I’m in my seventies.  My doctor said I don’t need any more PSA tests because I’m too old to worry about it.  Is that right? 

It depends on you and your PSA history.  There are some troubling statistics, which I will get to in a minute.  But first the good news:  If you are in your 70s, and your PSA is very low (how low? see below) and has been for years, you are probably unlikely to develop lethal prostate cancer.  H. Ballentine Carter, M.D., the Johns Hopkins urologist who dedicated his career to studying PSA and who came up with the concept of PSA velocity, asked this question using data from the Baltimore Longitudinal Study of Aging (BLSA):

Is your PSA track record good?  Basically, Carter looked at decades of blood samples from the same group of men, and saw which men developed prostate cancer, low-risk and high-risk, who died of prostate cancer, and who never developed it at all.  He also had been studying medical literature on other types of cancer.  In a recent interview for Discovery, the magazine for the Brady Urological Institute at Johns Hopkins, he told me:  “It just dawned on me, mainly from cervical cancer screening literature:  What if very young men have PSA levels that are extremely low, and have cumulative numbers of negative tests.  Would that suggest later in life that they are very low-risk?  As it turns out, if you’re in your 50s or early 60s and you have very low PSA, it’s unlikely that you’re going to be diagnosed with prostate cancer later in life.”  (Note: He’s NOT saying, “Stop getting screened in your 50s or early 60s!”) “Is there an age and a PSA level where you could tell an older man, ‘Congratulations, you made it, you don’t ever need to have a PSA test again?”  Sure enough, you reach an age around 75, and your PSA is less than 3, it is extremely unlikely that you will be diagnosed with lethal prostate cancer.” 

In our book, we say:  “If your PSA track record is good, you can probably retire earlier from PSA screening.”  So what does this mean?  Carter showed that if PSA testing were discontinued at age 65 in men who had PSA levels below 0.5 to 1.0 ng/ml, it would be unlikely that prostate cancer would be missed later in life.  In another study, Carter and colleagues found that it is safe to discontinue PSA testing for 75- to 80-year-old men with PSA levels lower than 3; none of the men in that study later died from prostate cancer.  However, the 75- to 80-year-old men who had PSA levels greater than 3 remained at risk of developing life-threatening disease.

Now, here’s the troubling point, which we discuss in our book:  Population studies have shown that men diagnosed at age 75 or older account for 48 percent of metastatic cancers and 53 percent of prostate cancer deaths, despite representing only 26 percent of the overall population.

How can this be? Another Johns Hopkins study, led by my co-author, urologist Patrick Walsh, M.D., and radiation oncologist Phuoc Tran, M.D., may shed some light here.  The Hopkins scientists studied 274 men over age 75 who underwent radiation therapy for prostate cancer. “We found that men who underwent PSA testing (as in, men who got regular screening for prostate cancer) were significantly less likely to be diagnosed with high-risk prostate cancer, and that men with either no PSA testing or incomplete testing (either a change in PSA was not followed up, or a biopsy was not performed when it was indicated); had more than a three-fold higher risk of having high-risk disease at diagnosis, when adjusted for other clinical risk factors,” says Tran.  They also found that “many of these men (who had not been screened, or who had gotten incomplete screening) who had a low PSA were found to have cancers that could be felt on a rectal exam” — indicating, Walsh says, that “older men need both a PSA and a digital rectal examination.”  Although this was a small study and more research is needed, “we believe that PSA screening should be considered in very healthy older men.”  

So:  Are you otherwise very healthy, and could expect to live a good, long life? It’s probably a good idea to keep getting checked for prostate cancer.

What’s the difference in the men who had been getting regular screening?  Their cancer was most likely caught much sooner after their PSA started to go up.

Screening saves lives.  Here’s an example from another specialty:  My husband, Mark, is a gastroenterologist, and he knows, when he does a routine colonoscopy on someone – let’s say a 65-year-old man – who got a screening colonoscopy at age 50 (or 40 or younger, if that person is high-risk), and who had a follow-up colonoscopy when recommended, that he is much less likely to find bad cancer in that guy.  But say a man of that same age comes in for the first time to get a colonoscopy, maybe because of some blood in the stool.  Say that guy’s mother had colon cancer.  That man should have gotten checked out for the first time 25 years ago.  I’m not sure what his record is, but over the years, Mark has had to remove an awful lot of polyps – once, I remember, it was 40! – from people who didn’t get screened when they could have.  Worse, he has found cancer that has gone through the wall of the colon, cancer that needs surgery to remove part of the intestine, cancer that needs chemo, cancer that very likely would never have had the chance to develop if caught early.

