Rog T's Cancer blog - What matters in life and why it might just save yours!

Are you sitting comfortably, you might not be by the end of this blog, but I genuinely believe that blokes need to talk about these things. I was listening to BBC Radio London this morning. A guest on the morning show was saying she'd directly saved four lives through her work raising breast cancer awareness. That is a great thing and I am proud to say that this series of blogs has saved the lives of six people, who have taken the trouble to get in touch and tell me that it inspired them to get checked out, and the checks uncovered symptoms that required treatment. They will not be joining the 12,000 men a year killed by prostate cancer, making it the second biggest killer. I've been saving sharing this story until now, but at The False Dots gig at the Dublin Castle on the 21st, a stranger came up to me, introduced himself and his wife. They were from up North. They had come down specially to see The False Dots. Why, eight years ago, he'd read my blog, had a PSA test and found he had prostate cancer. It hadn't spread, but he had to have it removed. The Doctors told him that it had been caught just in time. They thought they'd 'got it all' but weren't sure. After five years, with a zero PSA reading, he was declared clear. They fancied a shopping trip in London and decided to watch the band and say thank you. He then said "Can I buy you a pint, I can't really ever repay you, but its the least I can do". He then said "It was great seeing you up onsateg doing your music, life goes on, doesn't it?".

We had a pint, discussed football, music and life for ten minutes. Although we only spoke for ten minutes, he felt like a brother. Just before he left, he went to the loo, his wife turned to me and said "You don't know what it means to me that he read your blog and had that test, the thought he wouldn't have seen his Grandaughter is too horrible to contemplate". She then said that he was doing a lot of work in his home town with a Prostate group and often pointed people at my blog. When he left, we gave each other a hug and wished each other luck. 

Eight years he's been clear. Dull and boring. Not words that will excite you, set your heart racing or make you lie back with a cup of tea and think "Thank you Lord" (or other expressions of gratefulness as appropriate as to your beliefs). However, when you have had surgery for cancer and you are having your annual review, the the duller and more boring it is, the better.  In August 2023, I had surgery to remove a cancerous prostate. At the time, I felt like my world was ending. The side effects of my operation are infertility (100% guaranteed as the seminal vessels are removed), incontinence (maybe for about 50% of  men in the first six months, dropping to 10-15% after a couple of years) and erectile dysfunction (50-60% of men). I had nerve sparing techniques that markedly improve the outcomes with regards to contenince and erectile function. These technioques were only available if you went private at the time, although I believe that NHS trials are now underway. I found the prospect daunting. My outcome was pretty good. I am continent, I was almost immediately,  and have a degree of sexual function, which is markedly improved with cialis. I have days when the cup is half empty and days when the cup is half full.

It took me a week to fully process this meeting. We'd just finished our gig and I was buzzing. I was elated to hear his story. I never really think of myself as one of the good guys, but for a moment, I felt that God had put me here for a purpose and I was living up to his plan. I don't want to come over all religious, but it is the only way I can describe that feeling. The guy wasn't slushy or sentimental. He was a proper bloke, who  just felt saying thank you was important. But afterwards, in a sober, quiet moment, I realised that it wasn't meeting him that really made an impression. It was his wife's words "the thought he wouldn't have seen his Grandaughter is too horrible to contemplate". When people have said to me "I can't bear the idea of not being a whole man", I've always struggled to find the words to give a serious response, which might persuade someone that it will be OK. She didn't have to say anything, but in one sentence she cut through all of the waffle, bullshit and everything else. For that I will be eternally grateful. His Grandaughter is two. I never knew any of my Grandparents. I always felt robbed and a tad resentful. All of my siblings were born before my maternal grandmother passed away. They all have memories and would talk in hallowed terms of 'Nana'. There is a little two year old girl, who will know her Grandad, because eight years ago he read my Cancer blog and got a PSA test.

We don't always realise our value and worth to those we love. Life isn't perfect, we are not perfect, but when we go, we leave a massive hole in the lives of people we love. A hole that cannot be filled because each of us is unique. So if you are over 50 and especially if you are deemed at risk (close blood relatives have had prostate cancer), please consider a PSA test. It ain't perfect, but six people have read my blog and caught the bastard disease before it spread, so it is not a waste of time. Just consider, in sixty odd years time, when I am long gone, a lady may just be telling her grandkids tales of how she spent time with her lovely grandad and how much she loved him. Why? Because he had a PSA test. 

