Last Monday I got the TURP surgery done on my prostate by a doctor from Eugene’s Oregon Urology Institute. I learned on October 31 of last year that the procedure could benefit me, though this isn’t completely assured. If you’re crazy enough to want to know the details, they’re in a HinesSight blog post.
I figure that I might as well try to glean some philosophical implications about life from my surgical experience. So here goes…
In the three months between when I got the go-ahead for the surgery, and the actual surgery, I thought about all the things that could go wrong. Such as, in late January there could be an ice or snow storm that would keep my wife and me from driving to the Eugene hospital. My insurance might not agree that the surgery was justified and refuse to pay for it. The required blood test might show something that would cause the surgery to be postponed. To name but a few worries.
None of those concerns happened. So I spent quite a bit of time fretting about possible futures that turned out to be fantasies. This raises the question, why do people, which obviously includes me, engage in so much anticipating of undesirable future events when these are so unlikely to occur? Hard to say. Maybe it’s an attempt to control the uncontrollable. Maybe it’s an evolutionary result of anxious early humans passing on their genes better than laid-back early humans, since worrying about a tiger in the brush has more survival value than thinking, “it’s just the wind blowing some branches.”
I’d never spent a night in the hospital during my entire life. I’d been told to expect a one-night stay after the surgery. Being an old man who is set in his ways, I made a list of everything I wanted to take to the hospital. Basically it included all that I’m used to doing here at home before I go to bed and after I get up in the morning. Books that I read. Snacks that I eat. The vitamins and supplements that I had to stop taking a week before the surgery. Ear plugs for sleeping if it was noisy. Eyeshade for sleeping if it was too bright.
My bag ended up containing more stuff than some young people put in a pack for traveling around Europe. It had to be left in our car when I went in for the surgery admission, as that was the hospital rule. When my doctor came in to see me during the pre-surgery prep time. one of the first things he said was, you’re probably not going to need to stay in the hospital overnight. I asked why. He said, it’s easier to cancel a hospital room reservation than to make one at the last moment. I was thrilled, since I wasn’t looking forward to a hospital stay.
Another worry that didn’t happen. Of course, I needed to pack a bag regardless. However, as noted above, I could have done this without envisioning all the bad things that could occur during a stay in the hospital. It would have been just as easy, and more pleasant, to picture all the good things that could happen. It seems to me that we humans have a negativity bias that, for most of us, is more powerful than a positivity bias.
Regarding consciousness, I lost mine temporarily. That’s the nature of anesthesia. I’ve had two other outpatient surgeries, and numerous colonoscopies. In each of them, including the prostate surgery, I’m struck by how instantly the anesthesiologist is able to take me from being conscious and aware to unconscious and clueless about what’s happening around me. One moment I was watching the people in the operating room go about their pre-surgical duties; the next moment I was hearing a nurse in the recovery area say, “looks like you’re awake.”
Lots of people, most people, probably, believe that their consciousness will survive bodily death. Some part of them will live on after the body dies. It’s difficult to understand why, if this were true, anesthesia causes a complete loss of consciousness. If consciousness is immaterial, why is it so easily extinguished temporarily by a material substance acting on the brain? Why doesn’t anesthesia produce a supernatural experience that points to consciousness being independent of the brain? I’ve never heard a persuasive answer to these questions, which is one reason I’m an atheist.
Lastly, what made my surgery experience considerably more pleasant was the communications I had with nurses, doctors, and other staff that went beyond our roles of patient and medical provider. The humor. The personal stories. The compassion. The good wishes. The honesty. When I was envisioning how the surgery would go, that crude “thought experiment” necessarily failed to include an important part of the surgical experience: the actual people I’d be interacting with at the hospital. As soon as I walked into the surgery admission area, I felt more relaxed, because here were competent, caring people who would be taking care of me.
On a broader note, I found that the closer I came to the day of the surgery, the better I felt. Actually doing what needed to be done in preparation for the surgery was much easier than imagining what I needed to do. Actual reality can be dealt with. Imagined reality can’t. I had minimal difficulty handling every concrete step toward last Monday’s surgery. It was the fantasized steps that caused me problems, as those were only in my mind, not the physical world. There’s nothing inherently wrong with imagination. But mistaking it for reality can be decidedly unproductive.
I won’t begin to know how much benefit I’ll get from the surgery until the recovery period is over. For now, I’m doing my best to stay in the present moment as much as possible — though this is difficult for the worrying part of my mind. One positive bit of news I got today: the pathology report of the piece of my prostate that got removed in the surgery came back negative, benign. So I don’t have prostate cancer. I was surprised by how much better I felt after reading the pathology report. That told me that I’d been doing some semi-conscious worrying about it that I was barely aware of.
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Brian, You must be more of a stubborn man than I ever imagined! 8 years on a Catheter! Holy Moly! 3 months was enough for me. I told my Urologist I’d rather be dead than live the rest of my life with a urine bag strapped to my leg while riding my Harley! I had many unpleasant experiences during only the 3 months with urine catheters, such as one popping the drain valve in bed, and waking up drenched beside my wife!! Not pleasant. So I know you must have 8 years of catheter horror stories?
Any way, the good news is, I had my TURP in April 2022, and was in the hospital over night. Next morning, catheter removed, and I peed like a race horse the first time in many years. I felt the happiest I’d been in many years. I went home with out the catheter. Peed a little blood, which reduced daily for about a week, as did the minor burning while urinating, It took about 2 weeks to quit bleeding totally, and burning a little longer, depending on what I drank. I only drink water, and coffee.
