Sunday 19th May 2019
“Natural ability is important, but you can go far without it if you have the focus, drive, desire and positive attitude.” —  Kirsten Sweetland

Back during cycle 2, I was longing to get back to normal, and do some exercise etc etc. I really wanted a goal:

30th Jan 2019 – “Today I’ve been daydreaming about getting back to normality, in particular exercising. I have the cycle ride in September to focus on, and it will need lot of training to get me there. Some folks at work are doing the 10km Manchester Run towards the end of May, that sounds like something a bit closer that I could manage. I could get (slow) 10k ready in 6 weeks, which gives me a few weeks to recover from the chemo first. I’d be happy just to jog the whole thing without stopping, walk it even. I like goals and it’s a good one to go after, cardio helps the bike work too. I’m just dying to get back out there…“

Later that day, I signed up for it and that was that. If I had to walk it, I’d walk it but it was a goal to look forward to. In all honesty, I really wanted to run the whole thing without walking, and do it in under an hour. Those were my goals.

I was back on my bike pretty much straight after finishing the chemo, commuting to work and knocking around on it to build my fitness. It took a few weeks before I felt like running, but when I did it was bloody difficult. Plagued with calf and ankle pains, I wasn’t getting far very quickly and I kinda ignored it due to that and focussed on my bike riding which came back slowly and steadily, along with my cardio ability. I became quite disheartened at how badly the running was going, conceded that my goals were a bit too much of a stretch and to just go out and enjoy the event and not worry about achieving a particular time. I also stopped running so much.

With 1 week to go, I had only managed to run 2.5km without stopping, so I decided to bite the bullet and try a 4 mile run last Sunday. Mainly to see how much pain I’d be in afterwards! I managed just less than a mile before needing to walk, and in total did a run/walk/run/walk of 4.1 miles in about 43 minutes. That pace would bring me in for a 10km at around the 1 hour 5 minute mark, although more likely up to 1 hour 10 mins as I was knackered and would be walking more in the extra 2 miles. Hey ho.

I’ve been really looking forward to it all week. I’ve done it 4 times before around 2008 – 2012, and I know that the buzz of the crowd, the bands and music along he way, and the atmosphere in general is really motivating. I’d commuted to the office and back on my bike all 5 days this week and I’m pretty quick again now so my cardio fitness is good. Just not my running muscles.

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Anyhow, the time came, and it didn’t disappoint. There’s so many folks doing it for so many different reasons. The atmosphere is great whilst waiting for the start, so much excitement. Spotting the chap infront’s vest, running for child bereavement with a picture of his daughter, is just one of many examples that brings it home, everyone has challenges of their own however big or small. The chap behind read the message on my back of why I was running for the Christie, shook my hand and said well done 🙂 People are great.

I’ve been telling myself for the last week, I can break the hour. It would be super unlikely, but I could do it. All morning, I was telling myself to give it my best and I could do it. I knew I had to run 9m39s mile pace to break the hour. I set off and for the first couple of km I was running at 9m10s pace, which I was happy with as I knew later in the race when I had to do some walking that I’d have banked some time.

All the way to 5km, I felt great, none of the usual aches around my calf and ankle. I was still at 9m10s pace and felt ok. Legs were getting a bit sore, but cardio wise I wasn’t really out of breath. So I plodded on. The support from the sidelines, kids and grown ups of all ages, with banners and signs like “you can do it” and “you are amazing” really is motivating. I’d picked another runner as my pacer, she was in a bright green t-shirt and running the perfect pace for me, so I thought as long as I kept her in my sights then I’d be ok. Past the 5km mark there was a chap on the floor being defibrillated, I hope he was ok. It was pretty quiet and sombre for a short while after that. There’s nothing in the news about any casualties so fingers crossed.

Up to 7km and The Christie bus was there so I got a big cheer, and I was still going at 9m10s pace. All along, I thought the 2nd half of this race would just be pain, and walking, and being a bit downbeat about not hitting my goals, therefore being quite an emotional struggle. Quite the opposite, by this point for the first time I had the belief that I could just keep going at this same pace and nail it, and I couldn’t stop smiling. And so I did…

The last 2km was hard, but I kept it going and I didn’t need to use any of that “banked” time to walk. Instead I’d smash my goals 🙂 I had to text Jayne and my Sister to let them know I was ahead of time, they were trying to find a spot close to the finish line. As I got towards the finish line, I sped up a bit and in the last 20 metres, I had my arms out in the air like a footballer celebrating the goal. As I crossed the line, I leaped up in the air and did a massive fist pump, it felt absolutely amazing.

