Leather Anniversary

I’ve just passed another significant milestone on my cancer journey. It is nine years since I was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer of the kidney. I remember the occasion vividly. I had spent a night on a trolley in A&E with excruciating pain in my left side. In the morning, it was Good Friday, I was scanned. The young doctor who gave me the result was matter of fact. The tumour had grown significantly beyond my kidney and had travelled most of the way up my vena cava towards my heart. I remember shrinking down into the bed as the world closed in on me. He asked me if I had any questions. I could hardly speak. I thought that I was going to die.

When I saw the consultant the next day, I found my voice. I asked him what my chances of survival were. He gave me an odd answer. He said ‘I can tell you the average outcome for people with the type of tumour you have’, and went on to offer a poor prognosis. ‘But I can’t tell you what will happen to you, because that is written in the stars.’

At the time, I found his answer puzzling and very irritating. I was in a terrible predicament and I wanted clear answers. In retrospect, I can see that it was a good answer. Medical experts can only ever tell you what the average outcome is for people in your situation. Because how an individual responds to a disease, and vice versa, varies enormously. There are so many factors that make a difference to the outcome, from genetics to levels of health and fitness, to factors that we just don’t understand yet

I went on to have a series of major operations as well as two recurrences, but my worst fears are yet to be realised. I thank my lucky stars that I have come through this ordeal. So far, so good; for I am now over three years clear of cancer. I’m due another surveillance scan next month, but I expect that will be delayed. A year or so ago I ran into the same consultant again. He explained that he hadn’t expected me to live beyond the first two years and told me that my recovery had been ‘miraculous’.

I don’t know exactly what I’ve done, or not done, to have a better than expected outcome. I do my best to live well, eat healthily and keep fit. The poor old body has had a lot of surgery and there is plenty of scar tissue and physical limitation. But every morning I do a set of Pilates-type exercises. And each day I do some exercise in the outside world, either cycling or walking. I was told that my levels of health and fitness helped me to get through the series of major operations I had.

I don’t drink alcohol, not out of principle, it just doesn’t agree with me anymore. Besides, one of the major reasons why I used to drink, a stressful job, has gone as I took early retirement not long before I got cancer. I live surrounded by fields and farms, a relaxing environment with low levels of air pollution (apart from when the fields are being spread with slurry). But perhaps, most important of all, I am happily settled down with T in a loving relationship, and have been for the best part of seven years. This gives me enormous stability and great peace of mind. She is my rock and I cannot imagine life without her.