You become a fighter. You don't give up.

When Virgil Miller was diagnosed with prostate cancer almost 10 years ago, he had few options. But his doctor told him then he made the right decision, and Miller said he'd still make the same decision today.

The prostate-specific antigen test (PSA) test wasn't available in Iowa until 1991, he said. At the time, Miller was more concerned with his cholesterol. Then three things came together — an enlarged prostate, a doctor's retirement, and a misplaced lab slip — that quite possibly saved his life.

In 1989, during an annual physical, the doctor told Miller his prostate was enlarged, but dismissed it because of his age — about 54 at the time.

When Miller returned for his physical in 1990, the doctor had retired. The new doctor did not dismiss the still-enlarged gland and sent Miller to a urologist.

"Nothing to worry about," Miller said the urologist told him. "It's because of your age."

"Well, in the meantime, I had had problems with high cholesterol," Miller said. "Still do."

Miller was scheduled to get a blood test after following a special diet for about three months. "Well as fate would have it, I misplaced the lab slip. I had to go back to the doctor' s office and get a new one. In the meantime, the PSA had become available here in Iowa." And the doctor wrote "PSA test" on the new lab slip.

Miller was waiting for the verdict on his diet when he got a call from the doctor's office. The caller said, "Forget about the cholesterol — we've got a bigger problem."

Miller returned to the urologist, had a digital rectal exam (DRE) and four biopsies. His PSA count was 20, he said.

After the biopsy, Miller got another call. "They just said — boom — it indicated that you've got prostate cancer," he said. "I felt like I'd walked around a corner and somebody just all of the sudden hit me with a baseball bat. And my first response was, 'What's my prognosis?' Because to me, cancer meant a death sentence."

When he told his parents, they responded, "We're going to beat it, we’re going to win," he said. "With that positive support, that's a big, big help. That's part of what helped get me though."

Patricia, his wife, went with him to meet with the doctor. "He said [the cancer] was small, and growing slowly so I had time. I had three options — the first was to do nothing and just wait and see what happened, two was to do radiation, and three was to do the radical surgery," Miller said.

"And I looked over at my wife and just in a split second, without any words going between us, decided on the radical surgery." If he'd chosen radiation alone at that time, and they didn’t get it all, surgery would no longer be an option, he said.

Before surgery, Miller had to donate four units of blood. That "scared the hell out of me," he said. He thought he might bleed to death during surgery. His doctor reassured him it was just a precaution. "I think they only used part of one unit.

"I came out of it pretty good," he said. "In fact, when I came out of the recovery room my wife, my mom, and some friends were there and they were all commenting 'You don't even look like you've been through surgery.' "

He remained in the hospital for four days. "I really didn’t have any what I'd call 'bad' moments." And on Christmas Eve, he went home.

For eight weeks, doctor's orders, Miller was off work. About four months after surgery he started radiation treatments — 35 radiation treatments, five days a week for seven weeks.

Miller said it was about a year before he felt like talking about his experience. But during radiation, he said he began to feel he was "ready to give something back." He got involved with his local American Cancer Society (ACS), and the Man to Man program.

"I guess I was one of the few men that was willing to talk about my situation," he said. He's been a volunteer since 1993 and has served on the board of volunteers for two terms.

"Usually the ways it starts is the wife would be the one that would call," he said. Miller talked to men — and their wives, if that's what the men wanted.

"One of the things I try to talk to guys about when I do the man-to-man thing is quality of life issues," he said. "That has to go into that decision process. I always tell people, 'you know it's a husband/wife thing, you know it’s something the two of you need to sit down and talk about.' "

Miller has also donated his time and his voice to the ACS — speaking publicly about prostate cancer, and spending countless hours in the studio recording PSAs (public service announcements) and working on commercials with a local television station to raise awareness.

And he broadcasts to friends. "I basically told my friends, 'Use me as an example. You're not as healthy as you think you are.' " Patricia will ask them, "first thing," he said, laughing, "have you had a PSA?" If she finds anybody that's over 50 and especially if they're African American, boy, she's on 'em in a minute.

"I've had several guys say they didn't want to have that digital rectal exam, and I said, 'you know you're only talking about a second or two of discomfort. Is your life worth that?' "

"I think I've become the poster boy for prostate cancer here in the Des Moines area. I'll live with it."

"It's a hand that's been dealt to you, and I think you have to make the most of it," Miller said, reflecting on his experience. "Rather than sitting down and saying oh well, I'm going to die, or giving up, you've got to fight it.

"I think there are enough options available out there today that you just look at it in a positive manner that yes, I'm going to win this," Miller said. "Most cancer survivors — that's the theme that they talk about. You become a fighter. You don't give up."