Thursday, January 23, 2014, 12:30pm (CST): I am working in Panama City. I have some interviews and I don’t even know I have missed a call. I check my voicemail. “Hello this is “Judy” from Dr. Rascal’s office. We received your blood work back and your PSA levels are a little higher than we like to see them. The Doctor recommends you have your blood checked again at a urologist’s office…call back…questions…bye…”. I call her back and clear it up as much as I can.

The good news is, I have a soon to be good friend who is a urologist at home in Birmingham. I send him a text message with what little bit I know but with a very clear sense of panic and urgency. The emotion of the moment is drawn from not understanding what in the hell a PSA is and what the hell PSA isn’t. No clue. I coincidentally got Eric’s number from a mutual friend. Eric was looking for a new cell phone and wanted to make sure he got it from Cellular Sales.  I had Eric’s cell phone number saved in my phone for less than two weeks since his text. Eric is my new urologist! Keep in mind, this is all happening through text messaging.

Me: Just got a call from my doc (Rascal) telling me my blood work has elevated levels (?) in regards cancer and my prostate…how quick can you help me get an appointment? PSA?

Eric: I can see you as early as this afternoon at homewood or tomorrow at Trinity office. Or anytime next week. Don’t be too alarmed.

The next few texts were ironing out an appointment which I set for the following Tuesday. His “don’t be too alarmed” was perfect. Not dismissive but consoling and offered just enough comfort for me to finish my trip and get home with no anxiety.

All of this is going on while I am working with Jason, my business partner and my “work husband”. He was the right guy to be there because he didn’t know what I was talking about and therefore had zero chance of getting excited or showing concern. I mean that in the best way. He’s a calm logical and sensible man. There’s not enough information to warrant emotion without understanding.

Back to Birmingham. I’m not telling my wife. Michelle will worry and I don’t even know what is going on. I plugged it into a very common search engine….Now I know more, but I don’t really know what I know more about. I decide not to obsess over this and put it aside until Tuesday.

I play music. I have been playing acoustic “gigs” with Mike Frazier for 21 years. I have a gig the day after I get the call. Friday will be an excellent distraction with one of the best friends I have ever had and closest confidant. It will be good to share this info with Mike, who by day calls on urologist for his pharmaceutical job and actually introduced me to Eric. Coincidence? I think not. Mike is a master of communication and offers a little more explanation as well as therapy.

I’m good now. Let’s rock!