poured out before bed
His prostate is markedly enlarged, irregular, rock hard. Dr. O’Urology catches my eye and shakes her head slightly as I withdraw and begin degloving.
“Mr. Jones, we’ll go ahead and step out, we’ll be just outside the door so you can just crack it when you’re put back together.” She tosses her gloves and pulls the privacy curtain. “There’s a box of tissue and a bottle of hand sanitizer on the table so you can get that pesky lubricating jelly off your bottom and clean up a bit.”
We step outside and lean against the wall across from the exam room. Dr. O’Urology sighs.
“Well, unfortunately, that was a classic cT4 prostate – did you feel it? The entire gland is involved, and you could feel irregularities all around the gland that likely represent invasion of the local structures. The Gleason Score is maxed out at 10 and his PSA is in the 200s. You know that puts him in the high risk category. And of course, there are all those little boney mets we saw on CT. It’s justs too bad. He’s such a nice man – and so funny.”
I nod, but the sudden opening of the exam room door interrupts my reply.
Mr. Jones stands in the doorway, one hand on his cocked hip, the other on the frame, his legs crossed.
“Holy Moses, you two. That was more jelly than I spread on my peanut butter toast in the morning – and I like jelly!” He shakes his head in mock disgust as we file in to discuss the sorts of preserves available to sweeten the time he’s left.