No one prepared me for just how much love I would have for my child.

As foreshadowed in last weeks Blog, I had my first appointment this week with the third and final branch of Specialists that deal with Prostate Cancer, The Oncologist.

My expectation was that the Specialist would either recommend that I commence Chemotherapy immediately or tell me to go home and type faster on my Blog to ensure that I said everything that I wanted to say as quickly as possible. The truth is, the Specialist didn’t advocate for either course of action. Rather he pointed out the complications of undergoing an intensive course of Chemo and suggested I go home and think about the side effects before making any decision on going forward with a Chemotherapy plan.

From the time of my first elevated PSA reading I’ve tried to keep myself apprised of what my future was likely to involve. I know a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing and that the Medical Fraternity must absolutely hate dealing with patients who self diagnose using Google but in my case, utilizing the Internet has helped me avoid a couple of delays that would otherwise have occurred in my treatment. Being able to give Informed Consent to commence Chemotherapy immediately was another example of my “little bit of knowledge” helping to expedite my therapy.

The Radiologist had indicated that my Chemotherapy treatment would involve 3 sessions over a 9 week period. She was half right. I am booked in for 6 sessions of 90 minutes duration over an eighteen week time span. The Drug of choice for my type of Cancer is Docetaxel. It’s been used in Prostate Cancer patients since 2004 which surprised me a little. I would have thought new therapies should have been approved and adopted over the past 20 years but apparently not.

An extensive International peer reviewed study funded by Prostate Cancer UK in 2019 confirmed that Men with large prostate tumors who also have secondary tumors, were almost three times as likely to be alive after five years when given Docetaxel Chemotherapy alongside Hormone Therapy as those only receiving Hormone Therapy. Given that I’d like to stick around as long as possible, going with the 18 weeks of Chemo was a bit of a no-brainer. Be interesting to see if I’m still singing from the same hymn sheet when the expected side effects kick in🤔.

The Specialist explained that each treatment of the Docetaxel will basically kick the shit out of me and just when I’m starting to feel a bit “normal” I’ll cop another dose to knock me on my arse again. Eighteen weeks of that is far from appealing but I’ll give it a crack. The list of potential side effects takes as long to read as War And Peace so I won’t bore you with reproducing them here but the important thing is that I should have my first infusion within two weeks.🤞

Now for a bit of reminiscing and Family History. On June 27th, 1978 Robyn gave birth to our son John. Nothing can prepare you for what it’s like to be a Father. When I called Mum and Dad on the Hospital phone (no mobiles in those days) to let them know Robyn and baby were both well and that he would be named after both his Grandfathers, I was overwhelmed with emotion and wept uncontrollably. Funnily enough the next 44 years have involved plenty more tears – sometimes crying with elation and sometimes crying with frustration!😄

John Stanley Edwards always liked being the centre of attention. At Kindergarten he threw a tantrum when he was cast as a sheep in the Christmas Nativity Play. He had aspirations of playing Joseph but at the very least he thought he should have been a Wiseman or a Shepard but a sheep? Seriously! We thought throwing himself on the floor crying was a bit of an overreaction but he was what he was.

At Primary School he remained all about the look and when we interrupted his Melton Primary education to head off to the USA on an extended holiday, he had one item on his wish list: a pair of the most expensive sneakers Nike had produced to that time, the Bo Jacksons. As usual, he got his way and I swear, if he was still a size 6 instead of a size 13, those runners would remain on his feet today. He wore them when he went out, he wore them to bed and he would have worn them in the shower if Robyn had let him. It was a day of mourning when he could no longer squeeze his feet into them and I think he gave them a Viking burial at the Melton Lake.

Growing up, John delighted in smashing his sister at Monopoly. He fancied himself as a Real Estate Mogul and turned what should have been a friendly board game into a full body contact sport. No matter how hard she tried, Megan just couldn’t get the better of him. With hindsight, I suspect John kept a secret stash of $500 bills under his side of the Board which undoubtedly contributed to his undefeated record but one day Megan and I went into partnership in an effort to bring his reign as Edwards Monopoly Champion to an end. I’m not sure whether it was by good luck or good management but on this occasion it was John turning the board over in anger instead of the usual culprit (Megan). To this day, Megan has never given John a rematch and much to John’s disgust, she remains the Edwards Family Monopoly Champion into perpetuity.🏨

John has always fancied himself as a Chef but as with most things in his life, if a little of something was good, a lot of something was much better. After one of his Home Economics Classes he decided to reproduce a pasta dish he’d cooked that afternoon for his family as a treat for his Mum. The recipe called for a teaspoon of Garlic but if a teaspoon of garlic is good, a jar of garlic is obviously a lot better. Apart from being completely inedible, the stink of his pasta dish remained in that kitchen until we moved out and may have meant we lost a good portion of our Bond when we vacated that rental property later that year.😄

When he was 17 John played a really important role in Essendon’s Division One Premiership victory over Upwey. I remember giving everyone on the Team my usual advise that I give to those who’ve won a Flag – don’t get that drunk that you forget what a great night you’ve had, and as usual, my advice was completely ignored by all and sundry. We entrusted cousin Brendan with the role of chaperoning John that night and talk about the blind leading the blind, and I use the term “blind” advisedly – by 8pm they were both completely out of control! The next morning John had to pitch for Kurunjang College in a Schoolboys Baseball Championship and somehow the Melton boys got the prize over their more fancied opponents. He didn’t let the booze beat him!

For his 18th Birthday, John had a party at home that saw most of his High School rock up for the evening. Apart from multiple visits from the Police responding to our neighbour’s noise complaints the night was memorable for two significant events: John and his mates succeeded in burning down the back fence when their cosy little fire got out of control and John began his relationship with the girl that would eventually give birth to his son Mitchell. The first event was pretty bad but the second one led to some of the very best and some of the very worst times of John’s life. He loves Mitchell to death and hopefully some time before I’m “brown bread” Mitchell will realise just how loved he is by his Dad❤️.

At 18 John obtained his Driver’s Licence and had full access to the family cars. During his 18th year the Baseball Club had a Golf Day at Cape Shank Golf Course and as we were walking out the door his mum stated that I wasn’t to let John drive the golf cart. I replied that if we trusted him driving the Family vehicles we should trust him steering a golf cart. Once again, Mother knew best! Cape Shank has paths alongside the fairways for the carts that most people follow but not our John Boy. He decided to overtake the cart in front via the rough alongside the path and proceeded to run the Golf Buggy up a tree damaging the front of the cart and the windscreen. It took me about 6 months to confess to Robyn that not following her maternal instincts had cost us $1,000 in Golf Cart repairs.⛳️

That’s about it for today and hopefully by this time next week, I will have a commencement date for the 18 weeks Highway To Hell that my Chemo will likely become. Addionally I will have been administered my second three month Hormone Therapy implant. If the nurse thought I was a Fat Bastard when he administered my first implant I hate to think what smart arse crack he will come out with now I’m 10 kilos heavier!😡