Conquering Relentless Regret

Conquering Relentless Regret: Ditch the ‘If Onlys’

MAY 5, 2017

BY RICK REDNER

IN COLUMNS, LIVING & LOVING WITH PROSTATE CANCER.

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This is reprinted with permission from Prostate Cancer News Today 

Regret involves a trip back in time to an action, an event, or a decision that had life-altering and unwanted consequences. Each of us has our share of regrets. How we think about our individual regrets will either condemn or redeem us. What I’m about to share was a regret that I allowed to torture me for years.

After my biopsy, there was a six-week waiting time to heal before my prostate surgery. I spent most of those six weeks wondering whether I was going to live long enough to see the beginning of a new year. I went on a prostate cancer forum and posed the following: “To Vacation or Not to Vacation, that is the question.” I considered taking time off from work in order to enjoy a romantic vacation with my wife.

A man wrote back suggesting that I’d be too anxious to enjoy my vacation. He suggested I postpone the romantic vacation until after my surgery. This made perfect sense, so I followed his advice.

The trip we took after my surgery was awful. I was suffering from urinary incontinence and erectile dysfunction. I was leaking urine so badly that I was changing my diaper 15 times a day. I was so depressed about the quality of my life, I spent the majority our “romantic vacation” wishing I’d died during surgery. I didn’t have a single romantic thought, or deed, occur during our entire time away.

I began experiencing a profound loss and regret that I missed the opportunity to enjoy a romantic vacation with my wife when all of my body parts were functioning properly. Those days were gone forever.

For the next four years, I kicked myself at least once a day, sometimes more. The phrase “if only” became my mantra. The phrase “if only” bound me to the past in a destructive way. There was no opportunity for a re-do. My sexlife as I knew it was gone, and it wasn’t coming back.

There was no way to redeem what I’d lost. I made a stupid, foolish, selfish, decision that I’d have to live with for the rest of my life. I tortured myself day after day, week after week, and year after year. This type of condemning and harsh look backward is the kind of unhealthy regret that can rob you of your capacity to enjoy life in the moment.

In the movie Oliver, a thief named Fagin sings a song entitled “Reviewing the Situation,” in which he reviews his life. Here are few verses from that song:

Can a fellow be a villain all his life?
All the trials and tribulations!
Better settle down and get myself a wife.

As the song goes on, he humorously reviews the consequences of his past, present and future decisions. Asking yourself healthy questions is the starting point to redeem your regret. In my situation, I asked myself what type of romantic trips, experiences and memories do I want to create now.

I came to realize that now is the only time we can redeem our “if onlys.” Getting stuck in the past, or wishing for a different future, is a total waste of time and energy.

My wife and I created many positive romantic memories before and after my penile implant surgery. Today I’m living without regrets; so can you.

If you’ve conquered one of your “if onlys” please share how you did it.

The Futility of Worrying About Cancer

APRIL 28, 2017 

BY RICK REDNER

IN COLUMNS, LIVING & LOVING WITH PROSTATE CANCER.

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This is reprinted with the permission of Prostate Cancer News Today 

This was my sixth year of post-surgery PSA testing. Usually I take the test and have no problem waiting for my test results. For the past five years it was a peaceful, easy time. And for five years, my test results showed undetectable levels of PSA.

For the first time since I was diagnosed with prostate cancer, I experienced an unwelcome encounter with resistance this year. I wanted to skip my PSA test. There was no rational reason for my strong desire to throw out my lab slip and let a year or more go by before taking an ultra-sensitive PSA test.

I suspect my resistance reflected my desire to return to my pre-cancer life. I wanted to pretend there was no reason to live under the cloud of possible relapse. I discussed my resistance with my wife and the men who follow me on Facebook. It didn’t take me long to realize that nothing good would come from skipping my yearly PSA test. So last week I took my lab slip and had my blood drawn.

After the test, as I was walking to my car, I had an unwelcome encounter with worry. Here was the conversation:

Worry: Over the years you’ve celebrated your undetectable PSA lab results, but there’s really nothing to celebrate.
Me: Why is that?
Worry: Your PSA test is a look back, not forward. All you’ll know is that your PSA was undetectable in 2016 and the first quarter of 2017. There’s plenty of time for your PSA to rise in 2017. So skip the celebrating, the joy, and the relief. You’ve got three-quarters of 2017 to worry about.
Me: I don’t like the way you think. I’ve got to find a different way of looking at my situation.

