful as my belief or that of my friend? Does it affect the way you think about cancer today?

When we were young, nothing seemed to worry us. We took risks and held dearly to the belief "it won't happen to me." How many "bronzed" bodies do you see during summertime? How often is it reported that skin cancer is a leading cause of death for people of all ages? Yet, many people continue to take risks through long exposure to the sun or under a UV light so that they get the perfect suntan. Obviously, the perfect tan can only be achieved if we sit in the sun or lie near naked under a solarium. There's no risk, right? Well, is there? Do I hear, "Nah, it won't happen to me"?

Here's another strange belief from my childhood. I remember when I had my tonsils removed as a young child. I was excited about going to the children's hospital, and after the procedure, I lay in bed feeling sore and sorry for myself. Before the operation, there was a bed at the head of the ward with a sick child in it. I thought that he was "king of the kids" because of the position of his bed, which looked down the ward. After I woke from the horrible chloroform (thank God for the new anaesthetics) and looked over at the bed, it was empty. I thought the boy had died! When my mother came to take me home, I was morbid. Mum had to get a nurse to explain to me that the boy had been allowed to go home. Again, how many kids develop strange beliefs about hospitals and disease? It's important to sit with your child to give him or her reassurance and to answer questions about his or her belief. Hospitals are not places of death; many lives are saved in a hospital, so why commit to this fear? Why let your child fear such institutions?

Visit a children's hospital and study the number of kids dying from cancer. These children neither asked to get cancer nor deserved to get it, but the hand of fate works in mean ways. Imagine how you would feel if a child of yours had cancer! You'd be very upset, of that I have no doubt. How would you feel seeing your child suffering from chemotherapy, losing his or her hair, and suffering the pain of the procedure? You'd put on a brave face and treasure every moment with your child, wouldn't you?

What about yourself? Do you harbour an irrational belief about cancer? Does it involve a shortening of your life? Do you hold a morbid image of yourself dying in hospital?

Doesn't your family deserve to have you around for a long time? If you are the person suffering from an illness, whether cancer or not, it doesn't matter, and if the illness is life threatening, how would your family feel seeing you in hospital? Would you continue to put on a brave face?

I know I'm asking a lot of questions and am not answering them, but I hope that you are. Understand what I am saying and what I am asking. Don't pay lip-service to what is written in this document. You are loved by your family, and they deserve to be able to support you.

Every day we take risks in life and in our jobs. The risks may be small, but risk we do. Without risk, our choices are limited and opportunities may be missed, but why do most males take risks with their health by avoiding a medical check? Could it be related to the risks we take in life and that we fear the possible consequence—failure—or is it simply the macho thing to do to not have a medical evaluation? Don't you owe it to your family to have a...