Whatever it takes

I've said a couple of times that despite my own squeamish nature, some of the posts in this blog are a little - well - grizzly - to say the least.

I suppose that you get a little blase about what happens to you as everyone else who has this also has these treatments and tests and challenging moments.

I remember talking to my brother and hearing him go very quiet at the end of the phone and my Mother also seeing her quite horrified by what I'd be telling her. I wouldn't tell my Dad as he would pass out :-) He and I share the same hate of anything medical!

So an apology that this blog is quite graphical in that respect and back to the title.

I was just feeling very sorry for my bladder, my prostate and my wedding tackle! My bladder has been scrapped and scratched and had cancer, followed by having to heal it self from all the scars and scabs and then - what did they do? They instilled chemicals into the bladder that are highly toxic and just when it recovers from that they take some more cuts and stick some more of this BCG in as well. It is a bit of a "Sledgehammer" and I think my Doctor called it brutal and rough.

Then every time they have inserted anything into me my Prostate has had to take a pounding and frankly because of the peculiar way the urethra is configured the insertion of anything tends to straighten that out and it needs to go back to where it originally was set.

So all in all - it feels like getting kicked in the crotch many times a year. Perhaps if all is OK it will have been worth it? I would hate to have gone through all of this just to find that you were back to square one. Some people do of course.

Given all of that - to be better you do have to do "whatever it takes"