George Bell

Clarksville, GA

Prostate Cancer Survivor

I work as a robotics technician at Mt. Vernon Mills. In 1996, the company started a wellness clinic. For the first couple years, I didn’t bother going, even though you could get all kinds of screenings, have your blood pressure checked and other things. Then, I learned you could be checked for prostate cancer, so, out of curiosity, I decided to go. I went for several years with nothing unusual happening. Then, in 2001, after I’d gone through the screenings at the clinic, I received a telephone call telling me I needed to see a urologist.

When I asked why, they said my PSA had been the same every year and now it had risen. So, I went to the urologist, and a prostate biopsy showed I had cancer. I thought, “How bad can it be? It’s only been a year since I was last tested.”

The urologist told me the cancer was contained but that it was near the outer edge of the prostate. He said I needed to do something right away. My wife and I talked and prayed about the options, and I decided I’d have a radical prostatectomy. Six months after the surgery, my PSA was going up again. I was told the cancer had apparently metastasized somewhere.

For about a year, I went to about seven different doctors who poked, prodded and tested me – every kind of test you can imagine – but they could never find anything definitive as to where the cancer was. Everything they did, all the biopsies, all the tests, came out negative, but, “you have cancer,” I was told. The urologist started me on Lupron injections in 2002. I began taking these once every three or four months.

I was on Lupron injections from 2002-2005. They made me so sick. I had a hard time working. I’d break out in cold sweats. I couldn’t eat, was losing weight, became weak, depressed. I started going to other doctors. I even went to one recommended by the American Cancer Society. He took me off everything for six months to see what would happen. When I went back, my PSA had risen from .67 to 4.3. He told me I definitely had cancer, even if it couldn’t be located, and I’d have to stay on Lupron or I’d die. Of course, they also tell you the body will become immune to the Lupron over time, so you’ll die anyway.

I lost hope. I came home one night and told my wife, “I’m done. I’m not taking any more shots. This is the Lord’s body. He can do with it what He pleases.” Later that night, she went to bed, and I fell asleep on the sofa. A thunderstorm woke me up, and the television was still on. Running across the screen were the words “Cancer Treatment Centers of America” (CTCA) and the phone number. I jotted it down.

After talking to my wife, I called CTCA and talked to an oncology information specialist. It took some convincing by both CTCA and my wife, but I finally decided to fly to Tulsa and see what, if anything, could be done. I’d planned on being away from home three days.

When we arrived, I had tests, met with doctors and clinicians. They treat the whole person at CTCA, so they wrote down everything that was bothering me emotionally, mentally, psychologically, physically, spiritually. We talked about everything. They injected me with something and the radiologist was talking some kind of pictures every few hours. By the eighth day, I said I had to go home to take care of the dog, pay bills, etc. That was a Saturday.

On Monday, CTCA called and told me they’d found the cancer and said, “You don’t have to live like that any longer.” They told me this was a treatable thing. I could hardly believe it. In all this time, this was the first time someone had said LIVE to me … all I’d heard in Georgia was that I was going to die. But they also told me I needed to come to Tulsa for seven weeks for treatment.

I didn’t know how that could be possible. I thought I’d lose my job … and everything else, because I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills. Then someone at work started talking to me about insurance. I discovered I had a cancer policy from one of the insurance policies my wife and I had. I was able to take off work, and I came to CTCA. I had TomoTherapy® HI-ART radiation treatment for seven weeks. I finished treatment in April 2005. On my six month check-up, my PSA was at .01. Now, I only come to CTCA every six months for check-ups. And I’m feeling great.

To me, what they do in Georgia is antiquated compared to what they do here at CTCA. What they have in Georgia doesn’t work. It took the technology and machinery here at CTCA to even find my cancer, so they’d know what to do with it. I went to four different cancer centers in Georgia before I found CTCA, and those included the ones with the best reputations. They couldn’t find my cancer.

Not only that, here at CTCA, they empowered me as the patient. It’s all about me at this place. They tell you when you walk in here that no one has the right to tell you when you’re going to die … only God knows that. They tell you that you’ve been diagnosed with cancer and here are your options for treatment. You, the patient, are part of the decision process. They leave no stone unturned in their care at CTCA. They’re concerned about me psychologically, physically and spiritually. In Georgia, I got biopsies with written results and nothing helpful following.

At CTCA, I found hope. I encourage people to get out here to CTCA. I tell them this place isn’t going to burn them like the places and doctors they’ve been seeing. I know God led me to CTCA, and, for me, in many ways, God has made this cancer to be a blessing.