So, let me paint a picture for you (SPOILER ALERT: For those of you who don't want to read a detailed description of me sitting on a donut in my underwear, you may want to skip the introductories and go to directly to paragraph two. Wait! Better make that paragraph three, I'm sure the trip will be circuitous, if not fun...  See, now, I'm trying to have fun, and already this is not going well.  My computer has the temerity to admonish me with 'Teachers' Red ink. Word (thank you very much) has underlined two words and the red lines are just bugging the heck out of me.  I know, Word.  I know. Listen, I made up 'introductories', so sue me. And everybody writes 'donuts' not doughnuts, I mean, sheesh.  Oh, crap, now three words underlined.

Sigh. Okay. Fresh start so my computer and I can get our feces in one container, as one of my employees once suggested I do...  Good suggestion, actually. Okay. Focus. Let's go...



So, this is my first cancer-free blog post (early pathology reports are excellent, but I have one last PSA test to pass on July 10, then I can be pronounced officially 'prostate cancer free.'  I'll gladly accept that new handle... I'm sitting in the living room of the most awesome place I've ever lived.  I'm listening to music, sitting on the aforementioned donut, wearing nothing but my underwear (plus my 'pad' - more on that later...) and my watch.  [Insert official segue music here:  Stella loves my watch. She always has. She pays less attention to it now, because there is a whole 'nother world out there for two year-olds. She was at a party at my house recently, and she wandered into the bedroom and rummaged through the items in there, and found the watch.  Always the watch.  Funny thing about the watch. It was purchased for me by my parents for my 50th birthday.  It bears the logo of my high school mascot, and it's my everyday watch.  Okay, all my other watches need batteries, so technically, this is my only watch.  The thing is, it was gifted to me with love by Stella's great-grandparents, and, in time, that love and all mine will accompany the watch to Stella...  Okay, while we are talking about Stella, I just have to say, MY PEANUT, I LUFF HER.  April, you are the best!!!!  Love and strength to you, my kick-ass daughter!]

So, let's get this party started.  I have so much to tell you. It is going to take me a considerable amount of time.  Hey, hey, stop complaining!  Reeses peanut butter cups were not built in a day!  Wait, that's not the saying, is it? Freakin munchies.  Oh, well.

This will be the first blog entry dealing with the surgical prep and process, as well as the recovery to date.  Make no mistake: I'm three weeks out post-surgery, I know I have a lot of healing to do yet, and I'm (mostly) following doctor's orders and taking it easy. I will talk about the unfortunate consequences of being 'mostly' compliant, instead of, oh, I don't know, compliant?

(I wish that my girlfriend, Charley, was co-writing this with me tonight, because during large parts of this process, I was asleep, under anesthesia, otherwise medicated, or just not attentive enough to truly appreciate the chaos that was my surgery and recovery.  For example, my 11th hour melt-down just moments before they wheeled me into surgery, and my insistence that "I was not going to have this operation right now'" and Charley saying, "Fine, let's go home."  Yeah, oh, yeah.  Good stuff for a writer, but not for a patient?... Thanks, Charley, for ALWAYS calling bullshit on me when it was called for.)

Well, folks, if I can't find the sweet spot to sit in on this donut soon, this entry may be over before it starts. Yes, I know, I already started, including spelling donut 'wrong' about 7 times now!  But seriously, this is but mere foreplay.  Oooh, did I just write that? I kind of like that...

I moved to the bed and I'm now in the supine position.  My Santa Monica High School 2011 yearbook is crushing my balls so that I can use it (my book, not my balls) for a place to rest the laptop.

Okay, this sucks too.  To the desk.  Let's see what happens.  Preparation H, too.  We can do this!

Wait.  Maybe the bed will work.  Let's give it a minute. Okay, no.  That was 4.6 seconds.  A minute ain't gonna happen - unless of course, I continue to typ

Moved to the desk, with the donut on the desk chair.  Not sold on it. Crap.

Well, now you know why I haven't posted since before surgery.

Before I go, let me just leave this caution behind for anyone having surgery: Make sure you eat properly and don't overdo it within the first few weeks of surgery. I did, and my body was like, "Dude, we gotta slow this guy down!" "Yeah, I know... What we got?"  "Cold?" "Nah." "Flu?" "Pfft!"  "I got it! Hemorrhoids. Hemorrhoids are terrible, and this poor bastard doesn't even know how to spell hemrroids."  "Frank, you're an evil genius.  Hemorrhoids.  Eeek."

Yup, so the biggest setback in my recovery is a nice bout of anal itching and soreness.  My nurse practitioner put me immediately on bed rest.  This sucked, since I was walking about two miles a day at that point, but...  My body, as you can tell from that scintillating dialog in the preceding paragraph. was trying to tell me something.

So, here I am.  Back in bed, physically feeling pretty damn good, mentally off the charts happy, and spiritually in a good place, too.  This process has reinforced my beliefs in karma and positive energy. Spending time with like-minded people has been a blessing, too, along with the thoughts prayers, and energy from my friends and family.  THANK YOU, ALL.  (Special shout-out to Paul, Kevin, DJ, Zach, and Liz.)  My son, Kenny, coming in from NY was awesome, and spending time with my peanut is always a gas. Then there's Charley. Just thank you.

I feel my old energy returning since my hormone depletion therapy shot has now worn off, and my body is once again producing testosterone.  The hormone treatment was definitely the worst part of the process to date - perhaps even worse than the anal thing (Sorry, I'm tired of misspelling h-e-m you know...)

So, in conclusion, I'm tired, uncomfortable, and heading to bed.

I'll get back to you soon with more.

Tonight's affirmation is fresh from my dear friend, Victoria:

"Every day, and in every way, I am getting better and better!"

I am.