Case Study Five:
It
all started when I was 72. I was healthy, fit, and enjoying life. I had given
up 25 years of racing my own big yachts, I had recently learned to fly, bought
an aeroplane and had taken up recreational aviation as a lifestyle. Life was
great.
Late
2011 my visit to my doctor was because I had started losing weight, 15 kilos in
6 months. Yes, I had started healthier living for my pilots medical, but this
was a bit concerning. Doc was too. A blood test revealed my PSA was 12.5, a
high likelihood of prostate cancer. Now, until then I had thought that PSA
stood for the Public Service Association or a Kiwi Fruit disease, not something
that was going to change my life forever. My doctor had only ever been
interested in my cholesterol and my blood pressure, and now he was telling me I
had cancer.
What
was interesting was that I had no other symptoms. No prostate enlargement, (oh
that dreaded test), no urinary problems, no discomfort, just my weight loss
which he questioned was caused by it. He scheduled another blood test for six
months later. I panicked and had one done in two months, by then my PSA was
16.5 This thing was moving fast.
So
off I went to a urologist, Kim Broome, in my home town of Hastings, who took a
biopsy which diagnosed advanced
and aggressive prostate
cancer. I asked for a prognosis, he said that being late with the diagnosis
meant that my life expectancy would be a few years, perhaps as little as two or
three, unless I had serious treatment right now. The treatment he recommended
was a course of eight weeks of radiation treatment in Palmerston North and
hormone treatment for as long as required, perhaps for ever.
With
that he said he would give me an 80% chance of five years. I said, “that’s
rubbish, you make this go away, I am having too much fun to die”. He
promised me that he would do his best.
So
I came home, patted my dog, and said to her, “Well old girl, your Dad’s in
trouble”.
This
is not what I expected to happen to me, I thought I was bullet proof. I had
relied on my doctor to keep me safe with regular blood tests, but he had not
been scheduling PSA tests for prostate cancer so he didn’t know. I would not
have known as I was not having any of the usual problems that would have
alerted me.
Further
checks needed to be done of course. CT scan and bone scans were done and a few
weeks later I met with Kim again. The news was both bad and good. The prostate cancer was bad, on the Gleeson
scale about 8.5 out of 10. That is just
into the “we can’t do anything category”. Yes, as he had said, advanced and
aggressive, but the good news was that the rest of me was clear, as far as he
could see anyway. So that’s it. Yes, I have cancer, but it is treatable, just,
and with a bit of luck.
He
immediately started me on a course of hormone therapy by sewer pipe size
injections.
It was
then that I let the cat out of the bag and told some of my closest friends that
I had cancer and was scheduled for radiation treatment. It is interesting that
a lot didn't want to know, and even the closest of my friends seemed more
interested in telling me about people they knew who had had prostate cancer,
even about some who had died of it. So rightly or not, I kept it to myself when
I could.
However
even though my specialist had told me I needed radiation treatment it still had
to be approved by the oncologist from Palmerston North and I had to pass the
“Am I worth saving test?’. During April, 2012, I saw the oncologist. He did some more tests including the one I
will never get used to, confirmed the treatment my urologist had recommended,
eight weeks of radiation treatment in Palmerston North. That is 39 days of six
bursts of radiation, the maximum our bodies can stand. It seemed to me that he
was even more concerned than my urologist, and agreed with him that it was
worth spending the money on me. I was told that on many occasions as time went
by. Needless to say I was pleased about that. I felt very humbled.
After
an interminable wait of about 6 months with my stress level rising by the day
the radiation treatment started.
And then
at the end of eight very long weeks of 234 bursts of radiation it was over and
I waited for a clean bill of health from the oncologist. More waiting. Early in the piece Kim Broom said, quote - “I want you to die of something else”. Me too, but not yet. Ok, I know that cancer
cannot be cured; they say it only goes into remission, and some damage caused
by the radiation is permanent. But I was doing everything I could do to help
myself, thanks to Alison Cowel, my nutritionist. I also enrolled with Steele Pilates,
a physiotherapy-based exercise system involving daily exercise to offset the
damage being done by the hormone treatment and the radiation. The diet I had
embarked on was a serious diet change. Not for weight loss, but to eat food
that strengthened my immune system and make my cells happy; or at least what
didn’t hurt them. Mostly vegetables. I still eat some meat but only game
venison. Sure, the cancer would always re-occur; my hope is that it would have
been put into remission long enough for it not to matter too much.
There is
no doubt that the Cancer experience has had a profound impact on my life. Many
go through this and just move on. One in ten doesn’t, and I am one of the ten.
Palmerston North was huge for me; I was so desperate to get there and stressed
out terribly while waiting, I was terrified that the cancer was still spreading
and growing. The stress affected me both physically and in my head. So when I
eventually got to Palmerston North, suddenly I was “there”. I was going to be
cured.
Right
from day one my life revolved around the hospital, the treatment, the whole
thing. My wife, Lyn, originally came with me to stay for a week but developed a
cold on the first day and I was very quick to send her home. I actually
couldn’t understand why others had “care givers”. This was my battle and I just
wanted to get on with it. After a couple of weeks I wasn’t even overly
concerned about coming home for the weekends, Palmerston North had become my
comfort zone. I was surrounded by people who understood. I gained a huge
strength from all the people I was involved with, and there were dozens. I
threw myself into my treatment and recovery. While others still had their beer
or whatever, I had I given up all alcohol, and watched my diet. I was a model
patient and did everything they told me. I went to lectures and soaked up every
bit of knowledge they gave me. And all the people there showed they cared.
How did I
get through this and come out the other side as well as I did? For a start I
had available to me every resource that is available in this country. To all
these people I will forever be grateful. All of them, especially the people in
the oncology department at the Palmerston North hospital and the amazing people
of the Ozanam House Trust who went well beyond their “jobs” and helped me
hugely through what for me was an awful time. And of course, my urologist, Kim
Broome.
And
importantly, I always had absolutely no doubt that I would be cured.
They said
the worst effects of the radiation therapy tail off over first next six months.
But I had none initially, mine all came later on, even years later. Tiredness was one mild issue, but I managed
that, just the hot flushes were terrible. I had radiation cystitis for years
and my bladder misbehaved badly. But I
kept reminding myself of the saying - “The
party may not be exactly as you planned, but that’s no reason to stop
dancing”. Somehow I had to get back
on the dance floor.
So I was
determined to carry on with my life the best I could. Sure, nothing would ever
be quite the same with the C thing hanging over my head, but like I said, no
reason to stop the party. Since then I have done a huge amount of flying, from
North Cape to Stewart Island, I have ridden a horse, I have done some
abseiling, I have spent an hour and a half flying a helicopter. On my eightieth
birthday I was hurled out of an aeroplane at 12,000 feet. (I had done some
jumps many years before).
Still
partying.
Overall,
I think I am a better person for having gone through this. I have used the term
"humbled" when talking of the people who have helped me. I do feel
humbled that so many people just wanted to get Trevor better. I am not an
important person, but they all thought I was worth saving. That means a lot to
me and I will carry my gratitude to them all to the end of my life, which will
be a long way in the future.
I
consider that I have beaten cancer. I am not a cancer sufferer, I am a
survivor, let there be no doubt about that.
