This past birthday September 30 was especially memorable, because the urologist phoned to inform me that I have intermediate prostate cancer. It wasn’t especially how I would recommend telling someone, on the phone that is, but he followed up by inviting me to discuss it in person a week later. I would have preferred if he had waited for our in person meeting, but I’m not a surgeon.

I confess I hadn’t planned to attend mass on my birthday, but that phone call at 10 A.M. left me no choice. When I’m faced with major shock I find going to mass puts me at the foot of the cross, where I feel supported.

What happened unexpectedly in the church parking lot after mass seemed like divine intervention. I accidentally met a priest who I greatly admire and told him my diagnosis. To my surprise he related his experience with the same disease which was successfully treated decades earlier. It was hugely helpful to hear his story. At that moment I felt God’s grace being poured directly on me.

Since that day I have met a few other men who have been treated successfully. In prayer I heard Christ say: “Trust Me.” In moments of worry I come back to this.

Going forward I met the oncologist who offered options for radiation. He said 20 sessions is the usual dose, but his new machine can do it in 7 if I choose. After hearing the side effects in November I opted for 7. All the staff I encountered at Princess Margaret Hospital were kind and thoughtful.

Going forward I met the oncologist who offered options for radiation. He said 20 sessions is the usual dose, but his new machine can do it in 7 if I choose. After hearing the side effects in November I opted for 7. All the staff I encountered at Princess Margaret Hospital were kind and thoughtful.

The experience of having cancer has me contemplating the last things, even though I acknowledge I’m not anywhere near the end, at least from cancer. When I attend mass in my parish, I have a strong sense of God’s presence, and also I find myself appreciating the beauty of the community, liturgical traditions, and even the architecture.

So what do I want for Christmas? I pray to be cancer free, but if that doesn’t happen, to accept the alternative in freedom.