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 MIL Turned Our Adopted Son’s Room into Her Reading Room While We Were Away — the Lesson I Taught Her Was Harsh

My mother-in-law’s secret makeover of our adopted son’s room sparked a family firestorm. What unfolded next rocked our world, exposing raw nerves and hidden truths. It’s a wild ride of love, betrayal, and unexpected lessons that changed us all – for better or worse.
I spent weeks getting Max’s room just right. The excitement of finally adopting our son had Garrett and me buzzing with energy. We hung posters of dinosaurs and spaceships, carefully arranged stuffed animals, and filled bookshelves with colorful stories.

A tastefully decorated child’s room | Source: Pexels
“Do you think he’ll like it?” I asked Garrett, stepping back to admire our work.
“He’s going to love it, Nora,” Garrett replied, wrapping an arm around my waist. “This room is perfect for our little guy.”
Our moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. Vivian, Garrett’s mother, poked her head in. “My, my, what a… vibrant space,” she said, her lips pursed.
I forced a smile. “Thanks, Vivian. We wanted Max to feel welcome.”

A woman smiling somewhat nervously | Source: Pexels
Vivian’s eyes scanned the room again, a calculating look crossing her face. “You know,” she mused, “this space would make a lovely reading nook. I’ve been longing for a quiet place to enjoy my books.”
She paused, then added with a condescending smile, “Perhaps I could even use it to read some advanced literature to Max. Heaven knows the boy could use some intellectual stimulation to improve his… potential.”
I exchanged a worried glance with Garrett. Her casual suggestion and thinly veiled insult felt like an attempt to claim the space for herself, disregarding Max’s needs entirely.

A disgruntled woman confronting a man in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
It was becoming clear that Vivian’s presence in our home was causing more tension than comfort, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of our troubles.
Garrett cleared his throat. “Mom, we’ve talked about this. Max is our son now, and we’re doing what’s best for him.”
Vivian waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes. I just think blood is thicker than water, that’s all.”
I bit my tongue, reminding myself that Vivian was still grieving her husband’s passing. She’d been living with us since he died, and we thought it would help her cope. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

A woman standing in a room, looking downcast | Source: Midjourney
“Well, we should finish packing,” I said, eager to change the subject. “Our anniversary trip is tomorrow.”
“Oh yes, your little getaway,” Vivian said. “Are you sure it’s wise to leave the boy so soon?”
“Max will be fine with my sister Zoe,” I assured her. “It’s just for a few days.”
The next morning, we said our goodbyes. Max clung to me, his dark eyes wide with worry. “You’ll come back, right?” he whispered.
My chest tightened. “Of course we will, sweetheart. We’ll always come back for you.”

A couple embracing a child | Source: Pexels
Zoe arrived to pick him up, and we waved until they were out of sight. As we got in the car, I noticed Vivian watching from the window, her expression unreadable.
Our trip was lovely, full of romantic dinners and long walks on the beach. But I couldn’t shake a nagging feeling of unease.
“Do you think everything’s okay at home?” I asked Garrett one night.
He kissed my forehead. “I’m sure it’s fine. Let’s try to enjoy our time away, okay?”
I nodded, pushing my worries aside. Little did I know what was waiting for us when we got back.

A couple walking on a beach, holding hands | Source: Pexels
As soon as we stepped through the front door, I knew something was off. “Do you smell paint?” I asked Garrett, frowning.
His eyes widened. “Yeah, I do. What the —”
We raced upstairs, my stomach dropping with each step. When we reached Max’s room, I froze in the doorway, unable to believe my eyes.

A well-lit bedroom | Source: Pexels
Gone were the colorful posters and toys. In their place were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a plush armchair, and a delicate daybed. The walls were a soft beige, erasing any trace of the vibrant blue we’d chosen.
“What the hell happened here?” Garrett exclaimed.
Vivian appeared behind us, beaming. “Oh good, you’re home! Do you like the surprise?”
I spun around, fury building inside me. “Surprise? You call this a surprise? Where are Max’s things?”

Close-up of a woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I packed them away,” Vivian said, waving her hand. “I thought it was time to give the room a more sophisticated touch. The boy needs to grow up, after all.”
“He’s seven years old!” I shouted. “This was his safe space, and you destroyed it!”
Garrett put a hand on my arm. “Mom, how could you do this without asking us?”
Vivian’s smile faltered. “I… I thought you’d be pleased. This room is much more practical now.”

