I will always think of 2005 as the year I became a cancer survivor.

I can't help thinking that it was partially my fault that my disease progressed as far as it did before being detected but, as I was under the care of a competent endocrinologist, I skipped seeing my GP and neglected to get a PSA (prostate-specific antigen) test for 2-3 years running. Then too, no one sent me a postcard saying, "Time for your annual physical and PSA test." My cancer crept up on me. It was completely painless with only mild symptoms of even an enlarged prostate. That is how this stealthy killer works. Finally on the urging of a coworker I asked my endocrinologist to add the PSA test to my blood work.

When I told my hastily chosen urologist I had a 5.2 PSA reading, he said I had a 28% chance of having prostate cancer, but when I mentioned that my father had contracted prostate cancer late in life, my probability of having cancer went up to 40%. A biopsy was scheduled at my earliest convenience, providing the first pain I experienced in the course of my disease.

So listen up guys, if there is a history of prostate cancer in your immediate family (father, brother, uncle) you should begin getting the PSA test annually at age 40; otherwise, you should have the PSA test added to your annual physical exam at age 50 as a matter of course.

A few days after the biopsy, I flew to Connecticut to attend the First International 10-String Guitar Festival directed by Yepes protégé, Janet Marlow. My urologist tried to contact me with the biopsy report via Janet's cell phone, but it was discharged at the time and he couldn't get through. I didn't get the news that 4 out of 12 samples tested positive for cancer cells until after returning to St. Louis, an hour before leaving for Nashville to represent Mel Bay Publications at the Chet Atkins Appreciation Society Convention. I didn't speak with my wife about the biopsy results until evening when I arrived in Nashville, and was surprised that she knew much more than I! She had already heard the test results but didn't want to spoil my musical weekend in Connecticut.

The end result of my travels was that I was away from home two weekends in a row. The following Sunday we went to church as a family and by chance, the entire service was delivered by 11-14 year old kids performing contemporary Christian tunes, reading Bible passages and doing dramatic sketches. The first words spoken in the service were from Psalm 33 and concluded with "Praise Him …..with an instrument of ten strings." Having come from a 10-string guitar festival, an oddity in itself, I couldn't believe what I had just heard. After the service I asked the young reader for the verse location and checked it myself. It's right there in verse 2:

33:1 Rejoice in the LORD, O ye righteous: for praise is comely for the upright.
33:2
Praise the LORD with harp: sing unto him with the psaltery and an instrument of ten strings.
33:3
Sing unto him a new song; play skillfully with a loud noise.
33:4
For the word of the LORD is right; and all his works are done in truth.

My name appeared on the church prayer request list that Sunday, and that message was meant for me. There were only nine 10-string players and a 7-string guitarist at the festival. Janet estimates that there are perhaps 500 10-string players in the world. Having been to the 10-string festival just two weeks earlier and having experienced the music and company of that distinguished minority, that message had to be for me. God was being funny! I have since acquired an inexpensive Giannini 7-string classic guitar, but can a 10-string be far behind?

I underwent a radical prostatectomy on August 22. When I first came home from the hospital- catheterized, hallucinating from pain meds and generally miserable, I cried tears of joy that I was alive and "wrapped in a blanket of prayer" as my wife put it. A cello duo played in the ceiling fan. Chet Atkins' rendition of "Chaplain in New Shoes" was running through my head nonstop to the point that I wrote lyrics to it. A church friend was outside mowing our yard and other church members would mow and trim the yard for the remainder of the summer. Someone from church brought over a sumptuous roast beef dinner. My mother-in-law stayed with us for a week to help with the kids. Without a second thought, my wife and children had given up their summer vacations to tend to my needs.

I would lose 24 pounds and miss a month of work before returning to half-days for two weeks, and then full-time employment. Four months after the surgery I am still dealing with the expected aftereffects, but I am cancer-free, at least for now. I didn't count my blessings, but I was certainly aware of them. My priorities have been restructured; I can still work, make images and music, play with my children, and enjoy the love of my family.

I will indeed praise Him with an instrument of six or seven strings, at least until I get my 10-string!

Wishing you a prosperous and healthy New Year,
Stephen Rekas
Guitar Sessions Editor