My time spent kayaking at Grand Teton National Park was a great antidote for a cancer diagnosis, one that turned out wrong/Marcelle Shoop

With each paddle stroke the kayak shot forward, gliding me across Jackson Lake beneath the Tetons. The blue sky and puffy clouds, the flocks of pelicans, and the craggy mountains all worked to a degree to take my mind off the cancer diagnosis I had received the night before.

I already had lost my father and three close friends to cancers and I couldn’t help but fear I was next.

Whether you appreciate it or not, the 21st Century Cures Act gives most of us these days notification of medical test results as soon as, and sometimes before, our doctors receive them. That was the case in late August when my wife and I checked into our cabin at Colter Bay in Grand Teton National Park. Among the emails in my inbox were the results from a nuclear bone scan I had had to see whether there had been any metastasis from what an MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) earlier in the summer indicated might be prostate cancer.

Prostate cancer these days isn’t automatically viewed as a killer. Many cancers of the prostate are slow growing; a natural death, some doctors say, will kill you before prostate cancer. Plus, there have been great strides in treating prostate cancers, from radiation and hormonal therapies to immunotherapies, the last treatment one that gets your own healthy cells to attack the cancerous ones.

But as I read the dense medical jargon the radiologist used to decipher my bone scan my hopes plummeted; metastasis was suspected in five of my ribs, my right femur, and my left knee. How could it be anything but an aggressive cancer?

I wasn’t sure, I told a friend, whether I should start planning my funeral or hope medical solutions would allow me to plan my future.

The three-day retreat to Grand Teton very possibly was, for me, the best place to receive such dire-sounding results. Though I wanted to head home the very next day, my wife encouraged me to stay, for the two of us to get out on the water in one of the gems of the National Park System. And it certainly helped. I long have turned to the outdoors, and national parks, to find rejuvenation and distraction from thoughts I didn’t want to think.

And in this setting of grandeur, how couldn't your worries be compartmentalized in a tiny corner of your brain while your senses take over? Your eyes sweep across the Tetons, from side to side and top to bottom, catching on the crags; the sweet mountain air cleanses your lungs; and the lapping water, calling birds, and even the wind rustling the tree tops soothes your nerves.

Sitting in my kayak in the lake, gently riding the swells, it all delivered a calmness, if only for a while.

But then, in late September, there was a bizarre, yet fantastic, twist in my condition. I didn’t have prostate cancer. While my anxiety level had soared as I feared the next test, a biopsy that was next up in my summer’s medical odyssey found no trace of disease.

That bone scan that had pointed to metastasis? Three ensuing tests — a CT scan of my right femur and X-rays of my ribs and left knee — still indicated metastasis in my knee and femur. But one more test, a PET scan (Positron emission topography), failed to detect any cancer in my body; the “metastasis” of cancer was an erroneous diagnosis.

The takeaway from my summer nightmare was to urge my sons, my brother, my nephew, and all my male friends to pay attention to their health, to advise their doctor if there’s history of prostate cancer in their family (if a father has had it, their sons have a 50 percent chance of contracting it; the percentage goes up if a sibling has it, too), and to annually have their PSA (prostate-specific antigen) checked once they reach 50. It’s a simple blood test that can guide your care. And, as in my case, it's not always a precise indicator.

At the same time, respect the medical tests you might encounter, but try not to read too much into them until you've consulted with doctors. There is great research being conducted on cancers, and if caught early, prostate cancer need not be deadly. Indeed, my doctor of 30 years and the oncologist I consulted both said prostate cancer, even with metastasis, wasn't always a killer. A friend who works in radiology told me she has been following patients with the same diagnosis for decades.

Do take an active interest in your tests and their results. My wife was amazing in this regard. She was my rock.

And, if you’re like me, clear your head in a national park, if only for a while.