I began an unplanned medical journey two months ago. Consequently, I joined a men’s club, to which I had no intention of applying.
On April 30, I received a diagnosis of prostate cancer. By June 16, I underwent robotic-assisted surgery to remove my prostate. As I write this column, I am recovering well and quickly.
On June 24, I learned from my Hopkins Hospital doctor that the surgery successfully extracted all the cancer. I am cancer-free.
I thought long and hard about whether to share this information on a public stage like The Talbot Spy. I’m doing so because fortunately I suffered a form of cancer more common than I ever knew among men—and considered mostly curable.
My description so far betrays none of the fear and anxiety I felt—and obsessed about on a daily basis—beginning with the brief phone conversation with an Annapolis urologist, who told me the awful truth. The difficulty continued as I told family members and close friends. Even as I sat two weeks ago in the hectic pre-operation area, I worried about life after major surgery.
Cancer no longer was someone else’s problem.
As if studying for final exams in college, I read exhaustively about prostate cancer. I spoke with survivors, not only in Talbot County but throughout the country. I realized the membership of this club was larger than I ever imagined. While comforted to some extent by the survival rate, at least measured anecdotally, I could think of nothing else.
I learned that fighting cancer—or any other life-threatening disease—generates a level of self-absorption and self-centeredness that I typically abhor. I talked of little else. I felt distracted, prone to mistakes.
And I found out, as do others, I’m sure, the grace and comfort willingly offered by family and friends.
Despite the option of radiation, I chose surgery because it suited me personally; I simply wanted to rid myself of cancer as quickly and effectively as I could. Through a referral from an Easton doctor,
I found a physician at the renowned Johns Hopkins Hospital, well-experienced and well-respected in conducting robotic-assisted surgery. He not only was highly skilled, but just as importantly, a person with a nice human touch and incredible responsiveness to my questions and concerns.
I alluded to the inestimable value of support, both professional and friend/family-based. You expect the medical professionals to respond with expertise and compassion, and that generally happened. You lean on your family, and again I was the beneficiary of tremendous care and concern. My wife Liz was a great nurse and wonderful friend.
Everyone deals differently with personal calamity. I like to do personal research. And so I spoke with people to whom friends referred me, people whom I did not know, such as an attorney in Chicago and a real estate developer in Washington, DC; they unselfishly spent time explaining their experience with prostate cancer. Also, I constantly sought counsel and comfort from an Easton friend who had undergone prostate surgery in 1999 at Hopkins.
So, what do I do now that my two-month medical odyssey is over?
I will find another subject of conversation that excludes personal medical problems. I will continue retirement activities that have no connection to the medical system. Life as a patient is grueling.
And, finally, I will be ever thankful for a dose of good luck, renewal of good health and the ability to continue praying for those who endure life-threatening medical situations far more complex than early-detected prostate cancer.
Life looks brighter now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to laugh again.
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Charles Adler III says
Mr. Freedlander,
I am very happy to hear you are well.
I will say that I would have preferred your experience over mine within our local medical system. In simple, the inability to get an MRI after visits with our ER, primaries, radiologists with attitudes, and doctors with arrogance resulted in a life ruination.
My career path job was lost and it’s been me guiding doctors to get results that only through my persistence and frustration I was able to receive. Doctors do not listen to patients. After 2.5 years and an outstanding amount of frustration, down time, pile-on surges and physical therapy I’m finally able to go to the gym again and even better think again about something other than these remarkably poor diagnosticians, arrogant fools, and our medical system as a whole.
I still have not decided to file a lawsuit and interestingly enough, told that filing a claim or suit against Shore Health is a waste of time because no one wins in Talbot or Queen Anne’s Counties. I’ve spoken to 7 successful firms from DC, Baltimore, Easton, and Centreville where it all started.
This tells me one thing, the doctors are owned by insurance companies, feel protected by legal protection, and as a result carry a very
nonchalant attitude toward medical care.
If I had been the doctors, administrators, ER staff, I would have requested to sole MRI’s. Problem solved. But what I got was horse-hockey and I’m smart enough to know an x-ray doesn’t show soft tissue damage.
Being a smart guy, I attempted to help the system having identified the tragic care failures and was met with a “brush-off from our own Shore Health CEO Mr. Ken Kozel, whom I had to request a meeting using State Mediation to compel the conversation in hopes of an amicable resolution simply to make me whole again.
Needless to say, that was a complete waste of time.
2.5 years lost over a simple herniated disc MRI that resulted in not only back surgery and shoulder surgery, but 3 additional procedures due to the downtime.The compensatory amount of physical therapy needs to be noted as well. Nine months to get an MRI and an arrest for saying the wrong thing in immense pain to the hospital operator should be proof enough to say, “Houston.. We have a problem”
George Merrill says
Howdy
Thank you for your transparency. Your article will be comforting to many of us men of riper years who dread what those rising numbers can mean. Your candor makes us all more free and hopeful to deal with what seems at first so terrifying. Well done!
George Merrill
Anthony Duckery says
Mr. Freedlander,
Your story is absolutely heart touching indeed. I can foresee you helping others from this experience. The fact alone of your willingness to research this type of operation shows promise for those that know you, along with those that don’t know you, if one were to approached you with questions, if found in the exact same situation as you were. With your successful results, you are a shining light! Let it shine for others. Stay Strong Mr. Freedlander, and may God continue to bless you sir.