The most intelligent discourse I’ve read about worry comes from Jesus, who said in Matthew 6:25-26:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

I asked myself two important questions. The first was: Who do I want to believe about worrying,  my worrying self, or Jesus? The second question was: What good would worry do for me, other than make me miserable? After answering these questions, I decided I needed to take a different tack.

I’m going to celebrate no matter what my results show. If my PSA is undetectable, I’ll celebrate another year without the return of prostate cancer. If my PSA rises to a level that suggests the cancer has returned, I’ll celebrate the fact that I live in an era where early detection and treatment is available.

If you habitually worry, you become a time traveler. You leave your present-day reality to travel into the future, where your worst fears are realized. I’ve spent too much time living as a time traveler.

I’m glad I decided to wait for my test results with a willingness to celebrate whatever they are. In fact, I’m going on a vacation as I wait for the results. In the past, I would have postponed my vacation until I received them. I’ve learned it’s never too late to change the way you think as you cope with being a cancer survivor.

If worry is a constant companion, or you’ve found ways to defeat worry, I’d like to hear from you.

***

The Strength Faith Provides When Coping With Cancer

This is a great article about the role of faith while coping with cancer. For Tony Snow this was not a theoretical discussion. He died from colon cancer on July 12 2008.

He wrote:

"Those of us with potentially fatal diseases—and there are millions in America today—find ourselves in the odd position of coping with our mortality while trying to fathom God's will."

Reading this can change your perspective when you are facing a life threatening disease.

The Blessing of Cancer

The Emotional Impact of Urinary Incontinence After a Prostatectomy

The loss of urinary control following prostate surgery involves more than learning how to live in diapers. Few men are given adequate warning or preparation regarding the emotional aspects of coping with urinary incontinence. Here are a few of the unpleasant and life-changing feelings I experienced during my three months of living in diapers:

Embarrassment, by definition is an emotional state of intense discomfort with oneself, experienced when having a socially unacceptable act or condition witnessed by or revealed to others.

I was embarrassed in the presence of other people. Knowing that I was wearing a diaper was enough to make me feel different. When it was necessary for me to change my diaper in a public restroom, I wouldn’t come out of the stall until the restroom was empty. I didn’t want anyone to see me holding or throwing away my urine-filled diaper.

Shame is the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, ridiculous, etc., done by oneself or another.

Leaking through my diaper in public places was one of the most painful and humiliating events I’ve experienced in my lifetime. For one month I refused to leave home, or see any friends. I isolated myself from the world.

Regression  is the psychological sense of a return to an earlier stage of life.

This isn’t a feeling, but a state of mind. I felt like a big baby in diapers. I looked at myself with contempt. The idea of being affectionate with my wife, engaging in sex, or acting in manly ways completely vanished.

Disgusted is feeling extreme dislike or disapproval of something.

I hated leaking urine all the time. I was like a spigot that wouldn’t turn off. I hated myself and I hated my life. The only place I felt comfortable was in the shower. It was the only place where I could relax, feel refreshed, and take a break from all the negative feelings I had about leaking urine.

Depressed is a serious condition in which a person feels very sad, hopeless, and unimportant, and often is unable to live in a normal way.

As I looked to the future, I imagined I living in diapers for an endless period of time. I hated the quality of my life. I felt sorry that I treated my prostate cancer with surgery. I wished I had died on the operating table.

Don’t be surprised by the many negative feelings you may experience when you lose urinary control. My wife said something to me that radically changed my perspective. She invited me to think of myself as a warrior in battle against cancer. Living in diapers was a battle scar. By thinking of myself as a warrior, I was no longer dealing with regression. I was a man coping with a man's disease. I learned the necessary skills to manage in diapers.

Few men are told that losing urinary control is an emotionally challenging event. Now you know!

This blog was originally posted at Prostate Cancer News Today.