Don’t be that guy.  Please.

In addition to the book, I have written about this story and much more about prostate cancer on the Prostate Cancer Foundation’s website, pcf.org. The stories I’ve written are under the categories, “Understanding Prostate Cancer,” and “For Patients.”  As Patrick Walsh and I have said for years in our books, Knowledge is power: Saving your life may start with you going to the doctor, and knowing the right questions to ask. I hope all men will put prostate cancer on their radar. Get a baseline PSA blood test in your early 40s, and if you are of African descent, or if cancer and/or prostate cancer runs in your family, you need to be screened regularly for the disease. You should start at age 40.  Many doctors don’t do this, so it’s up to you to ask for it.

©Janet Farrar Worthington

 

 

Why did I say that no PSA number above 1, by itself, is a guarantee that you don’t have cancer?  Why do we say this in our book?

Because that’s what H. Ballentine (Bal) Carter, M.D., the great Johns Hopkins urologist and scientist, discovered.  In fact, he says:  “There is no PSA value below which you can guarantee someone they don’t have prostate cancer,” and no value that automatically means it’s cancer.  “There are men with PSAs of 20 who don’t have prostate cancer, and men with 0.5 to 1 who can have very serious prostate cancer.”

So, basically:  Your PSA number, by itself, means Jack.  What happens to it over time means everything.

This is called PSA velocity.  It is a concept pioneered in the 1990s by Carter, working with Patrick Walsh, M.D., my co-author on many books and publications, and it’s a very effective way to detect prostate cancer.  I recently interviewed Carter, who retired this summer after 32 years at The Brady Urological Institute at Johns Hopkins, for Discovery, a magazine published by the Brady.  He devoted his career to making sense of PSA, and what he has accomplished is incredible.  Among many findings, Carter also came up with median PSA numbers based on age, which we will discuss in a minute.

It’s a shame that many doctors, including even some urologists, don’t seem to grasp these simple and very effective ideas, and instead focus on the PSA number itself – an idea that was outdated 20 years ago.

I say this because I don’t know how many times I have talked to men who say:

“My doctor says I don’t need to worry about screening for prostate cancer until I’m in my 50s, and even then, it’s not really that big a deal.”

And, “My doctor says my PSA number is low, so everything’s fine, I don’t need to worry about it.”

This makes me very frustrated.  I’ve written about the travesty that happened in prostate cancer screening here, so we won’t go into that now.

Let’s get back to Bal Carter and PSA, and let’s time-travel, very briefly, to the late 1980s, when widespread screening for prostate cancer did not exist.  The discovery of PSA (prostate-specific antigen, an enzyme made by the prostate) had just made it possible, for the first time, to learn about prostate cancer from a blood test – but nobody knew what to do with PSA, or how to use it along with the rectal exam and the new use of transrectal ultrasound-guided biopsy in diagnosing prostate cancer early.

“There was controversy about even using PSA,” Carter recalls.   “There were voices saying, ‘Beware, we’re going to uncover a lot of cancers that never should have come to light.’”  And that was true.  So then came controversy over the PSA threshold:  what was the magic number that would indicate the need for a prostate biopsy?  “In retrospect, that was probably the wrong thing to be asking,” Carter says.  “There was just not a good understanding then of PSA as a continuum.”

Carter pioneered the concept of PSA velocity – the rate at which PSA rises over time.  “But that’s never been tested as a screening tool.  I honestly believe if we had not focused on a single, absolute threshold, and instead had focused on changes in PSA to alert us that someone has an aggressive cancer, in the long run we may have identified more individuals with the cancers that need to be treated, and eliminated more who don’t need to be treated.  But that will require a carefully done, prospective trial.”

