A 76-year-old West Orange man has chosen to go public about his penile cancer and surgery, intent on getting men to be more vigilant about their health.
John Sweeney is one of just 1,800 men nationwide diagnosed last year with cancer of the penis.
And he's surely one of the few to talk about it openly.
"Thank God I got rid of my embarrassment. I stood up like a man and I went to the hospital," says Sweeney, 76, of West Orange. "I was macho - but I'm not macho no more."
Sweeney's penis was surgically removed last August - the only way to prevent the cancer from killing him, doctors said. Reeling from that loss, he said he decided to embrace his new his role and is now telling his story as a cautionary tale.
"It's probably become the most famous procedure ever done at Saint Barnabas," said the doctor Sweeney first consulted.
Penile cancer is uncommon - but not freakishly rare. There were an estimated 1,820 new cases of penile cancer diagnosed last year, as well as 310 deaths from it, according to the American Cancer Society. Cases are on the rise, with more than 2,030 expected this year - a 12 percent jump.
Risk factors include being uncircumcised, as well as having a human papilloma virus (HPV) infection that doesn't go away. Risk increases with age; the average age at diagnosis is 68.
Sweeney, who was uncircumcised, first noticed a burning sensation when he needed to urinate. When he took a closer look, he was shocked to see a weird laceration on the tip of his penis. He assumed it was an injury from a recent fall.
"He called me one day and said, 'I fell and split my penis, '" said Gina Verderosa, his god-daughter and family friend who drives him to medical appointments. "I said, 'What? That doesn't make sense." She insisted he see a doctor, so he mentioned it during an already scheduled appointment with his long-time podiatrist.
"He came into the hospital for my care, for his foot," recalled Charles M. Kurtzer, the doctor who treats Sweeney for the effects of diabetes. "And then he said, 'Hey doc, can you take a look at my penis?'"
After examining it, Kurtzer sent him to a urologist. A second urologist did the surgery, called a penectomy. Sweeney was hugely relieved they were able to leave him with a short stump with which to urinate.
He's had to figure out how to do that without making a mess, finding it awkward to contort himself into a position that works. "I'm Sweeney - not Houdini!," he quips.
That's typical of this retired housepainter and wallpaper hanger. His relentless need to find some dark humor in his situation - as well as his decision to be completely open about his surgery - has helped him cope.
Kurtzer said the diagnosis sent Sweeney into a tailspin - until he learned just how rare his situation was.
"And suddenly, this became his case. This was now something that was his. There's this notion that, 'I'm special,' " he said. "His attitude became, 'Look at me!'
So Sweeney has sought to publicize the disease, and would love to tour the country giving talks for a cancer organization of some kind.
"I want every man in the country to go see their doctors," he says. "If I can save some people, I'll be the happiest man on the planet."
Men often postpone seeking care when it comes to their penises, said Richard Greenberg, chief of urologic oncology at Fox Chase Cancer Center in Philadelphia and a penile cancer researcher.
"They know in their heart of hearts there's a problem, but they've put it off," he said. "Sometimes it's the spouse who brings them in, kicking and screaming." (Sweeney's wife died a year ago, before his diagnosis.)
When asked if an examination of the penis is part of a man's annual physical, Greenberg said, "It should be. But I'm guessing it's not."
Surgery is usually the preferred treatment, he said, but it needn't be as drastic as Sweeney's. Smaller lesions can be cauterized, and those limited to the surface can be removed and reconstructive surgery can restore the appearance.
Penile cancer is like most others: once it moves into the lymphatic system and heads for distant parts of the body, the prognosis worsens.
For cancers caught while still confined to the penis, as Sweeney's was, the survival rate five years later is 85 percent. If it has spread to the lymph nodes or nearby tissue, that drops to 59 percent. It if has spread further, the survival rate is 11 percent.
Chemotherapy isn't very effective on most cases of this cancer, Greenberg said, and radiation can be counter-productive. "Radiation sort of destroys the penis, so you're not left with anything functional anyway," he said.
Most patients adjust to the surgery because they have little choice, Greenberg said. And in Sweeney's case, surgery spared his testicles, which was a relief.
Verderosa, the family friend who has taken Sweeney under her wing, says she urges him to take it one day at a time. "Whenever he says, 'Oh, my penis is gone,' I say, 'You're alive.'"
Kathleen O'Brien may be reached at kobrien@njadvancemedia.com. Follow her on Twitter @OBrienLedger. Find NJ.com on Facebook.
Some of the company's travelers were stranded overseas when it folded, officials said. (File photo, FABRICE COFFRINI)
