But before hearing the music at Jazz Fest, we need to face the music in the doctor’s office, and Ann and I drive over to Touro to get the biopsy results. The music starts off on a discordant and humorous note, that is, if you like black comedy. When my urologist joins us, his first words are, "Well, this isn’t too bad." Then he shuffles his papers and says, "Oops, I’m looking at the wrong file."

Oops? Oops is a word you never want to hear from your doctor.

This is his first stumble. He’s recovered quickly, but you don’t like your doctor mixing up the files, even if it is just for a moment. There is enough to worry about without being concerned that a diagnosis will be made on someone else’s file or biopsy sample or pathology report.

Then comes the news.

"The biopsy is positive, with four of the six samples showing signs of cancer."

Positive. Cancer. Well, there it is. It isn’t a surprise. The lump, high PSA velocity, my family history. But I can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, why something so negative for me is couched as a positive result.

"The Gleason Score is 6, which is good. You don’t want an 8, 9, or 10." I’m sure this is true, but I wouldn’t have minded a 5 either. Or even a 4.

"What about the staging?" I ask. While the Gleason score indicates the aggressiveness of the cancer, the staging indicates how far it has spread.

"We don’t know for sure. It’s hard to tell, but my guess is that it’s a T1c or maybe a T2a."

This is good, too, and suggests that the cancer is still confined to my prostate and has not metastasized elsewhere. If it spreads beyond the prostate, you’re into a whole other ball game with outcomes not nearly as hopeful. The biopsy also reveals that malignant tissue has been found on both sides of the prostate. It is more widespread than I had hoped and more extensive than the DRE had indicated with its "I feel a very small nodule on the left side of your prostate."