57 minutes and 29 seconds. I’m still blown away by that, on a massive high. Compared to last Sunday’s 4 mile effort, it was a crazy improvement. My sister and Shane were just past the line and managed to get some pictures and a video of me crossing the line. A little further down were Jayne and the boys waiting for me with some big high 5’s.

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In the 5 times I’ve run the Great Manchester 10km (and I’ve never really been a runner or trained properly before), this was my PB. I’d done it between 58 mins and 1hr 7mins all those years ago. The fastest I’ve run 10km on a training run is 54 minutes something back in 2017, so today’s effort in the context of this year was just fantastic.

I met up with the family, and we wandered down to the charity marquee to say hi to the folks from The Christie. I decided not to get a massage, just milled around for a bit while the boys took advantage of the “free merch” and took as much as they could. Then off home before the legs seized up, which they are now well on the way to doing.

Just a quick reminder that I’m not just doing this for my own recovery, I’m doing it to raise money for a truly special place. Thank you so much to everyone that has donated so far – https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/chemophil

So if the all clear appointment a few weeks back drew a line under the diagnosis side of things, then this well and truly draws a line under the recovery, 10 weeks on from my last treatment. From now on it’s all behind me.

The only 2 lingering consequences of my chemo are that my hair still hasn’t fully grown back, and I’m struggling really badly with itchy hands. It’s driving me mad at points and it’s sometimes keeping me awake at night, but I’m coping. The pain in my fingers has gone, and I guess this is this itching malarkey is final part of the healing process so I’ll bear with it.

Such an inspirational, emotional and motivating day. Like so many signs pointed out today, if you put your mind to it, “you can do it”….

Sunday 5th May 2019
“Cancer didn’t bring me to my knees, it brought me to my feet.” —  Michael Douglas

So the day finally arrived, I got my results. All Clear !

Most of last week, I was really quite distracted by the prospect of results day coming up. I have been so focussed for so long on this being the end of my journey, and hearing that the treatment had worked, but for the first time the “what if’s” crept in. It was hard to concentrate on other things, as with each day passing I was thinking about it more and more. I was just wishing the week away and clinging on for Friday.

I’d took the whole day off so I could chill out before going to the hospital. Jayne did too so we walked the kids to school, pottered around the house for a while then did a little shopping before we went to the hospital. Some more enjoyable “us” time.

Usual routine, turn up an hour early, have blood taken. Then we grabbed some lunch in the restaurant while waiting for 2pm, and wandered to the waiting area. It was only a short wait before we got called to sit in a consultation room, but then the 5 minute wait for the Dr to arrive felt like it took forever !

But in he came, fired up the computer and in a really understated way whilst looking at the screen, he uttered the words “everything’s fine.” There was no trace on my CT scan of any enlarged lymph nodes or anything else problematic. It was totally clear. He did make reference to the fact I didn’t have Iodine as part of the scan, but that whilst the scan results were less clear, they were still sufficient to be sure.

Jayne and I looked at each other, beaming smiles, and carried on listening to what he had to say. I did a mini double fist pump in her direction. It went exactly how I had hoped it would. He went into a bit more detail, and then he talked me through what being on Surveillance for 5 years will entail. I also asked about my hands, the sensitivity (peripheral neuropathy) and if there’s anything that can be done to speed up the healing. He recommended just giving it time. There are some anti-depressants that can help, but that doesn’t sound appealing and he wasn’t too keen on taking that approach. I can cope with it, and it sounds like time should heal it. Funnily enough he didn’t have the lung and hearing test results, although I did get the headlines of each on the day I had the tests.

So for 5 years, I’ll have regular checkups. Year 1, every 3 months. Year 2, every 4 months. Years 3 to 5, every 6 months. Apparently guys who have had testicular cancer in one nut, are more likely to develop it in the other one, particularly where there is family history (although none in my family.) However, for those that have had chemo, it’s less likely because the chemo kills off even the earliest of early cancer cells. If I’d been stage 1, i.e. nut removed but no need for chemo because it hadn’t spread, then I’d be on surveillance for 10 years !

Each surveillance appointment is an examination, and blood test. Not as I had suspected, a CT scan each time. He said it will be likely I’ll have a CT scan after a year. Either way, the purpose is to make sure nothing comes back / starts up. For now though, it’s just great to know it was there, and now it’s gone. I beat it !

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We both walked out with our heads held high, I’m no longer a cancer patient ! It felt like a victory parade, being absolutely chuffed to bits. We had a few photo’s outside, then we walked back to the car and I called my Mum, then my Dad to let them know. It must have been a huge relief for them to get that call. We picked up Luke and Parker on the way home, and went home to have a quiet night, let it all sink in.

