It took 3 weeks from first diagnosis for York to plan what happened next. The diagnosis wasn't good. I had a 10cm diameter tumour on the side of my left kidney, not only that, it had grown up the kidney vein and had developed up into the Vena Cava which is a major artery that carries blood from the legs to the right atrium of the heart. The tumour was almost completely blocking this artery. To compensate, the blood finds other veins and arteries to get back to the heart.
This all added up to a major operation, York clumsily told me the severity of my situation and then told me they weren't skilled enough to perform the operation. The way this was communicated to me was extremely unprofessional and dismissive given the circumstances, the doctor explained my situation using a diagram drawn on a bit of scrap paper. They had to refer me to Leeds St James under the care of Doctor Prescott. I was given a date when they could see me, I would hear from Leeds in 2 weeks after their Multi Discipline Team meeting (MDT) and then an appointment would be made which could be another 3 weeks.
When you have been given news so shoddily like I had, you want to talk to a Doctor straight away, I decided to approach Doctor Prescott privately and was able to get an appointment the next day at the Spire Hospital in Leeds.
Dr Prescott reiterated what York had said but managed to inject a degree of positivity. York had frankly started measuring me up for my box.
Although it was a major operation, it was not an uncommon operation for Dr Prescott to perform, He said he performed around 10 a year which comforted me. The danger, he said, was how far the tumour had got up the Vena Cava, if it had passed the diaphragm, a different operation would need to be performed which involved temporarily stopping the heart and therefore it heightened the dangers on the operating table. I had to wait for an MRI scan before they knew.
I was told not to exert myself given the situation with the weakened Vena Cava, I had 10 days to wait before the MRI.The operation was also a logistical nightmare as a number of specialists needed to be available just in case. The days were turning into weeks and now months with this god awful thing inside me.
Physically I didn't know what to do, I had a lack of energy, had a constant ache in my kidney area, especially at night and was given painkillers. I had slowed down completely and found it hard to walk although I kept pushing it everyday, I could do about half a mile before being exhausted. In the summer before my illness I had started a press ups campaign that had got me fitter and I had started road cycling as well, so I was probably fitter than I had been since I stopped playing football 5 years before.
I had rung my employer as I needed to be signed off work. I must say they have behaved brilliantly throughout this time.
Family life was strained, we told our kids what was happening and that I had a big operation coming up. They didn't appear to be upset as we tried to reassure them the best we could without lying to them. Fred, our eldest would get upset at bedtimes and mum would try and calm him down.
My wife took time off work to look after me, things were weird.
I had a lot of guests coming round, mostly family, a lot of nice words were said and motivation was given.
I finally had the MRI and thankfully the tumour had not got passed the Diaphragm which meant the more dangerous operation was not needed. I still had a major operation to remove a tumour the size of a grapefruit, to also remove my left adrenal gland and to then scrape the tumour out of the Vena Cava.
This op required a pre operation to cauterise the blood vessels that fed the kidney, The date was set for the 1st November 2012 for the biggest, most dangerous operation I had ever faced and the uncertainty at the other end of it all that it may not be enough to stem the progression of the Cancer.
My sheer desperation reminded me of Elias on the cover of Platoon
My children, 2 boys, Freddie aged 11 at the time and Logan aged 8 who offer me unconditional love each and every day, who look up to me, who worship me, need me, would Logan remember me if I died?
Would my wife re-marry? would my kids call someone else "Dad"?, what does dying feel like, does it hurt? I don't want to die, I love myself, I am my biggest fan, I love the voice in my head, he makes me laugh, he's talking to me now and singing to The Smiths, The boy with the Thorn in his Side as I write.That's amazing!
I love to think, to laugh, to cry , to sneeze, to make love, I love my arms, my legs, my belly button, my lips, ears, elbows. Where does all that go, snuffed out, forgotten, I become the stuff of memories, brought up in pub conversations, my grave visited from time to time.
Sorry to be morbid here but these are very real thoughts when your card hand looked the way mine did in October 2012.
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