Fourteen months after being diagnosed with Stage Four prostate cancer — as is the case with former U.S. President Joe Biden — today I was admitted to the Vancouver General Hospital for a three and a half hour radical robotic prostatectomy, after doctors at VGH discovered — following an MRI, a bone scan and a biopsy (more than one actually — that, like Joe Biden I had a Gleason score of 9 …

For the past 9 months, I have been subjected to a number of biopsies and regular injections, and participated in the Gun Study — a multi-centre North American clinical trial headed up by the Vancouver General Hospital’s Dr. Martin Gleave, the head of the Prostate Clinic at VGH.

Early on, it  was determined that I must have my prostate removed employing the radical robotic prostatecomy procedure.

Over the past months, I have taken a variety of medications — Apalalutamide, Zytiga and Prednisone — which has effectively removed my sexuality and turned me into a eunuch, which is to say a male who has been chemically castrated, and with the removal of my prostate surgically castrated.

This morning after being transported to Vancouver General Hospital by my friend, Susan Walsh — spouse of my friend, the late Michael Walsh, who for 50 years was the lead film critic at The Province newspaper — who accompanied me to Admitting, after which I was escorted to a bed in a ward in the south tower of the Jim Pattison Pavilion, on floor T6.

As you read this, I will be in surgery, a three and a half hour major surgery where an extensive, complex procedure will see my abdomen “opened up”, which is to say, my surgery involves entering a major body cavity ( in this case the abdomen). My anaesthesiologist told me that, under his supervision, I will be given a general anesthesia that will require an at least initial 72-hour long recovery period, requiring an overnight stay tonight, or if complications arise, an extended hospital stay. In any event, my anesthesiologist told me that, “Raymond, you will be ‘stoned’ for at least 72 hours.” Fun times ahead, I guess.

I will be left with three incisions — a three and a half inch vertical incision at the bottom of the public bone, and two more somewhat lesser incisions, top right and top left. I was told I must not lift anything heavier than 10 pounds post surgery, less the incisions rupture, creating wound dehiscence, which occurs when a surgical incision reopens, where internal organs might protrude through the wound.

Should things to well with the surgery — which my family physician, Dr. Brad Fritz, Dr. Mannas, my surgeon (and other of his colleagues in the Prostate Clinic), and my anesthesiologist believes is most probable — I will be picked up from hospital at 10am on Saturday, by my friend the every beauteous, incredibly bright, politically astute, accomplished and loving Meaghan (and her incredibly great football (British football) loving husband Alasdair, and their two children, Fergus and Elliot, who are the most zen children I’ve ever met — needless to say, I love both children (a reciprocal affection, it would seem), as I do Alasdair and Meaghan.

Count me as one very lucky and grateful individual.

I will spend the weekend in bed at home, attended to by Susan, by my Co-op neighbours — again, count me as the luckiest man in the world that Jason, Heather, Laurie and Kevin, Tatiana, Judi, Jette, Alex, Alexandra and Jordan, and all of my other fellow Broadview Housing Co-op members are possessed of an uncommon humanity, and a dedication to building a better and more loving world.

Post surgery I will have a catheter inserted, for a period of one week — rather than the five plus weeks I had a very painful catheter inserted in March and April. Like ouch. Julia, the registered nurse who has given me regular injections over the past 9 months (“Pants down, Mr. Tomlin. Bend over now.”) will remove the catheter on Friday, November 7th. My friend, and personal health saviour, Kelly Ryan (we provide “co-parenting” of Teague) will travel with me to the Gordon and Leslie Diamond Centre for removal of the catheter, and then ferry me home.

Teague the dog, only the most loving dog in the world

There will be a one-year post surgery recovery period during which I will have to wear incontinence underwear. Friends of mine who have had prostate surgery tell me that the worst of the incontinence occurs during the first three or four months.

Now that I’m off the prostate medication, it is likely that my energy and vitality will return, affording me the opportunity to provide more intensive coverage of next year’s Vancouver municipal election.

My support for 46-year-young Vancouver Liberals Mayoral candidate Kareem Allam — Vancouver’s Zohran Mamdani (ssshhh, don’t tell anyone) remains strong, as I hope to write (extensively) in the months to come.