According to the Prostate Cancer Foundation (pcf.org), “approximately one in eight men in the U.S. will be diagnosed with prostate cancer during his lifetime.

Prostate cancer is the second most commonly diagnosed type of cancer in men, after skin cancer. In 2025, it is estimated that more than 313,000 new cases will be diagnosed in the U.S., and more than 1.4 million men were diagnosed globally in 2022.” I am one of those 313,000.

There are three well-established risk factors for increased prostate cancer diagnosis: old age, family history, and being Black. My father was 72 years old when he died from prostate cancer in 1991. I am 72 years old. That and the high PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen) level revealed in my annual checkup led my PCP (Primary Care Practitioner) to refer me to a urologist. The urologist in turn prescribed an MRI and a Prostate Needle Biopsy. (Do not worry. I was knocked out during the procedure.) My biopsy revealed what I feared, that I have Stage II Early Prostate Cancer.

Those are the bad news. The good news is that my tumors are localized. According to PCF, “more than 80% of prostate cancers are detected while the cancer is in the prostate [like mine] or the region around it, so treatment success rates are high compared to most other types of cancer in the body. The 5-year overall survival rates in the United States for men diagnosed with local or regional prostate cancer exceed 99%. In other words, the chances of men dying from their prostate cancer is generally low.” My urologist extended my survival rate to 10 years and gleefully assured me that I am most likely to die from something else before I die from prostate cancer.

Then there is treatment. In my case, I have three major treatment options: surgery (removal of the prostate), radiation therapy, and active surveillance. Both my urologist and the oncologist that he referred me to agreed that both surgery and radiation therapy are too drastic for one in my condition, considering the side effects (sexual or otherwise). Instead, they recommended active surveillance. They agreed with PCF that, “for men with very low- or low-risk disease [like me], active surveillance is now the preferred standard of care.” If all goes well, active surveillance will make sure that I stay in good condition and that any adverse changes will be dealt with immediately. My PSA level has increased a bit since my first diagnosis, so my urologist prescribed more bloodwork and another MRI. I continue to keep watch on my condition and take Tamsulosin daily to treat the symptoms of my enlarged prostate.

I am a cancer survivor. But I am not alone. In addition to my doctors, I received help and support from my nuclear family and from my boyfriend, Ron Farago. I also received inspiration from groups like the Pink Nail Society (pinknailsociety.org), a South Florida advocacy group founded by Stephen Tendrich to “give prostate cancer the finger.” The Pink Nail Society took part in Wilton Manors Stonewall Pride Parade and held fundraising events such as the recent Pink Nail Ball. Though my cancerous life is not without challenges, I am, despite it all, most fortunate.

Jesse Monteagudo is a freelance writer, journalist, writer and activist who is a proud member of South Florida's LGBTQ+ community for almost half a century. His first regular column, "The Book Nook" (1977-2006) was syndicated in a dozen LGBT publications in the United States and Canada and was considered an authority on LGBT literature. Jesse also wrote extensively about LGBT history, plays, movies and (for Toronto's The Guide) a regular column about gay adult cinema. His current, personal opinion column, "Jesse's Journal," began its career in the 1980s and has been published or posted in numerous newspapers, magazines and websites throughout the United States. As an activist, Jesse has served on the Boards of a dozen LGBT organizations. He lives in Plantation, Florida.