Content updated in 2025–2026.

Prostate Enlargement: A Personal Path to Freedom from Illness

From childhood, I was brought up on a simple rule: only a doctor can heal you. That is easy to believe, especially when your health is steady and there is no need to visit a clinic. But adulthood sets in, the body begins to falter, and suddenly there is no getting by without a clinic.

Diagnostics and Medical Help

Diagnostic medicine is one of humanity’s greatest inventions. When a disease is detected early, it is undoubtedly easier to defeat. I have inexhaustible gratitude for the people who dedicate themselves to this branch of medicine. Their often selfless work prolongs millions of lives…

• “Hello, Doctor! I’ve come with my test results. Could you take a look at them, please?”
• “Well, well… Yes, you have clear symptoms of an enlarged prostate, and treatment is unavoidable. A bit early, but these days, my friend, that is hardly a rarity. Here is your prescription. Please take the medication and follow the instructions to the letter. I’ll expect you back in three to four weeks…”
• “Good afternoon! I’m back for my follow-up. After taking the pharmaceuticals, I don’t feel any real improvement.”
• “Really?! Well, anything can happen. Alright, let’s adjust the prescription…”

An identical period of time passes.

• “Hello again. Everything is still the same. Tell me honestly: if not at your clinic, is anyone anywhere actually using the most modern methods to treat prostate enlargement? Do they even exist in practical urology?”
• “Now you’re getting ahead of yourself. You have no idea what changes have already taken place at the cellular level. Go have your tests done again.”
• “Forgive me, but that means spending a substantial amount of money all over again. I don’t have money to burn.”
• “Well, what do you expect? To be frank, medicine isn’t omnipotent yet. When it comes to questions like ‘can an enlarged prostate be cured without surgery?’, mainstream medicine still doesn’t have a clear-cut answer.”

I sat through that banal exchange of canned lines myself—and I suspect many a man diagnosed with benign prostatic hyperplasia, or living with similar prostate trouble, has gone through the very same thing. Then again, I could be wrong. There is a whole class of people who never return to the doctor after the first failed attempt.

Useless Ads and Irresponsible Drugmakers

Got a disease? We’ll quickly whip up a drug for it. We’ll also find countries where it can be sold with zero liability. That is how they think at a major pharmaceutical company. And so the so-called therapeutic medications see the light of day—or to put it more simply and accurately, pills that fail for years to produce lasting results against prostate enlargement and do not restore the prostate’s natural functions, simply because they do not address the underlying cause of pelvic congestion.

After clearing all the regulatory hurdles through a bureaucrat who has perfected the art of puffing out his cheeks, acting like a VIP, and existing primarily so that everyone pays him everywhere, the bogus remedy lands on the pharmacy shelf. The drugstore owner puts it up for sale because, after all, that’s his business. The doctor writes the prescription based on what the pharmacy stocks and… advertising. The chain closes on the sick person.

In a relatively civilized society with humane constitutions and laws, an utterly absurd situation has taken hold: someone legally sells pharmaceuticals for treatment, yet bears zero responsibility for the end result. And society has been outright brainwashed by this lack of accountability.

The patient goes to the pharmacy—knowing no other way out—buys the drug, treats himself without success, but is always psychologically prepared to shrug his shoulders afterward and say, “Well, it didn’t help. These things happen.” The so-called “manufacturers” rub their hands together, tallying massive profits. The man is left with a desire to resign himself to the side effects of aging and accept every subsequent illness as par for the course.

Appointments with doctors were put on hold for a while.

Hucksters and Psychics: A Complete Waste of Time

This is right where all sorts of out-and-out fraudsters of every stripe appear on the horizon, wherever they aren’t banned. You can see it written all over their faces that in the past they mastered the trades of street-corner shell game hustlers and cheap scammers. They have never lifted anything heavier than a fat stack of cash in their lives. The reality around them and their complete lack of accountability handed them an ultra-profitable idea: masquerade as doctors.

Their working psychology is simple: using television, communications, the internet, the press, radio, and direct personal contact, they terrify the patient as much as possible, claiming that prostate disease is exceptionally complex and dangerous. The pain and discomfort are just the beginning, they insist, and horrific consequences await the sick man—but there is a way out. Their potion. They don’t call it medicine, since registering a drug requires outrageous sums of money, yet they claim it will conquer prostate enlargement and cure chronic prostatitis almost instantaneously. Supposedly, the remedy was developed by obscure scientists in a country where science died long ago and is beyond any hope of revival. Over the phone, these crooks will diagnose you, explain the underlying cause, and make sure to tell you that there isn’t a minute to lose—you must urgently… no, not start treatment, but wire payment as fast as possible. That snaps you back to reality a bit…

Then came more of the same. Trips to see psychics and remote healers who usually lived out in the middle of nowhere. Buying heavily advertised gizmos supposedly made by serious manufacturers, whose action was supposedly aimed at preventing and treating prostate hyperplasia, restoring male health, and improving genitourinary function. Repeated attempts to treat it with folk remedies…

As the saying goes, the absence of a result is a result in itself.

A Cycle of Fruitless Quests for a Cure

Once again, the search for a doctor. I had to see the most experienced one. Find the best specialist in town—maybe he could help… A cycle of attempts: conventional medicine, self-treatment (someone said that somewhere this helped somebody). There are some very powerful drugs that relieve this mounting discomfort. But reading their names alone makes you sick to your stomach. What stage of impotence do they push you into? What kind of collateral damage do they inflict on the body as a whole? Every single attempt ended in failure.