Rick Redner and his wife Brenda Redner wrote an award winning comprehensive guide to the physical, personal, spiritual, and relational issues, every man, and couple, will face before and after prostate surgery. The title of their book is:

I Left My Prostate in San Francisco-Where's Yours? 

After four years of coping with erectile dysfunction after double nerve sparing surgery,  Rick & Brenda decided to share their experiences with devastating effects of erectile dysfunction; which led to a loss of self-esteem, and marital conflict. They shared why they chose to seek professional help to save their marriage. They also provided a detailed account of how and why Rick went the penile implant route, and how that changed everything. This is a life changing book. Don’t take their word for it, read the Amazon reviews.

The title of their second book is:

Everything You Never Wanted to Know About Erectile Dysfunction 

Base Your Prostate Cancer Treatment on Your Diagnosis NOT Your Fears

The following article appeared in Prostate Cancer News Today on 11/18/2016 on this link:
The Toughest Decision You'll Ever Make

I’ll never forget the question my urologist asked me during my appointment to discuss treatment options: “How would you like to treat your prostate cancer?”

I thought he was joking. I had a palpable lump, 4+3 Gleason score, and a potentially life-threatening disease. How could he expect me to come up with an intelligent answer about treating a disease I knew next to nothing about?

I can’t think of another illness, injury, or disease where I’ve been asked to decide the course of treatment. The only thing I knew at that time was I wanted to treat my prostate cancer aggressively.

I thought back to the dozen books I’d checked out from the library. The easiest form of treatment I could remember was brachytherapy. This option appealed to me because it would require only treatment and there wasn’t much down time. My primary objective was finding an aggressive treatment that was, first and foremost, convenient for me.

I was startled when my urologist ruled out my decision. He said that based on my urological history, I would not do well with brachytherapy. I’d just used up all the knowledge I’d accumulated. I had nothing else to offer. I knew he did, so I searched for a way to get him to tell me what I wanted to know.

The Answer

I formulated a question to get the answer I needed to hear. I asked, “If you had my urological history, a palpable lump, and a Gleason score of 4+3, how would you treat your prostate cancer?” Without hesitation he said, “I’d go for surgery.” I had my answer. I said, “That’s exactly what I want to do. I want surgery.”

The Warning

He gave me a serious, life-altering warning. “Given your urological history there’s a high probability you’ll never regain urinary control,” he told me. Under normal circumstances I’d never forget a life-changing warning like that, but given the anxiety and fear I was coping with, I’d forgotten his warning by the time I left his office.

The warning came back to me two weeks after my surgery and after spending my first day in diapers. By the end of that day, I passionately hated living in diapers. The possibility of living this way the rest of my life caused more grief than prostate cancer. I wondered if I’d made the worst mistake of my life in the way I decided to treat my prostate cancer.

Removing fear from the decision

• Don’t rush into treatment. Take time to investigate the effectiveness and quality of life issues of each treatment option.
• Talk to men who are further along in the journey with the treatment choice your are considering.
• If you base your treatment option on your fears about cancer, the odds are high you’ll suffer some unnecessary and permanent quality of life issues.
• Base your treatment decision on your diagnosis rather than your fears.

This is by far the most challenging task you’ll face as you consider your treatment options.

How & Where do You Want to Receive Your Biopsy Results?

This blog appeared on Prostate Cancer News Today on 10/24/16 on this link:
Receiving Your Biopsy Results

In my previous column, I talked about the first phase after a biopsy — the waiting. Here, I’m looking at phase two, which begins the day you receive your results.

In a study titled Disclosing a Diagnosis of Cancer: Where and How Does It Occur?, researchers reported on a survey given to hundreds of cancer patients being treated at a National Cancer Institute center in Maryland. Their findings:  “Of  the 437 patients who completed the survey, 54% were told their diagnosis in-person in the physician’s office, 18% by phone, and 28% in the hospital. Forty-four percent of patients reported discussions of 10 minutes or fewer, 53% reported discussions lasting longer than 10 minutes, and 5% could not remember … Higher mean satisfaction scores were associated with diagnoses revealed in person rather than over the phone.”

I wanted some influence as to where and how I’d receive my biopsy results.   

