At the risk of making you think this blog about animal welfare and justice is a mere vanity project, I need to take a little excursus from the normal animal welfare topic and tell you about the journey I am going through at the moment, as I feel there is an important message for others and also to help me a little. I have had to step away from the animal welfare work for a short time, so in a way, this is me explaining why. I want it to be heartfelt, and honest. I will swear, I will make light of things and I will be serious. Unfortunately, there's a lot to say, so if you want to read it all, you might want to do it in more than one go.
On New Year’s Eve, although I didn’t realise it, life was
about to change completely. The biology was already happening but my focus on
it changed that day and it was, in the grand scheme of things, a turning point.
I had noticed something strange about my body and whilst it was out of the
ordinary, there was no lump. So I had done the typical Gavin thing and filed
the problem for dealing with later.
I am not shy or prudish about this and will share
completely. One testicle was firm. And I mean firm. Like a marble.
But there was no lump.
It was a while before I had decided to do anything and it
was New Year’s Eve that I asked my partner what he thought. No, it hadn’t come
up in conversation before, and it hadn’t been noticed by him as it isn’t something
that you would notice if you weren’t looking for it. I wasn’t imagining it. He
confirmed that it was not normal and that I should go to a doctor. My heart
sank. He asked me how long it had been like this. My heart sank further,
because I didn’t know, but knew enough to say it was a long time.
Being New Year’s Eve the doctor was unavailable until 4th
January. So I called, but didn’t really know what options to select. Was I urgent?
Routine? I went with routine. I explained what I had noticed and was told an
appointment wasn’t available for two weeks. Then a pause. ‘What did you say it
was again?’ The tone of the call changed. Turns out I wasn’t routine. I was
urgent. In fact it was so urgent that I had to speak with a doctor that day.
They would call me that afternoon. I got off the phone and burst into tears.
This didn’t sound good. My partner was at work and I was home alone. Panic set
in. What I didn’t know was just how awful those feelings of panic would become
over the coming weeks.
So I spoke to the doctor. She was perplexed by the symptom I
described and asked about other symptoms. She was quite interested in my neck
pain that has caused me problems for a while. She wanted to know how long.
Months. I hadn’t got it sorted. Had I lost weight? I knew the reason she was
asking all these questions. I felt good that I was putting weight on, not
losing it. Never had I been so pleased to be overweight!
But there was no lump.
She said I clearly had to have a physical examination. In
the circumstances it would normally be on the same day. My heart sank again. Fuck.
I have had this for months. They are acting on the same day. What the Hell have
I done by not going sooner? Due to how busy they were they couldn’t see me
until the next day. Would a female doctor be ok? I wouldn’t worry about that
anyway but now especially, I couldn’t care who did it. I just wanted it done.
Next day I went. Never before have I prepared myself for a
woman in that area! Well, I know things get sweaty especially with stress, so I
had to laugh at myself when I ensured it would be as pleasant experience for
her as it could be. The first time I was tidying up for a woman, and quite
possibly depending on how things went not the last. Genuinely, I found it
amusing. And worrying at the same time. The doctor made me very comfortable and
appreciated it might be weird for me and how I could preserve my modesty as
much as possible. I told her I wasn’t at all bothered by that. So she examined
me and would have to refer me for cancer but she thought it was infection. The fact
the whole testicle was hard was unusual, I don’t think she thought it was
cancer as a result. A glimmer of hope! That’s why I hadn’t done anything! There
was no lump and it seemed to me the doctor felt (literally) it was not the normal
presentation.
But I would be seen within two weeks. That was I would be scanned
and consulted. It was all moving so fast, it was now only the 5th January.
I got a call later that day. My ultrasound was the next day. I was happy with
this, as it meant we could rule out cancer quickly. I had the ultrasound the
next day, and as we discussed it, the sonographer was perplexed by my
suggestion that it was the whole testicle that was hard, like it was something
she had never heard of before. She did the scan and as poker faced as she was,
something wasn’t right. She said my GP would contact me within a few days, probably
mid-week the week after. I went to work the next day with a lot of worry but I
tried to carry on as normal. My phone went, I was hoping it was the GP to tell
me all was ok. But it was the hospital to book me in with a consultant. Now
this wasn’t unusual, I knew that I had to see a consultant. It was booked for
the following Friday. I asked if I would still hear from my GP, but she said it
was unlikely, that the appointment was to discuss the results and what happens
next. What happens next. That phrase was like a bullet. I couldn’t work that day,
I went home. And so began one of the worst weeks of my life, waiting to hear
the results.
Of course the main thought was “is that it then?”. I thought
that maybe I wouldn’t see the year out and be gone before Christmas. I had just
had a nice long Christmas break, and it was nice to spend some time at home.
Maybe I wouldn’t get that again. I remembered silly things. In December, whilst
Christmas shopping with a friend, something we do every year and have done for nearly
20 years, we had lunch as we always do, and I said to her that if I wasn’t here
next year that she should still do this. It was a joke. We joke about how time goes
by and how we get old. But those words came back to me and were like a knife to
the chest. Then there was New Year’s Day, putting away the Christmas decorations.
Me and my other half had a very minor disagreement about how to put the lights away.
For some reason I had thought about how if I wasn’t here when they were
unpacked how it would be a horrible thing for him to remember and felt bad. By
then I was already worried about the situation so I suppose that is where it
came from, but nevertheless it was a heartbreaking thing to recall then.
