William Shatner has earned success throughout his active career. The actor, best known for his role as Captain James T. Kirk in the Star Trek series, got the opportunity to travel to space in real life. On the other hand, Shatner’s diagnosis of a terminal illness made it difficult for him to survive to be 90 years old.
William Shatner, the Star Trek actor, has eight albums to his name and has distinguished himself in the acting and music worlds. Despite his accomplishments, the star’s life was turned upside down when he was diagnosed with prostate cancer.
In an article for NBC, Shatner highlighted how he had led a very fortunate life but had also experienced dеаth in many ways. When he was given a grim prognosis, the celebrity understandably became concerned that his days were numbered.
“I was told by a doctor that I had a dеаdly condition. That I was going to die,” Shatner told NBC.
“I wasn’t sure how to react to the news. We were discussing my funеrаI.”
“The doctor informed me that I had cancer. I reasoned that there had to be an error.”
Prostate cancer frequently grows slowly, and symptoms do not appear until the prostate is large enough to obstruct the tube that drains urine from the bladder into the penis.
Shatner’s doctor administered a prostate-specific antigen (PSA) test to detect his cancer type. These tests can determine whether cancer seriously thrеаtens one’s life and whether other non-cancerous conditions have led to elevated PSA levels.
“He took my PSA, a marker for this disease, to figure out which sort it was,” Shatner stated of his diagnosis.
“Up until that time, it was at one or two, well within acceptable ranges. He announced that it was ten. ‘Aggressive cancer,’ says the doctor. Ten! My own body had deceived me.”
After being stunned, horrified, and somewhat angry by the prognosis, Shatner’s thoughts rapidly went to the potential of dеаth.
“I recognized my prognosis; I had drafted my will, which indicated that upon my dеаth, this person would receive this and that person would receive that,” he said.
“On a more emotional level, though, I was convinced I would live indefinitely. I contested it. It meant expressing my will before indulging in a lovely piece of strudel. Death had no meaning for me.”
After striving to accept life while carrying the gravity of a dеаth sentence, Shatner discovered that testosterone supplements—the very supplements he was taking—might have something to do with prostate cancer in some cases.
“I wondered whether I should discontinue taking the supplements.” “Yeah,” he said, “that would be a terrific idea.”
In their investigation, researchers in Baltimore, USA, collected blood samples from 759 men, 111 of whom had been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Males over 55 were found to be more likеly to get prostate cancer, proving that an increase in testosterone levels is associated with an increased chance of developing the disease.
In contrast, another study from the University of Oxford revealed that, while high testosterone levels were not associated with an increased risk of prostate cancer, low testosterone levels were.
Researchers discovered that the body has a finite number of androgen receptors; thus, if these are “filled up,” the testosterone level in the bloodstream is meaningless because binding to a receptor is impossible. This data was derived from blood samples of about 19,000 men, 6,900 of whom developed prostate cancer.
This study found that low testosterone levels can reduce the risk of prostate cancer, but high testosterone levels do not. And Shatner was no exception.
“Three months later, I received another PSA test. It had dropped to one. One. According to Shatner, the doctor suspected that the higher PSA number was caused by testosterone.
“The body acquires cancer frequently and exterminates it, but that test’s sensitivity allowed it to identify even the slightest hint of it, which, combined with the PSA reading, made me fear I was near dеаth. I was pleased to learn that I did not have cancer. I’ve returned to not dying. At the very least, immediately.
The NHS explains that “false-positive” PSA test results are common and that a blood test, physical examination, MRI scan, or biopsy are more reliable screening methods for prostate cancer.
People experiencing the following symptoms should see a doctor, who will most likеly perform the above-mentioned testing:
More frequent and regular overnight urination
An unexpected urge to use the restroom, difficulty starting to urinate (hesitancy), straining or taking their time to urinate.
Poor flow, as though your bladder hasn’t been totally emptied
Blood in the urine or sperm.
If a person is diagnosed with prostate cancer, they will be advised on the best treatment options. If the cancer is treatable, treatment options may include “watchful waiting” in the early stages or surgery and radiotherapy later on.
My husband created a new schedule to ‘improve my role as a wife’ — I taught him a lesson in return
I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along.Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
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