The hardest thing I have ever written

As per the headline, those that know me know that I keep my emotional side in check. Only those that are truly close ever get to see inside my mind and heart. I am writing this as it affects so many and it is not talked about -IT SHOULD.

Before I start there are 2 things dear reader that you need to know. Firstly my father was born on Xmas eve and died of cancer when I was a child. Secondly my maternal grandfather died of cancer. Other relatives have died of cancer but these two, as you will see have a major impact on what follows.

Initially I was worried about going to the GP, hey its embarrassing. I came up with every excuse, blokes don’t do doctors and I haven’t got time to be ill. I even bought and did a home prostate test kit despite my fear of needles to reassure both of us. What a waste of money, it was wrong, don’t buy them go to the doctors guys.

So the doctor rings you when you are driving home from work, tells you your blood test result is high and she wants another one.Your first question “ so do I have cancer?” She reassures you that given your age it is doubtful but needs to check. From that moment forward the inclination is there, planted gently in your curiosity.

Who do you tell at this point? Your wife (the most wonderful, caring, loving, selfless best friend I have ever had), your mum, your siblings, your children, work associates? How do I tell people and when? I tell my wife, she is reassuring, both convinced this is just a mistake and will be sorted at the next blood test.

You then get referred for a scan followed by a biopsy. Still you are disbelieving externally, reassuring one another. In your head self doubt and disease plant a stake at the front of your mind and chain themselves to it. Now your every waking moment is overshadowed with thoughts of your impending demise. In your head you ARE dying but what to do.

Externally you must continue as though nothing is wrong, no one must know, its not their business, you don’t want to be viewed through pitying eyes. The world goes on. You go to work, to the gym, socialise and pretend everything is fine.

In your mind you stop worrying about yourself, your life is over and post death what does it matter. But what of those left behind? You need to make it painless as possible. Prepare them for their future as best you can. You plan your funeral, your will. You wish to carry on and make this time as good as it can be, a happy time. I was giving up work and taking my wife on a world cruise so her memories would be of that happy time. No drugs to increase a life but ruin a standard of life, life at is fullest until the end.

After the biopsy and the notice of the bone scan you know your worst fears and you cant keep it a secret for much longer. You decide to tell just your mum and work, but swear all to secrecy. You tell your golf partner because you know game will be affected and your gym trainer. All sworn to secrecy. One of the hardest things is telling you mum on the 24th December, the day of your deceased fathers birthday and the day before Xmas. She cried, it was very tough. One of the hardest thing I have ever had to say.

You are referred to oncology and results and treatment are better. There are many options and I wanted a quick fix job. My brilliant consultant convinced me otherwise.

You don’t tell your children. You don’t want to hurt them, they need not know, after all you will be fixed.

Now you need to deal with side effects and treatment. Daily pills for life (cock pills to keep a flow), 6 months of female hormone injections (lady boy jabs), tattoos to line up the radiography machine to the right spot (sniper targets). And then all the side effects mentioned on page one.

Your sex life stops immediately. You have no libido, desire, but your wife does. How is she feeling? Will the relationship cope with an important part of it missing? Does she realise that I still love her?

You tire, you can no longer work out for an hour at a time, it wanes off. How does this look to the others at the gym, are they secretly chuckling behind your back? You cant do your job fully, what being said at work? You go to bed at stupid o’clock and feel guilty about leaving your wife downstairs alone when you should be together for the evening.

Over the next six months life sort of goes on. But it is not really discussed. There was one day, my wife was cooking dinner, I was sitting keeping her company. From nowhere I simply apologised. ‘What for?’ She asked. I told her- sorry I was unable to help, sorry I was a burden, sorry for the time she has to spend looking after me, sorry I was not my normal self, sorry I was tired and sorry we weren’t able to have sex. I was a pitiful husband who didn’t deserve her. We cried together, the only time. The only time we discussed that we had the same hidden thoughts and that we would be strong together. I told her ‘ that’s ok, but do not wrap me in cotton wool, do not give me pity or sympathy’ – those were the rules and by and large we stuck to them.

During this time one thought preoccupies me, the treatment. Given the area to be treated and how they treat am I going to be naked from the waist down, legs in stirrups with the indignity of meat and 2 veg on show. No one tells you – this is their mistake as its an important thing for a bloke to know. In the event, your dignity is maintained, but in your ignorance you worry about this.

As time progressed I was reduced to golf in a buggy, so the club found out; gave up the gym, so they found out; it slipped out to the rest of the family, so they found out; work found out, associates found out. I felt humiliated and a leper, embarrassed and diseased! What a plonker – everyone especially work associates were phenomenally supportive.

Before radiography starts you go to get your sniper targets printed. After that was done all I wanted to do was run, run like Forest Gump and never look back. That is the reality setting in check.

Once radiotherapy started no more work for a month, that was difficult. My wife dutifully took me to Addenbrookes for my daily treatment, stopping at every toilet there and back – several times!One of the toilets is by the Macmillan shop and by wife became expert in leaflet selection while I was trying to empty my bladder before the onslaught. I truly felt the ultimate burden, but she never muted other than in total understanding. Sitting in the waiting area with fellow sufferers you chat. You chat about needing to pee, hot flushes, weight gain but never about sex or emotion, I found that strange but understandable.

The appointments schedule was pinned to the fridge and every day another one ticked off the list. As they go by the boredom of routine sets in, you do get fed up of going every day, knowing the full bladder toilets stops etc. The third week is the worst as its only just over half way!

You tell the consultant the last time you had sex the orgasm felt like blowing air through a straw. She confides that she knows but not through the books, through a fellow patient.

Now your thoughts turn towards rehab. When will I ever be able to maintain an erection? Will sperm return? Will I be able to go to the toilet properly ever again? Will I need a bag! Serious thoughts for the future. You talk about this with your consultant and although you anticipate good news until she says those words you don’t truly believe. It takes 2 days before it really sinks in.

You also think about your life, your mortality, you realise like never before that death is certain, just the death and method is unknown. You assess your life. What do you want to do with the rest of the time you have? Work, play? In what proportion? Can you achieve your goals?

Throughout the whole 9 months the emotional elements of this a far worse than the physical, they continue unabated every day, hour and minute, changing over time but forever there. I have never rolled over and been left for dead. I have accepted my fate for what it is and with my wife’s help embraced it and got on with what IS my life. You learn much about yourself and others around you, who are your true friends and who are just bystanders in life.

I hope to do a third blog, to make this a trilogy, to deal with progress and the future, but for now you will just have to wait, for that future is only just beginning.

I will thank wholeheartedly my wife, my family, friends and some who I have never met but have surprisingly offered amazing support through this minor inconvenience in my life.