What would our dog think when I suddenly wasn’t there any more?
How would my family cope? What about all the things I still had to learn, as a
physicist there is still so much to learn about the Universe. What about all the places we like to go on holiday. How many will I get to see again?
What about the charity? What about all the other animals I wanted
to help? There were still too many things I had to do. Dying is not an option.
I hadn’t at this stage told my mother. I couldn’t. The
waiting was killing me, it would destroy her. She had to know only when I knew.
My step-father had only just been in hospital after a fall. I hadn’t seen him.
I had to go round, but I knew it would be difficult for me not to say anything.
I managed it though.
I returned to work. It was really tough, although the
teaching took my mind off things for a while. I hadn’t discussed it with the
students. I had only told a very few people who needed to know. As the time
went on I convinced myself it was just an infection. It had started to hurt
more. But my chest had started to get tight. I was getting pains elsewhere too.
The anxiety was getting to me.
Other strange thoughts came to me too. For instance, as I
joked, it would be embarrassing if it wasn’t cancer, all the fuss I was making.
Then I felt bad to think such a thing. I had to be strong, but was struggling,
and I wondered if I was being weak. Others deal with this, others actually have
cancer and deal with it. I didn’t even know what was wrong.
It was cancer.
The appointment with the consultant came around. I was very
calm that morning. Of course worried, but strangely calm too. The news was
quick. Blood test results were fine. But there were the ultrasound results. I
did have cancer. It had been in me for a while.
Fuck.
I cannot describe how it feels to be told that. We surely
all know someone who has had it. We’ve seen it. We think we know how it would
feel. It isn’t like you imagine at all. I didn’t cry when he told me. I knew what
it was now. There was no anxious wait. I was on autopilot. I had to get through
the appointment. I was lucky though, because he could put my mind at rest.
He had never had anyone die from this. If he had to have
cancer, this is the cancer he would choose. I laughed at this. Nor sure he did,
but I found it funny. I asked, as I have had it a long time, what if it has
spread? He told me the prognosis wouldn’t change, I would be fine. We discussed
my chest pains, but he said I didn’t look ill and he didn’t think it had
spread. He was referring me for a full body CT scan and surgery within one to
two weeks. After he had finished this consultation I went with the nurse to
talk further.
I got in the room with her and burst into tears. At that
point it hit me, but she reassured me. She said it was hard to receive that
news, but that I should know I was not going to die. After chatting, I had to
go to the main hospital building for a preassessment for surgery. I couldn’t believe
how quickly it was happening. I had to wait to be taken over to the hospital. I
had just one or two minutes to tell my partner and best friend it was cancer. I
had to do it by WhatsApp message. I knew they would want to know and I didn’t
know how long I was going to be.
Whilst waiting for my preassessment it hit me hard. The
tears just would not stop. I couldn’t believe it. I had cancer. I never thought
it would happen to me. We know just how common it is, yet nothing had every
prepared me for receiving that news. That is why I wanted to share this. What
you get in a quick advert is not enough. It is so much more complex than that.
I got back home and had a Bailey’s coffee. And then a beer.
There was still something bad that had to be done. I had to tell my mum.
She took it ok, I did tell her as quickly as I could that I
would be fine, and all the positive things the consultant and nurse had said.
She was upset of course. But she has shown strength in this. My closest family
and friends have been amazing. Work has been amazing.
More people had to be told. It was time to tell my students,
they had a right to know. I had to tell some more friends who also had a right
to know. It was strange. That phrase. “I have cancer”.
The pains in my chest and tummy were always there now and
they were getting worrying. I had a tumour marker blood test on that day I was
told I had cancer. Being a Friday I had to wait until the Monday for the
results. It was agonising, but they were fine. The chest and tummy pains got
much better almost immediately. However, only a CT scan would be conclusive.
That was booked in for the following Friday. Potentially another wait over a
weekend.
I had the CT scan, and the results were available that afternoon.
After catching a glimpse of my scan with some worrying dark blobs in my tummy
area, I was told they were clear. It hadn’t spread. Next thing was the surgery.
It is booked for 4th February. The cancer will
need to be analysed to see what treatment I might need going forward.
Once I had the CT scan results it was time for me to tell everyone.
I didn’t want to hide this. I wanted to tell people to check themselves. It isn’t
always a lump. It is sometimes not what you would expect. And it isn’t
necessarily terrible. The support I have received from friends on Facebook has
been immense. I have received all kinds of support on Twitter from strangers,
both public comments and private messages, people sharing their experiences, or
just offering their support. Perhaps one of the nicest messages was from a friend
on Facebook. She had been diagnosed with cancer on Christmas Eve, and had only
told close family and friends, but seeing my post had encouraged her to share her
news, to get people checking themselves. I haven’t seen her for ten years, but
instantly I felt a connection with her. We are not alone in this, we all have others
to support us, and we have an important message. Check yourself and get
emotional support from others. I look forward to celebrating with her when we
can both say we beat cancer.
And we will.
Check yourselves. Find out what to look for. There isn’t
always a lump. I am so thankful that I mentioned it to my other half. If I hadn’t
would I still be ignoring it? What would have happened if I had continued to
ignore it? I think it is not too melodramatic to say he has saved my life.