It's not been fun for me. But that short chat on the 21st made me realise that the cup isn not half full, it is overflowing, but with a very different brew to the one I thought I ordered at the bar. 

Here's a little ditty I wrote about the subject!

Don't let failing NHS bureaucracy derail your cancer treatment - Rog T's Cancer blog

I would have probably posted this blog last week, but I had dedicated the blog to the Mill Hill Music Festival diary for the duration of the festival, so regular features did not appear. Regular followers of this feature will know that I had some less than welcome news in May. The HIFU team at UCLH had told me that in light of an aggressive development in my prostate, I was now going to need either surgery or radiotherapy. This was dependent on the result of a PET scan. This was required to ascertain whether the cancer had broken out of the Prostate.If it had, then the option would be hormone therapy to manage the condition. I was passed to the Oncology department of The Royal Free for a consultation and told that the PET scan would be arranged withing 2 weeks. An appointment with the Oncology team was arranged for Tuesday 13th June. I was advised that the PET scan would be done before this and the surgery team would book an appointment once the results were available.

The only problem was that the PET scan wasn't booked. Apparently the doctor who raised the order 'made a mistake' and the order expired. This meant that I hadn't had a PET scan by the time I saw the team at the Royal Free. I am not one to sit around waiting. I had been actively emailing and phoning, all to no avial. The team at the Royal Free saw me, laid out the options. If it had spread I'd be under them having a life on hormone therapy. This would hopefully keep the cancer at bay, but is in effect chemical castration, as prostate cancer is a hormone driven cancer. If it hadn't, I'd have six months of hormone therapy then six weeks of intensive daily radiotherapy. After that, it would take up to a year for my hormone levels to return to normal. The side effects are a 1-2% chance of a radiuotion linked cancer in 10-15 years. There is also a 30% chance of incontinence/impotence/infertility as a lasting effect. 

The Royal Free said they'd chase UCLH for the PET scan. Eventually I got a pet scan on the 15th. This involves being injected with a radioactive dye. I was informed that it was completely safe but I should avoid pregnant women and children for a minimum of six hours, as I could damage them. Once I'd been injected, I had to wait 90 minutes for the dye to work it's way around my body, then I had the scan. It took nearly an hour and was not particularly comfortable or pleasant, but it is a necessary evil. 

The waiting for the test and the cock ups with the booking had caused me a significant degree of stress. Once I had the scan, I then had to wait until the following Tuesday for the results. In the meantime I'd received the results of my latest PSA test, up from 10.6 in March to 12. All in all, my anxiety levels had risen to a very high level. In some ways I was glad to have the festival to think about. The PET scan will detect other, non related cancers as well, so I was actually very paranoid about the matter. 

On Tusesday UCLH called to book a surgical appointment. They could only offer me Friday last week, which was a day I was fully committed to the festival, so I deferred until this coming Friday. I was told the appointment was at 9am. I then received a follow up call. Because I'd had HIFU, the procedure was more complicated and I needed to speak to a surgeon qualified to do the procedure. The appointment was shifted to noon. I asked about the PET scan results. They said they were in but couldn't tell me. This was rather frustration. On Weds morning, I received an email to say that it was good. 

With this, my anxiety levels returned to normal. In some ways, I'm lucky. My MRI was originally due to take place in July, so I am ahead of the game. It has taken me three months to get to the position of having my consults, as biopsys and PET scans were required. I am ahead of the game, but I have to say that I am not happy with the bureacratic cock ups and the talk of 'backlogs'. I have always been of the opinion that the NHS was good at dealing with serious issues. I am starting to think this is no longer entirely true. My advice is to make sure that you are not fobbed off by the bureaucrats. It is your life. The medical staff are wonderful, but to the people scheduling appointments etc, you are just a number.

