The Day everything changed
Cancer diaries, written in the moment.
I write these diaries ‘in’ the moment. It's a form of therapy, journalling, you may call it. Being diagnosed with cancer is awful, and I hope that if you are reading this, we can get through this together.
As I write these diaries , I have no idea of the ending of this story. Goodness knows I’m hoping for a happy ending, but sadly we cannot simply skip to the last page.
That said, none of this stops us hoping for a happy ending. These diaries will recount my own journey, one I hope is influenced by positivity both physically and mentally.
My name is David, but people call me Dar. I am a middling 47-year-old male who feels fit but suffers from stomach pain and cramps.
Those stomach pains became more acute during a visit to Glasgow in October 2024. They were not so bad that they could stop me in my tracks but bad enough that I could feel them while playing with my nephew. This stomach pain started in September.
Earlier in the year, as part of ultramarathon training, I'd stopped drinking alcohol for five months of the year, and I began to feel my stomach when I started drinking again in the summer. Again, it was nothing too bad, but enough to notice that I was bloated, that I was windy, and I was uncomfortable, so in September, I made an appointment to see the doctor.
Typically, that appointment was two weeks after I’d made it, and I tweaked my diet a little. I dropped some more alcohol. I reduced my caffeine intake. I added more fruit and vegetables to my diet and felt better, so I cancelled the appointment.
But here in November, I realised that it was back again, and I was thinking maybe I’ve got IBS, perhaps I’ve got IBD, maybe I’ve got an ulcer, and so I went to the doctor.
I didn’t think I had Cancer.
When I saw the doctor, she was lovely. She asked me about my symptoms. She examined my stomach, and as she pressed on the left-hand side of my stomach, she said:
“Does that hurt”?
My initial response was no, but it did a little bit when she released the press; the doctor gave me a look that, on reflection, makes me think this was the first time someone thought I had Cancer.
She then told me I need you to do some tests.
“They will be stool samples; whilst I don’t think you’ve got Cancer, we need to check”.
This was the first time that the C word was mentioned to me.
The next morning, I took my stool samples and dropped them off on the way to a friend’s birthday party in Whitstable. We had a lovely weekend, but I spent the weekend in a lot of pain, and I decided not to drink.
Ultimately, I had one glass of delicious wine that evening and all my friends had a great time. So did I but the pain was quite bad. Some oral night nurse helped me sleep.
On Thursday of that week, the results came through, but they came through in a text message. I was having a poor day already, this compounded it.
We need to speak to you urgently about a possible cancer diagnosis.
This nearly knocked me off my chair.
I achieved a high score for once in my life, but in this case, it wasn’t the high score you aim for. I had taken a FIT test. This is a ‘Q’antiv faecal immunochem test’ ‘or the medical profession, but let’s stick with FIT.
In this case, an acceptable score is 0 to 5. I learned that the FIT test measures blood in your stools. I have never had blood in any of my stools, not recently, not ever.
That said, I scored over 200 on that test. I've realised that some people score in the thousands, but at that moment, the thought that it could be Cancer first occurred to me, and I started to worry.
In the following weeks, I was due to attend events in Manchester and Helsinki, Finland, but I cancelled them because I was on a two-week waiting list for an urgent colonoscopy.
That urgent referral meant I could be called anytime in the next two weeks to make my appointment.
Luckily or unluckily, depending on your perspective, I’m minutes away from the hospital that performs colonoscopies. So I told them they could call me anytime, and I’d be ready to make my appointment.
What I didn’t know is that (A) I’d have to starve myself and (B) take a couple of drinks that would empty my bowel, and I mean REALLY EMPTY my bowel.
Over the next few days, I waited for my appointment, which was finally scheduled for Sunday, December 1!
I spent the Saturday and the Sunday close to the toilet. It was not dignified. It was not nice, but ultimately, it led me to December 1, when I had the colonoscopy that found the tumour.
Lying there on my side, I saw the ugly beast come into view, saying to the person with a camera up my arse, “That doesn't look good”…”.
“We‘’ll discuss it outside”,” was his response as he stuck a needle into it - I’d later learn that this was a biopsy.
Shit quite literally got real that day, and so the diaries begin.
Next time, diagnosis and diaries.
Thanks for reading Shit I've Got Cancer!
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