Carter started looking at this years ago, in studies that would lay the foundation for PSA screening and also for safe, vigilant active surveillance as a mainstream treatment for low-risk prostate cancer.  How that came about, he says, “was really the brilliance of Pat Walsh.  When I first joined the faculty, he came to me and said, ‘What do you think would happen if we looked at changes in PSA?’  I said, ‘I think they’ll probably rise faster in people who have prostate cancer.  How can we study that?’  And he said, ‘Have you ever heard of the Baltimore Longitudinal Study of Aging (BLSA)?’”  The BLSA was conceived in 1958, when gerontologists at the Baltimore City Hospitals were trying to find a better way to study aging.  At that time, and even today, scientists would compare men and women who were in their twenties to people who were decades older.  But these scientists had a better idea:  to revisit the same person every two years, with a history and physical and blood samples that were stored.  This made it possible to look at men who had prostate disease, benign enlargement, or localized or metastatic prostate cancer – and then work backward, describing the changes in PSA, over the previous 20 to 30 years.

“I had never heard of it,” Carter continues.  “He said, ‘I know they have a large frozen serum bank, and we might be able to use some of that to look at the question: do PSA levels rise faster in men who have aggressive disease vs. men who don’t have prostate cancer?’  Sure enough, that’s the way it turned out.”

Carter’s work, Walsh says, “has changed the way prostate cancer is treated today around the world.”  Although Carter is a fine surgeon, “he has done his best not to operate on men who don’t need it.  He was a voice of reason at a time when the diagnosis and treatment of the disease underwent revolutionary changes.  With the introduction of widespread PSA testing in 1990, the diagnosis of prostate cancer reached epidemic acceleration and led to abuses fed by the greed of many fellow urologists.  Those are tough words, but there is no other way to explain it.  Bal emphasized the harm of overdiagnosis and overtreatment, proposed solutions based on improved screening practices, and developed guidelines for identifying men who should not be treated.  He began by learning about PSA.”

Using blood samples that had been collected for decades by the BLSA, Carter described how age and prostate disease influenced PSA.  “Based on his unique observations, he proposed new ways to interpret PSA levels, and specified intervals for testing that were the most informative,” says Walsh.  As Chairman of the AUA’s Guidelines Panel, Carter developed recommendations for how all urologists should screen for prostate cancer.

A Prostate Barometer

We discuss PSA in detail in chapter 4 of our book, but briefly:  PSA should never be considered a one-shot, cut-and-dried reading.  Instead, it’s like having a prostate barometer, so your doctor doesn’t have to wait for the PSA level to reach a magic number before acting.  With PSA velocity, what matters is a significant change over time, and for this to be accurate, you need to have multiple PSA measurements taken in the same laboratory, because PSA measurements can vary slightly from lab to lab.

The level of change depends on your PSA number.  For men with a PSA greater than 4, an average, consistent increase of more than 0.75 ng/ml over the course of three tests is considered significant.  Let’s say that over 18 months, your PSA went up from 4.0 to 4.6 to 5.8.  Clearly, something’s going on here.

But what if your PSA is less than 4?  Walsh says:  “Because we now realize that men with PSA levels as low as 1.0 may have cancer,” guidelines have been established for PSA velocity in these men, too:  In these men, work by Carter and colleagues suggests, any consistent increase in PSA is alarming, even an increase as small as 0.35 ng/m. a year.  They also found that many years before a man’s prostate cancer was diagnosed, when his total PSA levels (as opposed to more complex PSA readings, such as a free PSA test) were still low, a PSA velocity of greater than 0.35 ng/ml a year predicted who would later die from prostate cancer.  If you have a PSA between 1 and 4 and it is consistently rising faster than about 0.4 ng/ml a year, you should get a biopsy.

What Should My PSA Be for My Age?

Be aware:  15 percent of men with a PSA level lower than 4 have prostate cancer, and 15 percent of these men with cancer have high-grade cancer, the aggressive kind that needs to be treated.  That’s why we say in the book:  “There is no safe, absolute cutoff above a PSA level of 1.0 at which a man can rest assured that he is not at risk of harboring a high-grade cancer.  Thus, what probably is going to matter the most in the future is your PSA history.”  Get that baseline PSA level in your early 40s, or at age 40 if you have a family history of prostate cancer, of cancer in general, or if you are African American.

Then, depending on the baseline level – whether you are above or below the 50th percentile for your age – take a repeat PSA test every two to five years.  If you are in your 40s and your PSA level is greater than 0.6 ng/ml, or if you are in your 50s and your PSA is greater than 0.7, you should have your PSA measured at least every two years.  If your PSA is below this percentile, you may be able to wait as long as five years for the next test.  These are Carter’s numbers.  In another study, of a larger group of men, urologists Stacy Loeb of New York University and William Catalona of Northwestern University found the comparable numbers to be 0.7 for men in their 40s and 0.9 for men in their 50s.  

