The family had just come back from a 2 week stay in France, on the Vendee, about 25 miles north of La Rochelle. We'd had a great time, sunshine for 2 weeks, great food, just the right amount of English people on the site, the majority being French. I had been swimming, dancing, canoeing, cycling, drinking, footballing, eating and playing tennis for 2 weeks solid.
So it was back to work on the 3rd September in my relatively new role in Product Management.
A week or so had passed when a colleague stopped me and asked if I had been losing weight. The thought had nagged at me as well recently as I had noticed that my cheekbones were becoming a bit gaunt. I told him that I had been exercising more and had steadily lost weight over the summer. I had downloaded "100 press ups in 6 weeks" app onto my iPhone and had persevered with it. I had improved my performance from only being able to do nine press ups at the beginning of the programme to being able to do sixty two in a row. I remember walking away from my colleague feeling worried about my appearance.
Sleeping was becoming a problem
I went to bed on Saturday night and was restless, when suddenly like a switch being turned on I felt a dull ache in my kidney area, It felt like a gun being pressed into my back and no matter what position I moved into, it hurt all the same. I managed to fall asleep only to wake up totally saturated from chin to toe. I thought I had peed the bed. I awoke and when I was active in the day, I didn't feel the ache anymore but the next night it returned and so did the sweats. I was absolutely dripping wet, the pain was a lot worse and I could only sleep in one position which was kind of like spiderman climbing a building.
I did nothing for 3 days and finally plucked up the courage to go to a doctor. I had blood test results due back on the Friday from a totally different matter, or so I thought, from before my holiday. However after investigating the doctor said I needed an ultrasound to have a better look. The appointment was booked for 3 weeks time.
Then on Thursday I got a message from the doctors to go in to see them asap, which was unusual but I remained detached as work was keeping me busy. Something had come up on the blood tests and they wanted to see me. I thought the doctor was being slightly vague as he was talking about trying to rule things out as they weren't sure how to play it. He asked if I minded if he rang the registrar at York Hospital. I sat beside him listening to half a conversation and finally he put the phone down. The registrar wanted me to go to York Hospital that day with an overnight bag, they wanted to perform an x-ray, ultrasound and Cat scan to ascertain the problem.
I arrived at York hospital and was admitted to the Admissions ward; I don't know if the ward is normally like this or if I hit unlucky, but I was suddenly plunged into another world of confused old people crying out angrily and resisting treatment. A 90 year old opposite me thought I was going to attack him and kept shouting that I was out of bed when I hadn't moved a muscle. The guy next to me seemed to be constantly in tears shouting "Why nurse?". I pulled my curtains shut trying to comprehend what was happening to me. The nurses told me no treatment would happen until Monday so I was staring at the weekend in hospital. Later that day I was moved to a different ward which was a lot calmer and quieter. Absolutely nothing happens at the weekend at York hospital.
On Monday I had my scans, on Monday evening a doctor came to talk to me and confirmed that I had a tumour on the side of my kidney and all the signs were that it was Cancer. The last week or so had been so surreal that confirmation didn't seem to have a devastating affect on me. Then I realised I had to tell my wife and kids and the rest of my family......
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