The Where — I did not want to receive the news in my doctor’s office. Part of that decision involved my not wanting to drive 30 miles home if the news confirmed my suspicion of having prostate cancer. I wanted to hear the news in the safety and security of my home.

I’m in the minority. Most people prefer to be told their results in their doctor’s office.

The How — After the biopsy procedure, I asked my doctor if he’d call me with the results. He agreed to do this. I anticipated that I’d get about 10 minutes of his time.

To use that time efficiently, I decided to prepare a list of questions in advance. As it turns out, my list contained one question: I wanted to know my Gleason score.

The Call — My phone rang at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. In my life, early morning phone calls usually involve an emergency or bad news.

It was my urologist. I was struck by his tone of voice when he asked, “Am I speaking to Richard Redner?” I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he was about to tell me I had prostate cancer.

My wife, Brenda, was sleeping at the time. I ran upstairs, woke her up, and told her I was speaking to my urologist about my biopsy results. I put the phone on speaker and told him I was ready.

He said, “I regret to inform you that you have prostate cancer.” He didn’t say this, but I imagined I heard it loud and clear: “You’ll be dead within a year.”  I asked my only question. “What are my Gleason scores?” He said three cores were 4+3, the others were 3+3. I was confused. I thought all cores would have the same score, so I asked him “What does this mean?” He said, “You have a moderately aggressive cancer.” My filter deleted the word “moderately.”

My Suggestions:

• Ask your doctor if treatment options are discussed on the same day you receive your biopsy results, or whether that will require another appointment.                                                                                                                                             • Bring your partner, a friend, or family member to the meeting, rather than receive the news alone.
• Decide how, when, and where you want to receive your biopsy results. Write a list of questions you’d like answered.
• Take notes or record your Gleason score, and all the answers to your list of questions. You’d be surprised how much you’ll forget.

Waiting for Biopsy Results is the Pits

This blog appeared on 10/14/16 on Prostate Cancer News Today:
How to Wait For Biopsy Results

After your biopsy, it can take anywhere from one to three weeks to receive your results. For many men (I’m in this group), waiting for your biopsy will be a highly stressful time. For me, each passing day of waiting was more miserable and stressful than the next. I don’t wait well. In the express lane in the grocery store, I’ll count how many items are in the carts of people in front of me. To the everlasting embarrassment of my wife and children, using a loud voice I might say: “Doesn’t the express lane have a 15 item limit?” There’s no doubt in my mind, if I had to drive to face a firing squad, I’d be in the left lane passing everyone I could. How I waited for my biopsy results taught me a few valuable lessons I’ll share with you.

Online, I found this definition of the word wait: “To remain inactive until something expected happens.”

I divide the waiting period into two phases. Phase one is the time you spend with no information about your biopsy results. Phase two is the day you receive your results. Here are some of the things I did in phase one.

I knew absolutely nothing about prostate cancer, so I went to our public library. I checked out a dozen books. I wasn’t reading to obtain facts about prostate cancer. I focused my attention on the worst information I could find. I ignored and dismissed the fact that “Nearly 100 percent of men diagnosed with prostate cancer while the cancer is in early stages are still alive five years after diagnosis.” I locked into the fact that “prostate cancer is the second-leading cause of male cancer-related death in the U.S.” I was selectively filtering the information I was reading in order to prove to myself that a diagnosis of prostate cancer is a death sentence.

The more frightened I became, the more I relied on mood-altering behaviors to help me cope. Examples of mood-altering behaviors are using drugs, alcohol, TV, computer games — anything that removes you from reality to avoid experiencing reality is a mood-altering behavior.

I used food. As I ate more, I gained weight. As I spent too many hours in front of the TV, I distanced myself from my friends, family, and my wife. I set myself up to experience isolation at a time when I needed lots of support.

If I had a do-over, I would:

• Read a lot less
• Spend more time with my family
• Take my wife on a weekend or week-long romantic vacation
• Spend a lot less time in front of the TV
• Exercise regularly
• Eat less junk food
• Find people further along in the journey to talk with both in person and online
• Listen to my wife’s fears and concerns
• Rely more on my faith and spend more time in prayer

Which (if any) of these suggestions appeal to you and/or your partner in your time of waiting for your biopsy results?