--- About this feature
For those of you who are regular readers and have read the previous posts on Cancer, there's what this is all about. I write this blog because knowledge is power and if you know what you are dealing with, you have more weapons in the locker to fight it. It is a personal view, I'm not medically qualified. This is for the sole purpose of information for those who are interested.This is the latest installment in my occasional series about how I'm adjusting to living with a big C in my life.  For those of you who aren't, here's a quick summary. I'm 60 years old and in October 2011 I  had a prostate biopsy following two "slightly high" PSA tests - 2.8 & 4.1. The biopsy took ten tissue samples and one of these showed a "low grade cancer" which gave me a 3+3 on the Gleason scale. I was put on a program of active monitoring.  In early February, I got the results of the a PSA test - down to 3.5 and an MRI scan which found absolutely nothing, two more tests in 2012 were at 3.5 and 3.9, in 2013 my test was 4.0, Jan 2014 was 3.8, August 2014 was 4.0,  February 2015 it was  up to 5.5  and my latest in August 2015 was down again at 4.6. In October 2015 I had a transperinial Prostate biopsy, that revealed higher grade cancer and my Gleason score was raised to 3+4 (Small mass + more aggressive cancer). On 22nd Jan 2016 I had HIFU (Hi Intensity Focused Ultrasound) treatment at UCHL). My post procedure PSA in May was 4.0 which was down, followed by 3.7 in August, and 3.5 in October  which means that the direction is positive . However in January the follow up MRI revealed "something unusual which requires investigation" After a follow up biopsy, it appeared this was nothing to worry about. My two most recent PSA tests were Ok (3.7 and 4.6) and an MRI scan in March was very positive. A  PSA in October 2019 was 4.6, so stable and good news, the last in May 2020 was 5.45 a small rise, so worrying, however after a review against the most recent MRI, it was decided that this was fine. My two latest ones in February 2022 was 6.7 and October 2022 was 6.6 was stable. My MRI in March 2022 showed 'a change' so I am now awaiting a biopsy. I had a PSA test in late March which also showed a marked increase to 10.3. I had an MRI scan that showed 'significant change'. This lead to a biopsy that indicated a tumour of 4mm that had a gleason score of 4+4. A PSa test in June saw a rise to 12. I've seen the oncology team and am awaiting a visit to the surgical team to discuss the next step. Thnis are not great but they are not dire either. 

 I've no symptoms apart from needing to wee quite regularly and sadly for a few people, if I'm gonna die soon, it (hopefully) won't be from Prostate cancer. Got the picture?

Reality bites, facing up to the future - Rog T's Cancer blog

 Today, I fly to Portugal to (hopefully) finish work on the new album by The False Dots. It is provisionally entitled "A finger in the Sun". We have recorded the backing tracks to five songs in our Mill Hill Music Complex studios, and are going to Boz Boorer's Seirra Vista studios in Monchique to puit the cherry on top. Boz is an amazing music producer and the environment at his studios is ideal for finishing off an album. When we work in Mill Hill, I am always being interrupted. Customers need help, friends drop in. I love it, but being isolated is great. What's this got to do with my recent cancer diagnosis? Well, I won't be writing any blogs till I get back, so I wanted make sure that everyone knew this is for good rather than bad reasons.

And how am I? Well that's an interesting question. .Following my diagnosis on Wednesday and the news that I will need 'further treatment', I think people expect me to be on deaths door, pale and gaunt, but nothing could be further from the truth. If it wasn't for the fact that I'd had an MRI and had samples snipped off my prostate gland I'd have no idea I had the bloody disease. They caught it early. Physically, I feel as fit and well as I ever have. My Fitbit tells me that my cardiac fitness is fine, I average 10,000 or more steps a day

Yesterday, I went on a London International Ska Festival River cruise and spent four hours drinking beer and bopping. I couldn't have been happier. 

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A post shared by Roger Tichborne (@rogtex)

But sadly, life isn't all drinking beer and boppping in the sun. There are things to be faced up to, decisions to be made. There are a few stark facts about the disease

In England

• More than 47,000 men are diagnosed with prostate cancer every year in England.
• More than 10,000 men die from prostate cancer every year in England.
• Every hour, one man dies from prostate cancer in England.
• More than 410,000 men are living with and after prostate cancer in England.

I was diagnosed in 2011. I am currently one of the 410,000 men mentioned. You can find out more here prostatecanceruk.org/ if you are worried. I'd urge every man aged 50 and over to get checked out. Whilst I have some difficult decisions, none are likely to involve booking an appointment with COOP funeral services (other companies are available) due to this any time soon. 

But it's not happy days. I think for most men like me, the biggest fear of any treatment is that you will become unable to have sexual relations as a result of any treatment. I love my wife and I still fancy her like mad. I am really relaxed about the prospect of death, I have few fears, but the thought of not being able to have a sexual relationship terrifies me. Maybe some of this is irrational, but there is a part of my mind that tells me that no sane woman would want to be with a man who is impotent. I am sure that it won't surprise you to learn that she tells me that this will make no difference to her feelings for me, but I cannot escape the fear that maybe I'll only be half a man. There is a part of me that tells me I should refuse all treatments, until I really do have no choice and the cancer has made the decision for me. When I mentioned this in 2016, she was horrified that I could even think this. What is even more horrififying is most sexually functioning men I know, who have a diagnosis, tell me that this is something they have seriously considered. I am still seriously considering this as an option. I know it is a stupid option, but there is a voice telling me to squeeze every ounce out of a full life whilst I still can. 