I was so sick and tired of this dull ache and all the side complications. The bathroom had turned into the most dreaded place in the house. Walking in there cast a pall over my mood for hours. What was next? Humbly wait for surgery? Infertility might follow an operation, but so what—I was past that age anyway.

There is a high probability of impotence setting in. That worried me; it was too early for that. Surgeons don’t mention the main point: surgical intervention might not stop the growth of the benign prostate tumor. Unforeseen risks of complications are also on the table. That is frightening… There was, of course, the option of switching to a healthy lifestyle, but I had no proper knowledge about how to do it.

Hold on! I had to tell myself the truth. That was the voice of my own laziness talking! Laziness was driving me back and forth between the clinic and the TV screen in search of a quick fix that required minimum effort. Pop a pill and you’re cured. With an enlarged prostate, that won’t fly—I had convinced myself of that repeatedly. Laziness will smoothly steer you toward irreversible damage, and perhaps even destroy you. You can never eliminate that inner defect in any body. You can only weaken or strengthen its grip. If I lacked knowledge, I would search for it. I had life experience—I would carefully test things on myself and make sure to learn how to listen to my body, analyzing each day, week, and month I lived through. That was no small matter.

I had to overcome depression, stop being angry at doctors and the whole world, and calm down without fail. Illnesses do not thrive outside of stress. In the end, it was my own fault that I was sick with this hated benign prostatic hyperplasia.

Overcoming Myself

At the start of the battle with the disease, on one pan of the scales sat my own laziness and complete ignorance; on the opposite sat only the fear of future complications and utter helplessness. Unequal counterweights! Naturally, the scales tipped nowhere in my favor.

Afterward, dozens of questions began hammering at my brain: how, and why?

How do you defeat the affliction? Why hadn’t the medications helped? Why did I feel worse after a sedentary weekend? I needed to invent specific exercises aimed at warming up the pelvic area. Which ones? Why did improvement follow moderate physical exertion combined with relaxation, and nothing else? How should I change my lifestyle?

The Stages of Recovery

The First Weeks: A Flare-Up and Working on Myself

The first two weeks of daily work brought nothing but a flare-up. I must be doing something wrong. It’s not just about pushing your body; you have to use your head.

The Second Month: Faint Optimism and Knowledge

The second month. Joining fear as allies came faint optimism and a modest amount of knowledge. Things were no longer getting worse. Yesterday I felt pretty good; today brought disappointment. And once again, I had to fight off a depressive slump.

The Third Month: New Nutrition and Habits

The third month of searching. How I dreaded changing my eating habits! Anything but touching the diet I had grown accustomed to over decades. Yes, I tried to dodge it for a very long time. It felt as though I would never shake off these dietary mirages, and life would turn into torture. But the painful sensations accompanying an enlarged prostate were etched clearly into my memory, leaving me no choice. A very short period of time passed, and it turned out that all the changes were completely painless.

After dinner, an irresistible urge would strike to collapse onto the couch with a newspaper or stare blankly at the TV. The temptation was there. Once again, that was the voice of my laziness. But I had to do the work. Good results began to show. The signs of the illness were fading away. Life wasn’t nearly as bleak as it had seemed in recent years. And the horizon of old age could be pushed back—if only the desire was there.

The Fourth Month: Meaningful Victories!

The fourth month of fighting for my health. During an appointment once, a urologist told me that using the bathroom once a night was considered the norm at my age. I achieved that exact benchmark. Yes, now the disease had become feeble and powerless before me; there was no need for comparison scales anymore. It retreated and surrendered. Knowledge, experience, and a conditioned body brought the entire process under complete control. Nothing could stop me now.

The most expensive purchase I made to improve the quality of my recovery was a food steamer. But the whole family grew fond of it. Then again, if you’re truly motivated, you can easily get by without one.

The Fifth Month: Progress and Joy in Life

The fifth month. The body strictly obeys the will of the mind. I show zero signs of the disease called “prostate enlargement.” I do not wake up at night to visit the bathroom. The last time that happened was a little under four years ago. If modern medicine calls such a state sustained remission—so be it. But remission without a healthy lifestyle somehow never arrived. Such were the particular traits of my benign prostatic hyperplasia. It makes you want to sing out loud, at the top of your lungs. It is pure bliss, if you’ll excuse the bluntness, not to feel your own bladder. As the saying goes, through persistent hard work I took my health back myself, and I have every right to consciously enjoy what I’ve achieved.

Nearly half a year has passed. What a deep joy it is to feel the fullness of good health! And the rules I live by today do not get in my way in the slightest.

A Little Philosophy

…Evening sets in. Rain outside the window. The television murmurs softly. During the commercial breaks, lies pour out in an almost unbroken stream. They are followed by a popular talk show, where year after year virtually the same people argue over the best way to live well without doing any actual work, and where to look for a justice that doesn’t exist. The guests play their roles as champions of law and order brilliantly. One shouldn’t forget, however, that it is merely a show, and the moment it ends, they immediately drop the act and rip off the masks. We coexist in such an era that, if I were suddenly to go deaf and mute in my old age, I wouldn’t regret it—I’d probably be all the healthier for it. Everything has already been said and heard by someone, somewhere. You hear less and less about the good, while problems and negativity only grow.

As for me, that way of looking at the world stopped interesting me long ago. Where did I leave my favorite, comfortable windbreaker? I think I’ll go for a walk. These days, I’ve come to love any weather…

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Article on treating the prostate with folk remedies and dietary supplements here: Français, Español, English, العربية, Türkçe, Deutsch, Italiano, Português, Język Polski, Русском, Українській.