I Wasn’t Worried—Until I Read My Own MRI Report

By Dr. Steve Tieche, Co-Founder of Recharge Clinic

When my PSA first came back higher than usual, I thought the result was wrong. I wasn’t frightened, and I wasn’t immediately thinking about cancer. I had been checking my labs regularly for years, and that number barely moved. My first thought was that something had affected the test and that repeating it would probably clear things up.

I have had that conversation with plenty of patients. A result changes, we look at what might explain it, and we decide what to do next. Sometimes we repeat the test. Sometimes we need to investigate further. What I did not know when I started repeating my own bloodwork was that, a few months later, I would be sitting at the clinic reading my MRI report over and over, trying to prepare myself to call my wife.

I knew what my labs usually looked like

I check my labs at least three times a year. It is part of taking care of my health, and it means I have a good idea of what is typical for me. My PSA had generally stayed around 1.2 to 1.5. It had been normal in January, just as it had been on previous checks.

Then I was changing insurance companies and had bloodwork done as part of that process. I was quite comfortable going into it because I followed my labs closely. I expected the results to look much like they always had. Instead, my PSA came back around 4.

That got my attention, but it did not immediately alarm me. I already had longstanding issues with an enlarged prostate. Getting up at night to use the bathroom and having difficulty emptying my bladder were not new experiences. Nothing had suddenly changed physically, and I did not feel sick.

What was different was the bloodwork. I could compare that result with years of previous tests and see that something had changed. I wanted to know whether it was a temporary change or something that needed more attention.

I kept expecting it to come back down

I repeated the PSA, and it stayed elevated compared with my previous results. I repeated it again. Because I had experienced prostatitis in the past, I also took a course of antibiotics during the evaluation, thinking that might explain what was happening. But after several weeks, the number had barely changed.

Over roughly two to three months, I checked it several times. It never returned to where it had been before. At that point, I was no longer satisfied with assuming there was nothing to investigate.

I still was not convinced that anything serious was wrong. I see a lot of PSA results in my practice, and I have helped many men work through changes in those numbers. That experience kept me reasonably calm. I knew we had more questions to answer, but I was not sitting at home thinking the worst.

There was also a family history of prostate cancer, although I knew very little about my father’s experience. That came back into the conversation during my evaluation. It had not been what first caught my attention; the persistent change in my own labs was what kept me moving forward.

At the same time, Cynthia was preparing for surgery

While I was repeating those tests, Cynthia was going through the evaluation for her pituitary tumor. We were dealing with her diagnosis, appointments, and upcoming surgery while my bloodwork was happening in the background.

My attention was largely on getting her through that experience. By the time I had my prostate MRI, she was only about a week out from surgery. We had just been through something significant as a family, and I certainly was not looking to add another medical problem to the calendar.

I expected the MRI to show an enlarged prostate, perhaps some inflammation, and nothing particularly concerning. That was honestly what I thought we were going to find. The scan itself was not painful for me. I had some itching from the contrast that was treated, but otherwise the appointment was straightforward.

Afterward, I went back to work and family life. I was not particularly preoccupied with the results. Cynthia remembers realizing how little concern I had when she learned I had told our oldest daughter, Lauren, that I was having the scan. In my mind, there was not much to worry everyone about.

Lauren, understandably, wanted to know how it turned out. She kept checking to see whether the report had arrived.

Then I read it

The results came back to the office, and I read the report myself. Instead of the reassuring explanation I had expected, it described multiple suspicious areas. The overall impression included the words “Clinically significant cancer is highly likely.”

I read it again, and then again. I probably read that report ten times before discussing it with anyone. I understood the terminology. I did not need someone to explain why the findings were concerning. What I needed was a little time to take in the fact that I was reading those findings about myself.

That was when my reaction changed. Until then, I had mostly been doubtful that anything serious was happening. Now I was upset. I had genuinely expected a different result.

I was already thinking about what would come next. I knew I needed a biopsy, and I started considering what I would do if it showed cancer. I did not view the report as a death sentence, but I could not dismiss it either. There was something that needed to be addressed, and I wanted to address it.

I knew how to explain it. I still did not want to make the call.

One of the hardest parts was knowing I had to tell my family. I had explained concerning results to patients many times, but this was different. Now I was going to tell Cynthia, who was recovering from surgery, that my scan had not come back the way we expected.

I knew what people were likely to hear. I could explain that the MRI was not a confirmed diagnosis and that we still needed the biopsy, but I also knew how frightening those words would sound. I did not want everyone jumping to the worst possible conclusion before we had an answer.

Part of me wanted to get the whole thing handled before anyone had to worry. Of course, that was not going to happen. My family already knew about the MRI, and Lauren was waiting to hear the results.

For years, I had been the person helping patients through this part: explaining what we knew, what we did not know, and why the next step mattered. Now I was the one who needed that next step. I still had the same medical knowledge, but it did not make calling my wife easy.

In the next part of this story, I’ll share that conversation, the weeks of waiting for my biopsy, and what it felt like to arrive at an unfamiliar hospital as the patient.

Frequently asked questions

Were you feeling sick when your PSA changed?

No. I had longstanding urinary symptoms, but nothing new happened that prompted this evaluation. The change showed up in my bloodwork.

Why were you checking your labs regularly?

Regular monitoring was already part of my care. Having previous results gave me something to compare when this one looked different.

Did you immediately think you had cancer?

No. I initially thought the result might be temporary or have another explanation. My level of concern changed after the MRI.

Was the MRI a confirmed cancer diagnosis?

No. It was concerning, but I still needed a biopsy to find out what the tissue samples would show.

What would you encourage someone to do after reading this?

Keep up with your provider visits and the lab work recommended for you. When something changes, have the conversation and follow through.

Make time to check in on your health

At Recharge Clinic, we can review your health history, discuss your routine lab work, and help you understand the next step when something needs attention. Schedule a visit at one of our locations in Ocala, Lady Lake/The Villages, or Clermont, or give us a call at 352-512-9996 to get started!