Having said that, it is only an option to be considered and it is probably not one that I will choose, although I will ask the doctors what that would mean. It is a Russian roulette option. It could blow my head off. I had a beer with a mate who has been through the radiotherapy option. He was very positive about it. I must confess, it scares me less than surgery. The down side is that the treatment will take a very long time. Six months of hormone therapy, six weeks of radio therapy for five days a week, then maybe 2 years of hormone therapy after. Then there is surgery. As I had HiFu this is a far more complicated procedure than if I hadn't. When I had HiFu, this was not properly explained. I am a bit annoyed at this, although in all honesty, I'd probably have gone for HiFu still. With surgery, it is highly likely I'll have the three dreaded I's - Impotence, Infertility and Incontinence. The upside? It should be the end of the matter and when I get used to it, I won't have to worry too much. 

Are there any other options, radical treatments? I really don't know. The other complication is that I need a PET scan before any decision is made. If the cancer has spread, then the surgical option becomes irrelevent. It will be hormone therapy. I am told that with the MRI and biopsy results, this is unlikely. At the moment, I am in limbo.

So how am I doing mentally? Well, I had a couple of dark days, but as I noted on Friday, my band rehearsal lifted my spirits. I am now mostly OK, although I have short episodes of feeling completely overhwhelmed by it all, when I feel like screaming. These have mostly been when I've been alone or walking the dogs. I can cope with things when I know what will happen, but it is all up in the air. I worry about my wife, the kids, the studio. I reflect on my life and all the bad decisions I've made, all the people I've upset, all of the things I should have done but didn't. All of the people who I let down. All of the people I should have apologised to, but I was too cowardly.  I guess it is only natural to be intraspective at such times and also rather self critical. I've always had a mild dose of imposter syndrome and find it hard to comprehend that I've achieved anything. I've always felt this was only because I have managed to surround myself with wonderful people and surfed the wave of their talents. There is a part of me that is scared by this cancer struggle as in many ways it is not something I can rely on anyone else to deal with. I have great friends who are supportive, I am blessed, but when I go into treatment, much of it will be how my own body reacts and responds. Does my body like me? Clearly I've upset it to be where I am. 

But all of that aside, I'm off to Portugal, I have work to do and I intend to do it to the best of my ability and have a damn good time in the process. See you at the end of next week. Hopefully with a suntan and a finished album.

Another Prostate biopsy, another fortnight of stress - Rog T's cancer blog

 Last Friday was the day for my latest medical adventure. I had to make my way to UCLH for 9am for a trans perinneal prostatate biopsy. This is the fourth or fifth biopsy that I've had since I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2010. This was performed under sedation, so I was sparko for the duration, which was just fine by me. Of all the elements of treatment that I've had during the journey, biopsies are the one I like least. Although the Hifu I had in 2016 had many more unpleasant effects (thankfully temporary), at least I felt that it was doing something useful. Biopsies simply tell you the extent of the bad news. Not only that, there is a period of uncertainty between the procedure and getting the news. For me, this is mentally tough. It is hard not to speculate on what may or may not happen. 

The day did not start well. My normal journey would be to take Thameslink to St Pancras and have a leisurely walk up the Euston Road, getting my head ready for the stresses of the day. Unfortunately, the trains were on strike. Thank you Mr Sunak and your incompetent transport secretary. Sooner or later, this will be sorted, when you decide to sit down with the Unions. In the meantime, people suffer the consequences. I have no issue with key workers being well paid. My problem is with people thinking they should be pauperised. The reason train drivers are well paid, is because it helps the industry retain people who it takes months, if not years to train, and who can devastate the economy if they are unavailable. The chaos we see with Trans Penine Express is caused by a lack of drivers. If it really was so cushy, this would simply not be the case. 