So, if you’re 50 and you have a PSA of 2.5, for example, and your doctor says it’s low, that doctor is wrong.  It’s actually high for 50.  It could be prostatitis, or benign prostatic enlargement (BPH).  But it could also be cancer, and you need to get it checked out.  A good next step would be to check the free PSA, with a test such as the Prostate Health Index (PSA has various forms in the blood, and these “second-tier” PSA tests can help tell whether it’s more likely to be higher because of BPH or cancer.)   The higher the free PSA, the higher the likelihood that you are free of cancer, as Carter says.  The numbers from studies vary, but one free PSA cutoff is 25 percent.  If your free PSA is higher than that, your PSA is more likely to be elevated because of BPH than it is of cancer.  If your free PSA is lower than 25, you are more likely to have cancer.

So, basically, to sum up:  You can’t just look at a PSA number and know very much at all.  It’s like looking at a Most Wanted photo and saying, “That guy looks guilty,” or “He has kind eyes!  He’s probably been framed! He’s no criminal.”  No self-respecting detective would ever try to get a warrant based on appearance.  You investigate first.  This is why you study PSA, watch what it does, and if it’s going up, check the free PSA, with a “second-tier” PSA test such as the Prostate Health Index (PHI); you also may need a biopsy.  Don’t just give it a free pass after one test because “the number’s low.”

In addition to the book, I have written about this story and much more about prostate cancer on the Prostate Cancer Foundation’s website, pcf.org. The stories I’ve written are under the categories, “Understanding Prostate Cancer,” and “For Patients.”  As Patrick Walsh and I have said for years in our books, Knowledge is power: Saving your life may start with you going to the doctor, and knowing the right questions to ask. I hope all men will put prostate cancer on their radar. Get a baseline PSA blood test in your early 40s, and if you are of African descent, or if cancer and/or prostate cancer runs in your family, you need to be screened regularly for the disease. You should start at age 40.  Many doctors don’t do this, so it’s up to you to ask for it.

©Janet Farrar Worthington

 

 


Why do I write so much about prostate cancer?  Because I can’t get away from it.  And now prostate cancer, never very far away, has hit close to home.  Again.

Before I tell you my story, please study this picture.  This is a picture of a miracle.  It’s not a pincushion.  It’s an MRI of a prostate, and the needle biopsy that used this MRI image to find its target – the spot of cancer in what’s ordinarily the most difficult-to-reach, out-of-the-way spot possible.  Those green needles aren’t all in there at the same time; this just shows where the needles went.  Two of them went directly into that spot of cancer.  Believe me when I tell you – as four of the most respected urologists in the U.S. have told me – this cancer would have been missed with the traditional transrectal biopsy, which uses ultrasound.  More about this in a minute.  The cancer is aggressive – Gleason 9.  But it is very small.  It is curable, the urologists all believe.  I believe it, too.

That’s my husband’s prostate.  At this very moment, we are scheduling surgery to get it taken out.

I feel like I’ve been in training for this moment for 28 years. 

That’s when prostate cancer made its first unwelcome entrance into my life – when my father-in-law, Tom, died of it at age 53.  My husband, Mark, was a medical Chief Resident at Johns Hopkins at the time, and all he could do for his dad was make sure his terrible pain was controlled.  Tom never had a chance; he had gone to see the doctor for back pain.  That turned out to be prostate cancer, which had already invaded his spine.  Tom never had a PSA screening test; nobody did back then.  That would change in a couple of years.

I worked at Hopkins, too, as the editor of the medical alumni magazine.   When Tom had been diagnosed, his doctor told him, “Don’t worry about it.  Prostate cancer is an old man’s disease – the kind you can live with for years.”  Tom died within months of his diagnosis.  I wanted to know how a 53-year-old man could die of an old man’s disease, so I decided to do a story about prostate cancer.  I set up an interview with Patrick Walsh, the head of urology at Hopkins, and we wrote a story that would change my life forever.  That sounds kind of melodramatic, but it’s true.  I have been writing about prostate cancer ever since.

