It started about 18 months ago when I was working in Washington DC in the States, and I went to a local urologist because I had marginal impotency problems and I wanted him to prescribe Viagra for me, which at the time was difficult to obtain through a GP here. He agreed to do that but then he asked me whether I'd recently had a screening test called PSA and I immediately responded that I'd never heard of PSA and what did it stand for and what was it for?

And I don't think I really took in what he was saying but I agreed to take the PSA test primarily to humour him rather than because I'd really considered all the risks and benefits of taking such a test. He did examine me with a digital rectal examination at the time and that was normal and since I'd got my Viagra tablets I simply forgot about visiting him. And so I was somewhat surprised about 3 weeks later when he telephoned me about 10 o clock at night at my apartment and said my PSA level was very high, much higher than normal, it was about 9ng per ml and that I should take it very seriously although it didn't necessarily mean I had prostate cancer and he suggested I have a biopsy straight away. Well I was just about to finish my turn at Washington and go for a months visit to Venezuela and a biopsy wouldn't have been appropriate. But obviously I did feel a great sense of, well fear I suppose, because this was the first intimation that I might have a problem in this connection. I didn't really have any symptoms and suddenly I was faced with my own mortality. So it was a most anxious time and I remember rushing round to the book shop and buying 4 books on prostate cancer and reading them up and being absolutely horrified about the treatments on offer. Surgery seemed to me more like butchery than surgery and so I was finding it very difficult to sleep at that time.