My dad is over the age of fifty, and while I kept reminding him that it is extremely important that he go and get a routine check for prostate cancer, he kept insisting that he did not display any prostate cancer symptoms. Around and around we went, debating and discussing this issue until he eventually relented and went down to speak with the doctor, only going when I made the appointment for him.
It was definitely a good thing that he did, since even though he didn't really have any signs of prostate cancer symptoms, the doctor did find some cancer. The good news was that we had caught it in time and the cancer had not yet progressed and the doctors were certain that it could be treated with no complications.
All of the family was reassured to hear this news and even my dad who is usually hard as nails, broke down and thanked me for forcing him to go in to get tested. It was a touching moment for both of us and helped us come closer together, and I was somewhat surprised that it took a horrible disease to help us communicate with each other.
My dad started his prostate cancer treatments and everything was going wonderfully, but then we found out that his brother who was also in his fifties was hesitant to go and have a check-up. Uncle John is three years older than my father and as stubborn as a mule, and he absolutely insisted that since he was not showing any symptoms of cancer there was no need for him to go and get checked out by a doctor. This was wildly frustrating both to me and my father because the evidence was staring him right in the face that sometimes symptoms do not show up in every case and that a routine exam was just good common sense.
It eventually took his wife, my aunt to force him to go to the doctor after threatening him with nothing but cold tomato soup and warm tap water for dinner for the next decade. In this case, he didn't have any cancer, which gave all of us another reason to rejoice, and even though he grumbled about having had to go to the doctor, he thanked his wife, my father, and me for caring enough about him to goad him into doing something for his help.
It was definitely a good thing that he did, since even though he didn't really have any signs of prostate cancer symptoms, the doctor did find some cancer. The good news was that we had caught it in time and the cancer had not yet progressed and the doctors were certain that it could be treated with no complications.
All of the family was reassured to hear this news and even my dad who is usually hard as nails, broke down and thanked me for forcing him to go in to get tested. It was a touching moment for both of us and helped us come closer together, and I was somewhat surprised that it took a horrible disease to help us communicate with each other.
My dad started his prostate cancer treatments and everything was going wonderfully, but then we found out that his brother who was also in his fifties was hesitant to go and have a check-up. Uncle John is three years older than my father and as stubborn as a mule, and he absolutely insisted that since he was not showing any symptoms of cancer there was no need for him to go and get checked out by a doctor. This was wildly frustrating both to me and my father because the evidence was staring him right in the face that sometimes symptoms do not show up in every case and that a routine exam was just good common sense.
It eventually took his wife, my aunt to force him to go to the doctor after threatening him with nothing but cold tomato soup and warm tap water for dinner for the next decade. In this case, he didn't have any cancer, which gave all of us another reason to rejoice, and even though he grumbled about having had to go to the doctor, he thanked his wife, my father, and me for caring enough about him to goad him into doing something for his help.
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