On 8th July 2010, I was sat in front of a secondary care consultant. I asked specifically for this consultant for two reasons, firstly, he carried out a colonoscopy some 20 months previously which turned out to be negative. Secondly, my GP had referred me to the iron deficiency anaemia clinic, and they wanted to do ….. a colonoscopy.  I changed that plan because this “non-issue” was dragging on; quite frankly I wanted it to be resolved quickly, and I wanted it to be resolved in my favour – after all, I wasn’t actually ill

Rewind two months, I had an incidental set of blood tests ordered by a nurse following a routine visit to my local medical centre (……. “I think I’ve lost a bit of weight“).  My haemoglobin was low (even lower on repeat testing).  The GP compared my results to someone in their eighties with malnutrition. In hindsight, I should have been alarmed by that statement but instead, I went on holiday to Barbados.  Apparently, low haemoglobin is a sign of iron deficiency anaemia.  I suspected it would pass, either my blood results would revert to normal naturally, or they would after a prescription for some pills. That’s what normally happens, isn’t it?  I was so indifferent to the issue; I even delayed the blood tests by three weeks.

Back to 8th July 2010 ….I hadn’t really given him many clues but within minutes of chatting with the secondary care consultant (who was armed with the results of the negative colonoscopy test), he said “what are you doing this afternoon“.  I had no hesitation in saying “whatever you want me to do“. 


I might have still not totally believed I had anything wrong as I saw this as a chance to get an all-clear, get some pills, and get back to normal. 

To cut a long story short, the results confirmed I had metastatic cancer.  If you can see it, you can detect it. The scan didn’t confirm which type of cancer so further checks were planned. Following the scan results, I had a dozen other tests to narrow it down to Neuroendocrine Cancer (eventually confirmed by biopsy).  During these 2 weeks of tests, I finally confessed for the first time that I had been experiencing facial flushing and intermittent diarrhea. In those days, I wasn’t really in tune with my body, but I now know I had carcinoid syndrome. 

Just over a week before 8th July 2010, I had been sitting on a beach in Barbados sipping piña coladas with my wife and neither of us had any inkling that I had a serious life-threatening illness and that it had been growing inside of me for some years. Slow but sneaky? You betcha. They did some damage too – check out my treatment summary here.

I remain thankful to all those involved in the triggering of my ‘incidental’ diagnosis.  The Nurse who ordered the ‘just to be sure’ blood tests, the GP who immediately referred me to secondary care (increased my chances of being diagnosed quicker), the secondary care specialist who was instrumental in getting to the bottom of the problem in double-quick time.

My intransigence, denial and withholding vital symptoms from the doctors didn’t really help – there’s a lesson for all there.

You can hear me talk about my diagnosis by clicking this link