Workout Log 8 August 2012

30 minute water dance and swim. Had a scare last night, a flash of intense pain when I lay sideways on my left hip. The pain goes away after being elicited and cannot consistently be generated.

Sciatica? Or prostate metastasis? Prostate cancer often metastasizes to bone and indeed, the Queen Mary oncology boys, who are somewhat skeptical, unlike the urology boys, of this being a standard form of prostate cancer, point to the absence of bone pain or indications of tumors in June’s bone scan or July’s PET scan as reason for their skepticism. Gee, sorry guys for not having a tumor that can fracture bone from the inside.

They say as a diagnostic rule of thumb, one patient: one disease. Yet it’s my understanding based on examining my X rays with one of the QMH doctors that I have two diseases: some sort of prostate cancer (that’s responding in terms of PSA to androgen blocker) and a sciatica caused simply by the fact that I’ve been slamming my bones for thirty years, in running. If this is one disease, where the funny looking cells are produced by degenerate bone or something like that, then I hope they name it after me.

I am fairly certain that the flash of hip pain was caused by sciatica, since yesterday morning I half-ran to make the Lamma ferry and this may have intensified this bout of sciatica pain.

I don’t think the sciatica is being helped by the need almost every day to haul ass to the City of Sadness, so I’ve arranged to stay at a health spa in Thailand later this month. To just rest and hang in the sea like a boneless jellyfish may help.

I’d arranged long before La Debacle of May to stay in Italy in an art studio and canceled the stay when I received the cancer diagnosis. Today I received word that my travel insurance claim for the cancellation of the stay is honored in full which is a load off my mind.

The moodiness and flashes of anger based on my “drained” feeling. I just have no mojo or spunk left, probably due to the psychological impact of La Debacle and the hormone treatment. I feel the road back to a new form of mojo or spunk lies through music and dance which is why I am real happy to have found my practice piano. I found myself getting through the first Prelude of book one of the Well-Tempered Clavier (a very easy piece indeed, but quite beautiful) with hardly a glitch after more than thirty years.

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