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…