I was well into the ‘diagnostic phase’, having had all sorts of tests including a liver biopsy. I vividly remember thinking these tests were a ‘nuisance’, I was far too busy and I didn’t even feel ill. In hindsight, I was fortunate to have had such a thorough bunch of physicians who diagnosed me with metastatic Neuroendocrine Cancer in about 6 weeks ‘flash to bang’. I intentionally use a phrase associated with ‘quick’ because in the world of Neuroendocrine Cancer, 6 weeks is ‘warp speed’.
So, why was I admitted to hospital during the diagnostic phase? Because I was stupid. In fact I was double-stupid. Firstly, despite having had to undergo a liver biopsy and a referral to an Oncologist, I was in a dismissive frame of mind and was blanking out any thought that I actually had cancer. I didn’t have time for it, I was far too busy. I’m in control! Secondly, despite being told to take it easy after the liver biopsy, I ignored that advice because I was far too busy getting on with a normal life. After all, this is just another test hurdle and I’ll get the all clear. Other people get Cancer but not me.
On the weekend following the liver biopsy, the family came round, so I decided to do normal things like lifting one of my grandsons up (….as one does) and I prepared the BBQ which involved lifting a 13.5kg cannister of gas from the garage onto the patio. Why not? I didn’t have anything wrong with me and I didn’t even feel ill.
However, as that Saturday afternoon progressed so did the pain; and to the point that I knew I had to seek help. To cut a long story short, I was eventually admitted to hospital for what was to be diagnosed as a bleed on my liver at the biopsy site. Oh how the mighty fall.
I didn’t even feel ill – until I was ill.
On the positive side, I got another bunch of tests including scans as confirmation (….a second opinion from a different hospital). However, it was the wake-up call I needed to take it seriously. I was discharged on the Monday in time for my very first Oncology appointment with my wife Chris in attendance. For the first time, we were officially told I had Cancer – it was much more than just a ‘scare’. For me, the denial was over, indicating that I was never actually in control of what was happening to me.
It really is OK to talk about Cancer
p.s. I’m now slightly mellower about my cancer, you might say I’m back in control.
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