Back then, I had no idea that Pat Walsh was the surgeon who invented the nerve-sparing radical prostatectomy, and that he had developed the best prostate cancer research and treatment program in the world at that time.  I wrote about Tom’s battle with cancer, and Walsh’s operation, and the research that was happening at Hopkins.  In those pre-internet days, we were inundated with requests for reprints.  Some 3,000 reprints later, we decided to write our first book.

That book was called, The Prostate: A Guide for Men and the Women Who Love Them.  We wrote it for women as well as men, because in Walsh’s experience, it was the women who got their men – fathers, husbands, brothers, sons – to the doctor.   I found this to be true:  as we were writing it, in 1992, I told both my parents that my dad should go to the doctor and get his prostate checked, and he should get this new thing called a PSA blood test.  My mom made him go and keep going every year.  He hated it, especially the rectal exam, but he went.

In 1997, when Dad was 63, his doctor felt something suspicious on his prostate – a rough patch.  “Probably prostatic calculi” (the prostate’s version of tiny gallstones), he said, but he ordered a biopsy, done by Dad’s local urologist in South Carolina.  A pathologist found prostate cancer.  My parents called me.  I called Pat Walsh about 30 seconds later.  We sent the slides to Hopkins for a second opinion, and they were read by a world-renowned urologic pathologist, Jonathan Epstein.   Two months later, Pat Walsh took out my dad’s prostate, and saved his life.  Dad had initially been diagnosed with Gleason 6 (3 + 3) disease, but – like many men – he actually turned out to have some slightly higher-grade cancer, and his pathologic stage was Gleason 3 + 4.

Note:  My dad never read my book.  My mom did, and on the eight-hour drive up I-95 to Baltimore for the surgery, she read aloud passages of the book she had highlighted.

A few years later, Mark’s grandfather, Charles, died at age 85 of complications from radiation therapy for – you guessed it, prostate cancer.  Radiation was not nearly as precise back then as it is now, and there were a lot of complications, particularly in the rectum.  Frankly, I don’t think he even needed to be treated; at his age, with heart problems, he could have done watchful waiting – the precursor to active surveillance back in the day.

A few months after that, my beloved grandfather, whom we all called Pop, died.  Of a heart attack after being put on a great big dose of estrogen – another treatment they didn’t have the hang of back then – for prostate cancer.  Like Mark’s grandfather, Pop was in his eighties, had no symptoms, and probably didn’t even need to be treated.  We know so much more now.

Patrick Walsh and I kept writing books on prostate cancer, and our first book morphed into a more cancer-focused book, Dr. Patrick Walsh’s Guide to Surviving Prostate Cancer.  Over the years, the news got better and better – particularly the chapters on advanced and metastatic prostate cancer.  When we first started, the news there was bleak.  Now, in large part due to research funded by the Prostate Cancer Foundation (PCF), for which I am proud to work as a science writer, there is more hope for treating advanced prostate cancer than ever before.  But, as my dad’s case has shown, there’s a lot to be said for early diagnosis and treatment.  Ideally, Walsh and I wrote, prostate cancer will be a blip on the radar screen – it’s caught early, it’s treated, and then it’s gone, and you get on with your life.  Many men with low-grade disease may never need treatment; they can be safely monitored for years.

When Mark reached age 40, I made sure he got his PSA tested every year.  His PSA was very low (less than 1, and then right around 1) when he was in his forties and early fifties.  Because of his family history, I told him and his doctor about getting a genetic test (which I have written about) to screen for 16 mutated genes known to be linked to aggressive cancer.  Mark took the test, and thank God, it was negative.  His PSA went up to 2, so his doctor ordered another test three months later.  It was 3.  We took another test; also 3.  I had suggested to Mark and his doctor that he get the prostate health index (PHI) test, which looks at different types of PSA.  Mark’s free PSA had dropped from 25 down to 18 – not encouraging.  As we said in our book:  free PSA of 25 and above is more likely to be free of cancer.

I called Pat Walsh.  He told Mark to come to Hopkins.

We live in a small town in Arizona.  Our internist said, “at least get the biopsy done here.”

I said these words:  “Absolutely not.  You need an MRI.”