As a result, I had to get a bus and a tube. This wasn't too bad, but it added 20 minutes to my journey and was not as pleasant a journey. I arrived and was checked in. As my surname is late in the alphabet, I was the last chap to go down for treatment. I've already mentioned how I earwig'd on the other chaps getting a breifing about the process. When you are told "you may experience blood in your urine for a week or two, and in your seman for a couple of months, as well as incontinence and erectile dysfunction" it doesn't fill you with joy. As they take the core samples via the perinneum, there is little chance of infection, compared with the anal biopsy's I've had before. 

When the time came to have the procedure, I noticed one change. I walked down with the anaesthetist. Previously they'd insist on wheeling you, even though you were fit. Then they hook you up to various monitors. The anaesthetist said "I'm going to give you something that may make you feel drowsy".  I was completely sparko in seconds. 

The next thing I knew, I was in recovery. I'd been having a lovely sleep. I was given a cup of tea and a sandwich. I was the given some water. I was quite hungry as I'd not eaten since the previous evening. Then I needed a pee. I was given a cardboard receptor. I found it hard, but not impossible to pass water, but soon managed the required 200ml. I was taken back to the main ward and they checked my blood pressure, which was good. They then called my wife, who came to get me. 

We took a cab back. By the time we were in Mill Hill. I was desperate for the loo. As predicted, there was an amount of blood in the urine, but not too much. A couple of hours later, I needed a poo. When they perform the biopsy, they put an ultrasonic probe up your back passage. They had clearly given a strong local anaesthetic, as my bum was completely numb. It was strange and I wasn't expecting it. 

By Saturday, the blood in the urine had all but stopped. I felt absoluetely shattered, but other than that, I was fine. I did notice that my flow is weaker than it was, but I put this down to bruising and I am not worried. The advice is to refrain from sexual activity for 3-5 days to allow healing, but I don't have any concerns at this time about side effects,  other than blood in the semen. This has persisted for quite a while on previous biopsies. It is visually unpleasant, but not a problem. 

I more or less feel back to normal today. Now it is the wait for results. I am more or less resigned to having some sort of invasive procedure. MRI scans are pretty accurate. The only real question is the timing of it. I am supposed to be going to Lourdes in late July, with our group and I do not want to be suffering the after effects of an operation. Having said that, I'd like whatever it is dealt with ASAP. 

Decisions, Decisions. I am going to try and think about anything but this between now and the 24th when I get the results. I will probably fail miserably.

--- About this feature
For those of you who are regular readers and have read the previous posts on Cancer, there's what this is all about. I write this blog because knowledge is power and if you know what you are dealing with, you have more weapons in the locker to fight it. It is a personal view, I'm not medically qualified. This is for the sole purpose of information for those who are interested.This is the latest installment in my occasional series about how I'm adjusting to living with a big C in my life.  For those of you who aren't, here's a quick summary. I'm 59 years old and in October 2011 I  had a prostate biopsy following two "slightly high" PSA tests - 2.8 & 4.1. The biopsy took ten tissue samples and one of these showed a "low grade cancer" which gave me a 3+3 on the Gleason scale. I was put on a program of active monitoring.  In early February, I got the results of the a PSA test - down to 3.5 and an MRI scan which found absolutely nothing, two more tests in 2012 were at 3.5 and 3.9, in 2013 my test was 4.0, Jan 2014 was 3.8, August 2014 was 4.0,  February 2015 it was  up to 5.5  and my latest in August 2015 was down again at 4.6. In October 2015 I had a transperinial Prostate biopsy, that revealed higher grade cancer and my Gleason score was raised to 3+4 (Small mass + more aggressive cancer). On 22nd Jan 2016 I had HIFU (Hi Intensity Focused Ultrasound) treatment at UCHL). My post procedure PSA in May was 4.0 which was down, followed by 3.7 in August, and 3.5 in October  which means that the direction is positive . However in January the follow up MRI revealed "something unusual which requires investigation" After a follow up biopsy, it appeared this was nothing to worry about. My two most recent PSA tests were Ok (3.7 and 4.6) and an MRI scan in March was very positive. A  PSA in October 2019 was 4.6, so stable and good news, the last in May 2020 was 5.45 a small rise, so worrying, however after a review against the most recent MRI, it was decided that this was fine. My two latest ones in February 2022 was 6.7 and October 2022 was 6.6 was stable. My MRI in March 2022 showed 'a change' so I am now awaiting a biopsy. I had a PSA test in late March which also showed a marked increase to 10.3.
 I've no symptoms apart from needing to wee quite regularly and sadly for a few people, if I'm gonna die soon, it won't be from Prostate cancer. Got the picture?

Rog T Cancer Blog - The PSA test results are in and .....

