Prostatus Quo

With the prostate surgery now behind me, so to speak, I can report on a few things. It’s too soon to tell how it all will play out, but there are a few immediate effects I can describe.

First, I don’t know if there’s actually such a thing as phantom prostate pain, but I’ve got it.

Second, the human body is amazing. Never take things for granted. Even the simplest bodily functions can become … well, not so simple.

Third, food is wonderful. There’s such an incredible variety of delightful flavors and textures advertised everywhere. I’m really looking forward to being able to have some.

Finally, one completely unanticipated side effect is a penchant for watching old rom-coms on TV. Luckily, doctors assure me this will pass. (The Pick-up Artist is an underrated gem … lots of future stars in smaller roles.)

Charity Ends At Home

Philanthropy is a wonderful thing. People donate money, time, even parts of their own bodies. After all, as Spock said, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” That was Mr. Spock, by the way. Dr. Spock said, “You know more than you think you do.” (I could think of a number of exceptions to this, but that’s for another time.)

So I’ve decided to become an organ donor. Specifically, I’m donating my slightly used prostate to science. I couldn’t find anyone who would pay for it, but perhaps I can take a tax deduction. In fact, if I estimate the value of the prostate by what the hospital’s charging to remove it, I could do alright.

And as it turns out, I work for a company that sells software to hospitals, so maybe I can close a deal or two while I’m on the table. I mean, I’m going to be there anyway, right?

I tell you all this by way of explanation. There may be a brief interruption in the activity of this blog. In that event, should you become desperate, we invite you to peruse the best (and worst) of The Tech Curmudgeon at http://www.techcurmudgeon.com ... something to offend everyone.

Death Rays or Knife-Wielding Robots

We are truly living in the world of science fiction. Sure we don’t have flying cars or nutritionally sound meal-in-a-pill capsules yet, but in many ways, we’re the Jetsons. (Remember, when that show was created in the 1960’s, “jet” still sounded like pretty advanced technology.)

One way I know this is by the choices I have for treatment of my prostate cancer: knife-wielding robots or death rays. Of course, health care professionals refer to these choices as surgery and radiation, but let’s not mince words.

The surgery is often done robotically. The doctor sits at a console and basically plays a 3D video game version of the old board game Operation. The doctor’s movements control mechanical arms with little clamps, scalpels, etc. on the ends, to pull the little plastic prostate piece out of its little plastic well, hopefully without triggering the buzzer and making the patient's nose light up.

The radiation, on the other hand, can be controlled by computer models of the prostate, or by 3D imaging, to completely fry the prostate while barely putting the surrounding tissue on defrost.

Note that the computers haven’t completely taken over yet. All of these procedures are overseen and controlled by highly qualified medical personnel who, hopefully unlike the cast of Gray’s Anatomy, spent their medical school and internship years learning and acquiring skills instead of rutting like rabbits.

So now it’s up to me to choose … robots or rays.