I knew this for several reasons:  I had written about it from interviews with respected urologists including Bal Carter, of Hopkins; Stacy Loeb, of New York University; and Edward (Ted) Schaeffer, of Northwestern.  And I had interviewed Rob Gray – a young guy with a young family, whose battle-scarred prostate had endured multiple ultrasound-guided biopsies, all negative, but whose PSA had continued to go up.  His doctors told him not to worry about it; Rob worried.  He would still be worrying today, except he had a fusion MRI, which combines several different ways of looking at the prostate.  Because of all his other biopsies, his prostate had developed scar tissue that masked the cancer.  The MRI found it.

That stayed with me.  Then, just weeks ago, I interviewed Hopkins urologist Michael Gorin about two things in particular.  One is multi-parametric (mp) MRI, which is similar to fusion MRI, but it’s what they call it at Hopkins.  Gorin has developed software that allows him to take the findings of mpMRI and use them as a road map to guide the biopsy.

The other thing Gorin is doing is getting to the prostate by a different approach: through the perineum.   The perineum is the area between the scrotum and the rectum.

The traditional transrectal ultrasound (TRUS) biopsy, as its name suggests, reaches the prostate through the rectum.  There are a lot of problems with the TRUS biopsy.  Because it goes through the rectum, there is a risk of infection.  There is no risk of infection from the perineum; in fact, they don’t even give antibiotics for this approach.  And, most worrisome about the transrectal approach:  it’s hard to cover the entire prostate.  This is a problem especially for African American men, who tend to develop prostate cancer in the anterior region of the prostate.  Basically, as Ted Schaeffer, an excellent surgeon and coauthor of the book, explained, if you think of a prostate as a house, the transrectal biopsy comes in from the basement.  It’s pretty good at reaching the main floor, but not that great at reaching the attic.  It’s a South to North approach.

The transperineal approach goes from West to East, and instead of a house, Mike Gorin uses the analogy of a car:  the needle comes in from the headlights to the tail lights, but it can go lower, from the front tires to the back tires, or higher, from the front windshield to the rear windshield.

Now, combine this approach with MRI, and it’s a whole new world for diagnosis.

Compared to MRI, TRUS is blind.  It’s lame.  There, I said it.  Imagine you’re playing paintball at night, and you’re trying to hit a target.  You do the best you can, but you miss a lot.   Then the other team comes in and cleans your clock – because these guys have night-vision goggles.  They can actually see what they’re trying to hit.   MRI gives the urologist night-vision goggles.

When Mark got his MRI, it showed a 6 mm lesion – a spot the size of a smallish pearl on a necklace.  There was a 70-percent chance that this would be cancer.  Gorin took that MRI and used it to guide the biopsy.  Out of 15 cores taken throughout the prostate, he took two samples from inside this spot; he had a target to hit, and he nailed it.  He is my hero.

I’m telling you this because I have learned some things that I want you to know.  In fact, like the Ancient Mariner in the very old poem by Samuel Coleridge, I feel compelled to tell you this, and I hope you will feel bound to listen.  And I hope to God that someone else will be helped by what I’ve learned, including:

Every patient needs a treatment warrior.  An advocate.  Mark is an incredibly smart doctor, but he was just as stunned at having a possible diagnosis of cancer as any other patient.  His internist wanted him to go to the local urologist for a biopsy.  Our small town is not up on all the latest technology.  We don’t have an MRI for prostate biopsies.  They don’t do the transperineal approach. Again, I am certain that if Mark had gotten the traditional TRUS biopsy, this would not have been found.  The lesion on his prostate was in the anterior region – hard to reach, especially if the doctor can’t see and doesn’t have an MRI-revealed target to try to hit.  But Mark would have done as his doctor suggested, because he was stunned and he didn’t know as much as I happen to know about prostate biopsies, because his area of expertise is digestive diseases, not prostate cancer.

The difference between ultrasound and MRI is night and day.  It’s life-changing, and life-saving.

There is no safe PSA number above 1, as Bal Carter has said for years, and as we say in Chapter 4 of our book.  My dad’s PSA was very low:  only 1.2.  And yet, he had Gleason 3 + 4 disease.  Mark’s PSA is only 3.  Please understand this point.  This may be the most important of all.  I have talked to so many men over the last nearly three decades.  So many men who were wrongly assured by their doctor – because their doctors did not know better– that “Your PSA is going up, but it’s still pretty low.  Don’t worry about it.”  If your PSA is going up, worry about it.  It may not be cancer, but you have to check.  If your doctor sees one PSA reading and judges the number by itself, that doctor is not giving you the best advice. 