So, it will be 4 years , post surgery, April 2026, and I still pee with full flow, with out any problems, like a Teen ager. I never had any leakage. I continued taking Flomax a year after surgery, only because I had a year’s supply , but didn’t need to, my Urologist told me. So, for me, after being diagnosed at 60 for enlarged prostate, and suffering with it for the next 20 years, I wish I would have had TURP at age 70, with out waiting until 80. But I checked my self in to ER on my birthday, at age 80, completely blocked up, with 103 fever, Sepsis, and my basket ball pregnant belly ready to explode! That was my first catheter experience, which included 4 changes until TURP to now, which has been like being reincarnated to a new life, plus I had double cataract surgeries 18 months ago, So, with 84th birthday 2 weeks away, and I can still pee, and see, I am anxious for Spring to arrive do I can get back out on my Harley. So, your MUCH better days are ahead of you. I hope your healing will be as good as mine was .
As for Colonoscopies, last one I had about 10 years ago, I left my body, and floated to the ceiling, 50 feet away, and watched the Doctor and Anesthesiologist do his Rotor rooter to my butt stuck out of the blanket while I was in a fetal position. I actually felt the pain when he removed several palps. But, Atheists would never believe such a story, as you have never believed Charan Singh visited me in the Astral realm During meditation either. Oh well, each to his own. But Good luck with your new life, liberated from your catheter. I hope you will also have an experience to liberate you from your Atheist beliefs before you die, so that you won’t be caught off guard when you find out you NEVER die, when your physical body finally does. You still have time to discover it, if you use my Meditation Technique for Neophytes I shared here, that you were also gifted by Charan Singh as I was. But if you managed your catheter for 8 years, it doesn’t surprise me that you will continue managing your Atheist beliefs until you are proven wrong at death of your physical body.
Jim, to clarify, aside from the first week or two after my 2017 urinary retention episode, I’ve used intermittent self-catheterization five times a day. That’s much easier than, as you said, having a urine bag strapped to your leg, which I’m having to use now for a few more days. I’ve been carrying pocket-sized catheters around with me and just need an individual restroom or even a stall to do my thing.
Good that you got your prostate sorted – hope in time it is greatly improved. Perhaps I should go for the same, but having ongoing cancer treatment, an operation at the moment is not on my immediate agenda.
Your experience here is interesting; at one point, you say: “So I spent quite a bit of time fretting about possible futures that turned out to be fantasies.” Well, yes, we all do spend a lot of time mulling things over and fretting, though, how I see things at the moment, this barrage of thoughts seems to arise automatically without a ‘me’ causing them. And you add: “Maybe it’s an attempt to control the uncontrollable.” Exactly, that is how it seems – or is.
Regarding consciousness, OBEs, etc., I went through a period some years ago when I not only floated out of my body but also travelled around the countryside, looking down at the whole scenes below. I was able to ‘push’ on the edges of the scenes and move them on. Interestingly, I noticed that the scenes were local and seemed to show them in the past – my past – so they were, I believe, memories being somehow recalled in this dramatic way.
Anyway, the mechanics of this floating is a mystery to me, though I would favour the many theories that such experiences are neurological, although, at the moment, no one knows. And in a very real way, it doesn’t matter. All I can really know is what arises for me now – and this happens without any ‘me’ doing anything.
Ron E.
Sorry to hear about your ongoing cancer. Not wishing to interfere or influence your opinions but I do watch Dr John Campbell’s YouTube channel frequently. He is a retired English doctor and I respect him massively.
Im going to send 2 links featuring his views on Fenbendazolle in treating all sorts of cancers.
As he points out there have been no clinical trials on Fenbendazolle. Why ? There is a lot of anecdotal evidence of its success. (And as he points out the plural of anecdote is hypothesis… and there is a testable hypothesis of these claims. So why no trials ? The drug has not been patented, so there isn’t the opportunity to cover costs and reap the rewards if it’s successful.
https://youtu.be/RHxCC5d23Eo?si=5wRXPTbXmWt7hFRf
And
https://youtu.be/X9x02-SB1sk?si=6zPMpIcfwOJ27Cjx
Regards and best wishes
Eric
(Another lapsed satsangi : met Charan 1970 in India, initiated 1973 in NZ. Tried hard for a good 20 years, and continued meditating until February 2024, when I got into Yoganda’s SRF teachings. Got initiated 1 year 2 months ago. Involves Kriya Yoga, which is the magic bit.)
And then there’s Ivermectin
Mank thanks Eric, much appreciated. I finished chemo last year and am in remission. Right now am on immunotherapy – just to zap any re-emerging cancer cells. Thanks again.
Eric.
I used to watch Dr Campbell’s videos and thought that he was good but I have revised my opinion of his competence and honesty after watching Dr Susan Oliver’s Back to the Science YouTube videos about him.
The pineal gland is part of the equation and it’s physical but you won’t miss it when it’s gone due to death. Hopefully you won’t miss any body parts because hopefully you can join Maharaji in the land of permanent bliss. These words Pineal and bliss are connected, But I take pills to be able to piss.
My good wishes, Brian, for a quick and full recovery.
Glad to hear your surgery went well. And I know of few joys greater than being discharged from a hospital.
Wishing you a healthy, wholesome and speedy recovery Brian💖🙏✨
Ron E.
I’m very glad to hear that Ron, keep up the good work.
Ron E.
Wish you well, recovery and healing vibes✨🙏✨
Read through the comments just now, as opposed to the post proper. My good wishes to you, as well, Ron. Even though good wishes per se are no more effectual than are prayers: but still, as far as the thought behind them, and for what that is worth.
Brian and Ron
Need not to worry
Things will be better and hereafter
Best Wishes to both of you
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