Before I get to today’s journal entry, I want to give two bits of information about me. The first is that although today’s entry addresses a medical condition I have, I want to reassure my friends and those who read my journal that I am OK. My condition is not life threatening. I am receiving the best possible medical care. Furthermore, I am feeling good and strong and am able to fully participate in all of my usual activities.

Secondly, this entry mentions something about myself that I don’t usually offer for conversation. There are people who have known me for many years who do not know this detail about me. It isn’t that I have any reason to hide it. Rather it is for me a personal commitment. I have no reason to convince others to believe what I believe. I’ll try to address this second item first.

I am a pacifist. I have been a pacifist for all of my adult life. When the time came for me to register for the draft at a time when the United States still had an active draft, I applied for and, after an appeal process, received the status of 1-O or conscientious objector. Had I been drafted, I would have gone to alternative service rather than military service. In my case, the service would probably have been at Intermountain Children’s Home in Helena, Montana. However, although I received a low draft lottery number, completed my service physical and was ready to take a leave from my college education to serve, the draft was suspended before any person in my age cohort was drafted. Ours was the first group not to face the draft after decades of an active draft. Not long after I became an official conscientious objector, that bit of my identity raised eyebrows in a church where I was serving as a youth ministry intern. There were some members who feared that I might try to recruit youth to become conscientious objectors. The pastor of the congregation went to bat for me and defended the decision to offer me the position. The pressure was shifted from me to him and he lost his job in the aftermath. It was a different time. The Vietnam War and protests against the war created divisions in communities. Ministers lost their jobs over their beliefs about the war. For me pacifism was a personal choice and not something I wanted to impose on anyone else. While I believe that I have remained true to that pacifism throughout my life, it is not something that I have often addressed publicly. I have served veterans and their families with respect. My daughter is married to a career Air Force member. I make no judgment about others’ decisions.

Yesterday a young doctor had an uncomfortable task to perform. I’m sure that it is a part of medical practice that doctors don’t enjoy. It is, however, a necessary task and it goes with the job for many medical professionals. The job was to inform a patient of test results that revealed the presence of cancer. While there are many different kinds of cancer and in this particular case the kind of cancer was not an immediate threat to the patient, it is difficult to know how a patient will react to the news. Cancer is a tough term in our society. There are a lot of people who have known someone who has died from an aggressive cancer. However, not every cancer is an aggressive cervical cancer, or brain cancer, or lung cancer. There are types of cancer that are effectively treated. There are patients who can live cancer-free after treatment. And there are forms of cancer that typically grow slowly and do not demand an immediate response. While a doctor does not want to alarm a patient, the diagnosis must be made in order for treatment to proceed. Furthermore, the patient knows that a biopsy has been taken. The patient is coming in with the clear mission to find out: “Is it cancer?” Delivering the news is one of the tough challenges of being a doctor.

This doctor is young and although she has the latest education and is very competent in her profession and has enough experience to be confident in her practice, her patients don’t see her as a peer. She treats a lot of people who are much older than she. Nonetheless, she was graceful, kind, and generous in her delivery of the news and reassuring in her openness to questions and conversation.

The news that I have prostate cancer is not the first time that the “c” word has come to me. I have had two biopsies that revealed squamous cell carcinoma that required simple out-patient surgeries to remove the cancerous cells. I have pre-cancerous lesions treated at least twice each year. Squamous cell carcinoma is not life threatening when closely monitored and quickly treated. It only spreads to other parts of the body if it is left untreated for long periods of time.

I knew that a doctor would not have ordered a prostate biopsy if there wasn’t a reason to suspect cancer. But somehow, I didn’t expect this diagnosis. Men my age often have enlarged prostates and there are many different treatment options for some of the problems that develop with normal aging. The news threw me a little bit. Fortunately, Susan was by my side when I went to the consultation with the doctor and I have the support of a loving family and friends.

While I intend to use the best medical advice and treatment possible and I am confident that I will be able to comply with treatment instructions and have a positive outcome, I have decided that I will be very careful in the language I use when thinking or speaking of this condition. I am not going to use any war language. This is not a battle for me. I am not out to win over cancer.

These are cells in my body, made by my body and I will live with them. Some cells might be removed by surgery. I accept that. I am, however, going to be a conscious objector to thinking about this as battle. I’ll find other words to speak of my treatment. It may only be a matter of language, but it is language that is important to me. This condition will not be the cause of my death. I have every intention of living as fully and loving as deeply as I am able. I know that I am no longer a young person. I know that I am mortal. I also know that I am fortunate to live in a time when there are many treatment options. Prostate surgery is minimally invasive, performed by a robot with the use of a laparoscope. The cancer I have is slow growing and I have time to consider options and make reasoned and informed decisions about care. I have access to very well-trained and experienced doctors. Most importantly I am surrounded by love and prayer.

With love and prayer I go forward to explore new life that is given to me each day with deep gratitude.