An elderly woman reflected in a bedroom mirror | Source: Pexels
“Practical?” I sputtered. “It was perfect the way it was. Where is Max supposed to sleep? Where are his toys?”
“The daybed is perfectly suitable,” Vivian insisted. “And he has too many toys anyway. It’s time he learned to appreciate literature.”
I could feel myself shaking with rage. Garrett must have sensed I was about to explode because he quickly said, “Mom, we need some time to process this. Could you give us a moment?”
After Vivian left, I collapsed onto the daybed, trying to hold back tears. “How could she do this?” I whispered.

A woman crouching on a bed | Source: Pexels
Garrett sat beside me with a sigh. “I don’t know. This is way out of line, even for her.”
I took a deep breath, an idea forming in my mind. “I think it’s time we taught your mother a lesson about boundaries.”
Garrett raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
Over the next few days, I pretended everything was fine. I smiled at Vivian, thanked her for her “thoughtfulness,” and even asked her advice on decorating.

A woman smiling happily, standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
All the while, Garrett and I were plotting our revenge.
On Saturday morning, I said to Vivian, “We’d love to treat you to a day at the spa today and serve you a special dinner tonight,” I said, injecting warmth into my voice. “We want to thank you properly for all you’ve done.”
“Oh, how lovely!” Vivian replied.
As soon as Vivian left, Garrett and I sprang into action.

A dug-up section of a home backyard | Source: Midjourney
We spent the day transforming Vivian’s beloved garden into a children’s playground. We dug up her prized roses to make room for a sandbox, scattered toys everywhere, and even installed a small slide.
When she returned, I greeted her at the front door with a bright smile. “We have a surprise for you,” I said, holding out a blindfold.
She hesitated. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”
“You’ll see,” Garrett said, gently tying the blindfold around her eyes. “We think you’re really going to love it.”
We led her outside into the backyard, positioning her in front of her transformed garden. “Ready?” I asked, barely containing my excitement.
“I suppose so,” Vivian said, sounding nervous.

A woman standing on a porch, wearing a blindfold | Source: Midjourney
I removed the blindfold. For a moment, there was silence. Then Vivian let out a strangled gasp.
“What… what have you done?” she cried, staring at the chaos before her.
I adopted an innocent tone. “Oh, we just thought the garden needed a more playful touch. Don’t you like it?”
“Like it?” Vivian sputtered. “You’ve destroyed my sanctuary! My beautiful roses, my carefully tended beds… all ruined!”
“We didn’t destroy it,” Garrett said calmly. “We simply repurposed it. You know, like you did with Max’s room.”

A man looking out over a backyard | Source: Pexels
Vivian’s face paled as understanding dawned. “This… this is about the boy’s room?”
“His name is Max,” I said firmly. “And yes, this is about his room. How do you think he’ll feel when he comes home to find his safe space gone?”
“I… I didn’t think…” Vivian stammered.
“Exactly,” Garrett cut in. “You didn’t think about how your actions would affect our son. Just like we didn’t consider how this would affect your garden.”
Vivian’s lower lip trembled. “But my garden was so important to me. It was my… my —”

A woman on a porch looking out wistfully | Source: Midjourney
“Your sanctuary?” I finished for her. “Just like Max’s room was his sanctuary. Do you understand now?”
Tears welled up in Vivian’s eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant to hurt anyone. I just… I felt like I was losing my place in this family.”
Garrett’s expression softened. “Mom, you’ll always have a place in our family. But Max is our son now, and you need to accept that.”
“Can we go inside and talk about this?” Vivian asked, wiping her eyes.

A woman wiping away a tear with a tissue | Source: Midjourney
We spent the next few hours having an honest, sometimes painful conversation. Vivian admitted her fears about being replaced, especially after losing her husband. We acknowledged that we could have done more to include her in our new family dynamic.
By the end of the night, we had a plan. We would restore Max’s room together, and Vivian would help us explain to Max what happened. She also agreed to start seeing a grief counselor to work through her feelings about losing her husband.
The next day, we all pitched in to bring Max’s room back to life. As we hung the last poster, we heard the front door open.

A room undergoing renovation | Source: Pexels
“Mom? Dad? I’m home!” Max called.
We exchanged nervous glances as his footsteps pounded up the stairs. When he burst into the room, his face lit up with joy.
“You kept it the same!” he exclaimed, throwing himself into my arms.
Over his head, I caught Vivian’s eye. She gave me a small, sad smile, and I knew we were on the path to healing.
That night, we all crowded into Max’s room for a bedtime story. As I looked around at my family, I realized that sometimes, the hardest lessons lead to the greatest understanding.

A woman and a young boy enjoying a bedtime story | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
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