            You must look at PSA velocity:  the rate of rise of PSA over time.  I will be covering this in more detail in the next post.

And finally – again, because I have written about this disease for nearly 30 years, and talked to so many men with every stage of prostate cancer – the doctors who urge men not to get tested, who tell them not to worry about it, who say there’s no benefit to getting screened for prostate cancer, that the risk of complications from biopsy are too great, that too many men are overtreated, are just plain wrong.

As urologist Stacy Loeb told me:  “A diagnosis of prostate cancer doesn’t mean you need to get treated.”  But you should be the one to make that decision; don’t let cancer make it for you.  Not all men need treatment.  Because of Mark’s family history and his Gleason score, even though the one spot of cancer is very small, we will be getting treatment.  Surgery.  I say we, because it’s both of us.  We’re a team.

Mark is worried about the main complications of surgery – temporary urinary incontinence and the risk of erectile dysfunction (ED).  Of course he is; nobody wants these complications.

I’m not.  There is a huge difference between dealing with the side effects of treatment for localized disease – cancer that is confined within the prostate, cancer that can be cured with surgery or radiation – and the side effects of treatment for advanced disease, treatment that begins with shutting down the male hormones.

The complications from surgery can be treated, and as Pat Walsh says, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“But what about incontinence?”  I don’t care.  I know that it’s almost always temporary, and if not, biofeedback is wonderful, and he can start doing the Kegel exercises now.  Absolute worst-case scenario, there’s surgery to get an artificial urinary sphincter.  We’ll deal with it.   It will be okay.

“But what about ED?”  I don’t care.  We’ll deal with it.  There are many treatments, starting with drugs.  Worst-case scenario, there’s surgery:  a prosthesic implant.  I don’t think this will happen; the cancer is nowhere near the neurovascular bundles, the nerves responsible for erection (discovered by Pat Walsh, who developed the “nerve-sparing” radical prostatectomy).  I think he will be just fine.

What matters is him being there for me, our son in high school, our son who just graduated college, and our daughter and son-in-law, who are about to have their first baby.  That’s all I care about.  Mark not being there is unthinkable.  Right now, the score in our family is prostate cancer 3 (Tom, Charles, and Pop), our family (my dad, who is about to celebrate his 84th birthday) 1.

I don’t want prostate cancer to win against our family ever again. 

When Pat Walsh called with the biopsy report, it took a second to shift from “Oh, my God,” to “Let’s roll.”  We had been praying for low-grade cancer, Gleason 3 + 3, but this high-grade; it is aggressive.  So we are now dealing with high-risk cancer.  But it is small-volume, thank God!  Because it was detected early.

“Thank God,” Walsh agreed.  “We could not have found it any earlier,” and without MRI, it wouldn’t have been found at all.  “These are the lesions we consistently missed” with TRUS biopsy.  He explained that where Mark’s tumor is, in the posterior apex of the prostate, is like the nose cone of an airplane.  It’s behind the urethra; almost impossible to reach through the rectum – but Gorin reached it through the perineum.  One more thing, Walsh said:  “It was found with a new machine that Mike Gorin has had only for a week.  This was truly a targeted MRI.”  Thank God!  Now let’s roll.

Note: This MRI is shown with Mark’s permission.  He, too, has made it his mission to help men get screened for prostate cancer, and if they have a rising PSA, to get it checked out.

Update: Apparently, the strength of the magnet in the MRI matters a lot.  The stronger the magnet, the stronger the image.  The prostate MRI magnet used for Mark is 3 Tesla.

In addition to the book, I have written about this story and much more about prostate cancer on the Prostate Cancer Foundation’s website, pcf.org. The stories I’ve written are under the categories, “Understanding Prostate Cancer,” and “For Patients.”  As Patrick Walsh and I have said for years in our books, Knowledge is power: Saving your life may start with you going to the doctor, and knowing the right questions to ask. I hope all men will put prostate cancer on their radar. Get a baseline PSA blood test in your early 40s, and if you are of African descent, or if cancer and/or prostate cancer runs in your family, you need to be screened regularly for the disease. Many doctors don’t do this, so it’s up to you to ask for it.

©Janet Farrar Worthington