We got to drink that bottle of champagne that’s been chilling since December. The kids seemed a bit underwhelmed with the news. On the surface, they haven’t seemed too bothered by the whole experience, I think because I handled the treatment so well and they didn’t get to see a huge change in me. We told them the good news and they were like “great, can we have some treats to have while we watch the movie tonight?” Kids ! I’m so glad they don’t have anything to worry about.

That was it, a quiet family night to celebrate. I deliberately hadn’t discussed any plans for if I got the good news, because I’m not one to tempt fate. In my usual logical way, like my philosophy of trying not to worry about something if there’s nothing to worry about, don’t celebrate until you have something to celebrate ! We quickly organised a BBQ for Saturday which was really well attended. I got cards, gifts, a balloon, and lots of hugs. Jayne gave a mini speech, then we partied outside with the fire pit on. I let my hair down a bit, had a good amount of booze, but it was great to be celebrating with friends and family. It was well worth the hangover.

And that’s it for now. I’ll retire the regular blogs, but if there’s any key things happening then I’ll write one every now and again. I might write after I’ve done the 10km run in a few weeks, and when I have my first appointment in July/August time.

Just a few reflections on the journey. I’ve met some great people along the way, some of them were fighting their own battle, and couldn’t hope for anything near as good of the outcome I was always odds on to get. It’s quite sad reflecting on that, but I’m grateful to have known them for the short period of time where our paths crossed.

The Christie is an amazing place. If you do have to go there, no patient really wants to have a reason be there, but it’s an exceptional place that’s mostly full of hope and positivity in my experience. The staff are fantastic, from the folks who bring you your meals, all the nurses, the volunteers, and the Dr’s who have managed my case the whole way through. In a weird way having embraced the journey I had to go on, I’ve enjoyed my time there. I still want to fundraise for them, and I’m half way to my goal… https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/chemophil

I know some of you have told me you’ll miss the blog, it was a daily event for you. I’m glad it was well received, and I’m glad it will live on. I can read it back in years to come, I can show it to the kids when they’re older. Hopefully they’ll have a sense of pride reading it back that they are a bit too young to understand just now. Then there’s the reason I wanted to do it in the first place, for other unfortunate souls in a similar predicament to read my experience and hopefully benefit from it. On a daily basis, it’s being read worldwide.

To everyone that has read my blog, friends, family & strangers. Thank you. It’s been a lonely place at times, sat in a hospital bed alone or sat at home feeling crappy and trying to keep busy. Messages, conversations, facebook banter, encouraging me to shave a mohawk etc etc, I can’t tell you how much it helped me through, it was priceless and I’ll never forget it. They are some of my better memories of the journey. I hope I never have to return the favour, but you can count on it if you need me.

My friends at work, in my old and my new job have been mega supportive, which made a huge difference with one potentially major worry not being on my mind. Being able to come and go when I could, kept me sane and mentally well. You might have thought I was as daft as a brush keeping working, but if I had to do it all again I wouldn’t do anything differently. It’ll be great to get back without this in the back of my mind any more.

My family have been great, at what must have been a horribly worrying time. Each played their own part whether it was my Dad playing chauffeur for my chemo trips (or the 2.30am rush job because I fell ill,) my Mum for showing her loving support when she’s not having the easiest time even without me worrying her, and my sister for checking up on me nearly every day and coming over to visit with Xander to keep me company when she could. Messages and support came from across the pond too, from Jayne’s family.

Then there is Jayne. Jayne has been incredible. It wasn’t an easy time at home as you can imagine, I spent 9 days in hospital in total, and the rest of the time being about half as effective as I normally would be. But between us, we made sure the boys lives were not turned upside down, that things kept going as normal, and that was really important. She supported me when I wanted to keep working, or go out on my bike with the kids, because she knows what I’m like ! She’s been at my side at all the important milestone appointments, and above all she’s looked after me. I can’t imagine how I’d have felt in her shoes, but she kept it together so well the whole time.

I’ve learnt a few things about myself too. I surprised myself with how well I got through it. I’m normally laid back about things, and calm in a crisis, but I honestly thought it would be tougher than it was. Some of you have kindly said I got through it relatively easily because of how I approached it, with positivity and determination, and the word inspirational pops up over and over. To me, I just did what I needed to do, in the way I normally do things.

All that’s left to do now is go forth and grow my hair back, then other than the occasional letter dropping on my doorstep with an appointment time, there’ll be no reminders about ever having this godforsaken disease. Not that I want to forget it, I just want to move on from it. And now, I finally can…