VALPARAISO — In 2003, a then-67-year-old Tom Mallette felt perfectly healthy as he headed to his yearly doctor’s appointment.
But on that visit, his blood work found he had an elevated prostate specific antigen (PSA), which can indicate prostate cancer.
A normal PSA level is a 4. Tom’s level was later found to be at an 8. Doctors diagnosed him with aggressive prostate cancer.
Nine years later, he still has aggressive prostate cancer. He said he would never have lived so long without his wife of 30 years, Pat. The couple continues to fight the cancer together even now that Tom mainly is on palliative care as the cancer has moved into some of his bones.
“Between the two of us we have held each other up,” Tom said at his home in Valparaiso. “My wife has been a rock, an absolute rock. After I’m not interested, she deals with it. She delves into all of the latest findings. She can write a book about cancer at this stage.”
After hearing his diagnosis and the prognosis —that without treatment he was likely to die in two years — Tom’s first concern was for Pat and how she would fare if left a widow.
“I’ve seen other people do quite well and others fall absolutely apart, and I was not going to be the one to fall apart,” Tom said.
Pat considers herself a strong woman, but even strong women can cry, she said. For her, the initial diagnosis, hearing Tom would undergo chemotherapy and learning he was in palliative care, were some of the worst news of her life.
Every time they get bad news, she gives herself a “pity poor Patty party,” as she calls it. She cries for about 24 hours, and after her time is up she throws herself into action.
She has organized three binders — “Tom’s Cancer History,” “A Caregiver’s Prostate Cancer Journal,” and “Provenge” — fat with papers and memories that chronicle their lives over the past nine years.
Tom’s cancer history
The first binder, “Tom’s Cancer History,” is clinical, stuffed with every medical result from his many tests and treatments.
Tom first had 155 radiated seeds put into his prostate because of the treatment’s shorter recovery time and smaller chance of causing urination or defecation problems. No matter what treatment he chose, erectile dysfunction was one of the costs, one that Pat felt the brunt of.
“It was tragic,” she said simply.
Radiation treatment every weekday for six weeks was used to burn away the cancer. The aftereffects “smarted,” Tom said. He got his first set of tattoos, markers for where the beams should aim for each time.
The regimen worked for a time, and Tom went into remission in 2006. The couple took a trip to the Everglades and the headwaters of the Mississippi River.
But that peace was short-lived. Three straight blood tests showed Tom’s PSA level was climbing.
They tried hypertonic oxygen therapy as well as hormone injections, which he still undergoes every month. The estrogen gave him hot flashes, a pot belly, and love handles. His oldest granddaughter was going through puberty at the time, and the family joked about who would need the first training bra.
Tom had the first of a number of bladder surgeries to continue urinating properly.
In 2008, the cancer moved to his lower spine. He began getting injections in his abdomen, which he still gets every month. In March 2009, he started chemotherapy, which sapped strength from his body as well as his mind. He became forgetful, his numerous stories trapped in his mind.
Pat said her strapping military man was gone, replaced by a shuffling older man who used a cane. Only a few of the effects reversed when chemotherapy ended.
Tom, who was a gifted jewel worker after he retired from the Air Force, could no longer work with delicate gems; his hands shook too much.
He tried a combination of steroids, medication, and oral chemotherapy, but nothing seemed to work.
In October 2012, the cancer had spread to parts of Tom’s spine, hips, rib and left leg.
A caregiver’s journal
Although the second binder is also about Tom, it’s mostly Pat’s story during the past nine years. There are photos of Tom, always smiling, whether he’s standing next to the Great Wall of China or covered up in an armchair undergoing chemotherapy.
She wrote not only about how Tom felt during his treatments, but also about her experiences caring for him and watching him struggle.
Pat has made prostate cancer awareness and prevention her own cause.
“I have a mission and it’s to nag every man I know 40 and older to demand that he be checked,” Pat said.
It frustrates her to know that men don’t ask for the exam that could ultimately save their life because of fear or misplaced manliness.
“I think it’s insane,” Pat said. “We need to be proactive in taking care of our health. Not reactive.”
Prostate cancer is thought of as an “old man’s disease,” Pat said, but young men can get it, too, and it tends to be more aggressive. Imagine dealing with erectile dysfunction at 30 years old, she said.
“It’s a fact of life. Every man will get prostate cancer if they live long enough,” Pat said.
“Provenge”
The final binder, labeled “Provenge,” outlines the Mallettes’ next move.
Provenge is a special treatment that involves taking a patient’s immune cells and “training” them to attack prostate cancer cells.
“There are still some arrows in the arsenal,” Pat said.
It’s with that spirit of optimism and thankfulness, that Pat has launched “Operation Gratitude,” a daily effort to be thankful for what’s good in her life.
“When you think along those lines, you’re grateful for breathing,” she said. “You’re grateful for living.”
Tom finds gratitude his own way. In his travels, he’s seen many people living in terrible conditions but still happy and willing to share what little they have with others. It’s simply a matter of appreciating what you already have, he said.
“We have moments of absolute joy just over the fact that we’re together.”
Contact Daily News Staff Writer Lauren Delgado at 850-315-4445 or ldelgado@nwfdailynews.com. Follow her on Twitter @LaurenDnwfdn.