 So today, I received the results of my latest PSA Test. The previous one in October 2022 had been 6.6 and seen a small decrease, so I was feeling fairly good about it all. That was until I had an MRI scan in mid March. The news wasn't what I hoped. It seemed that a small area had turned malignent. UCH, who are responsible for my care scheduled a PSA test and I received the numbers this morning. It was not what I was hoping for at all. It is now 10.3, an almost 50% increase on last October. It is clear now that things are starting to move in a direction that I am not particularly comfortable with. 

But, I have to be pleased that this has been detected at an early stage and hopefully, the treatment options will be ones that are not too disruptive, life changing or unpleasant. In life, we all have challenges, we all have crosses to bear and I genuinely believe that eevn in the most dire of situations, there are postives we can take out of them. When I was diagnosed in 2011, I made various lifestyle changes. I believe these have given me an enormous benefit. I have taken far better care of myself over the last 12 years. I also became aware of the need to manage my mental health and not get down. Writing this blog has been a big part of that. It has been good to meet people who tell me it has helped.

On a practical note, there are all manner of things which such things make you do. We sorted our wills out before I had treatment in 2016. I will also be sorting out a lasting power of attourney, in the event something bad happens. This is unlikely, but for anyone of 60 or above, it is a sensible step. No one is immortal and it is always sensible to have your affairs in order. My life is not in immediate danger, I am not being over dramatic, just doing what I always do when news is not how I want. I do a quick audit of everything and make sure that the house is in order. More sensible people than me do this as a matter of course anyway, I need a kick in the backside.

I always think of something my father said to me. He said "In life, we always have choices. Sometimes none of the options are pleasant, but when you choose the least unpleasant, thank the Lord that the most unpleasant isn't your only option". I'm going to have a rather unpleasant procedure (a prostate biopsy) and I'm going to most likely have an unpleasant medical follow up procedure (yet to be determined). Not great, but if I'd not had that PSA test in 2011, I'd have learned some time in 2017-18, when I started to observe symptoms. At that point, the cancer would have spread and my options would have been very limited. 

That is why I always urge every man over 50 to get checked. I wrote this song with the False Dots on the subject.

The False Dots · Dont be scared of a finger up your bum

---- About this feature
For those of you who are regular readers and have read the previous posts on Cancer, there's what this is all about. I write this blog because knowledge is power and if you know what you are dealing with, you have more weapons in the locker to fight it. It is a personal view, I'm not medically qualified. This is for the sole purpose of information for those who are interested.This is the latest installment in my occasional series about how I'm adjusting to living with a big C in my life.  For those of you who aren't, here's a quick summary. I'm 59 years old and in October 2011 I  had a prostate biopsy following two "slightly high" PSA tests - 2.8 & 4.1. The biopsy took ten tissue samples and one of these showed a "low grade cancer" which gave me a 3+3 on the Gleason scale. I was put on a program of active monitoring.  In early February, I got the results of the a PSA test - down to 3.5 and an MRI scan which found absolutely nothing, two more tests in 2012 were at 3.5 and 3.9, in 2013 my test was 4.0, Jan 2014 was 3.8, August 2014 was 4.0,  February 2015 it was  up to 5.5  and my latest in August 2015 was down again at 4.6. In October 2015 I had a transperinial Prostate biopsy, that revealed higher grade cancer and my Gleason score was raised to 3+4 (Small mass + more aggressive cancer). On 22nd Jan 2016 I had HIFU (Hi Intensity Focused Ultrasound) treatment at UCHL). My post procedure PSA in May was 4.0 which was down, followed by 3.7 in August, and 3.5 in October  which means that the direction is positive . However in January the follow up MRI revealed "something unusual which requires investigation" After a follow up biopsy, it appeared this was nothing to worry about. My two most recent PSA tests were Ok (3.7 and 4.6) and an MRI scan in March was very positive. A  PSA in October 2019 was 4.6, so stable and good news, the last in May 2020 was 5.45 a small rise, so worrying, however after a review against the most recent MRI, it was decided that this was fine. My two latest ones in February 2022 was 6.7 and October 2022 was 6.6 was stable. My MRI in March 2022 showed 'a change' so I am now awaiting a biopsy. I had a biobsy in late March which also showed a marked increase to 10.3.
 I've no symptoms apart from needing to wee quite regularly and sadly for a few people, if I'm gonna die soon, it won't be from Prostate cancer. Got the picture?