It’s November, which also means it’s Movember – that time of the year when gents all over the world commit to growing luxurious and stylish upper lip ‘jackets’ (or ‘moustaches’) to raise awareness and funds for various men’s health issues.
We’re lucky enough this month to have Rob, one of our wonderful Online Community members, share his experience with prostate cancer, and how he’s approached and dealt with the emotional impact of the diagnosis. Unfortunately, there’s often a stigma when it comes to gents opening up about their emotions and mental wellbeing – Rob’s story’s a great example of how opening up helped him cope, and also brought him and his wife, Sue, closer together.
I do believe, now having been through chemotherapy for advanced prostate cancer, that the emotional side of the illness is perhaps one of the most important aspects to consider and be open about. Having had a diagnosis, which in itself was a total shock to me, initially you just feel numb. It takes over your entire life and those around you often do not know what to say to you after the hugs and tears, as they too are somewhat bewildered.
The person for me, who was my absolute rock, was my wife, Sue. Naturally she was very upset and worried as to what the future might hold, but through talking about the dreaded “C” word, we became incredibly close. We had, just before my diagnosis, celebrated 40 years of marriage and had a fantastic month-long holiday in Florida. We then returned home to high PSA readings in my blood test (259) and were sent to the Macmillan Renton Unit in Hereford, where we were told the news that my cancer was already at stage 4. Scans and biopsies confirmed that I was going to need a high dose of chemotherapy as my cancer was “aggressive” and had spread.
Throughout my treatment Sue, although stressed and anxious, remained focused on getting through it and was supportive throughout. Supportive is probably not the correct word, because she was much more than that to me. I think it was being able to tell her how I was feeling, physically, as the chemo wreaked havoc with my body, and what I was thinking on a day to day basis that gave me great comfort.
Also, the way we decided to learn everything about my condition was a help and it was the route we decided on. Rather than be lying in bed at 4am, wide awake, pondering the “what if`s”, we always asked the Oncologist a lot of questions (we normally wrote a list, before the appointment) which he answered, so we were well informed which gave us a basis to talk things through.
We always used to and have carried on, having a leisurely meal each Saturday night, catching up with the week`s events, or discussing my cancer, enabling us to know exactly how each other felt about it and how we were going to deal with my cancer, then and in the coming months. Sometimes, we would sit down to eat (not that I could taste much most of the time!) and not get up until 2 hours or so had elapsed. For me, this was invaluable, having someone who I could talk to and I think Sue felt the same. Speaking to family or friends, is, in most instances, just not the same because as well-meaning as they are, they simply did not know or, in some instances, understand what we, as a couple, were going through.
Our Online Community has groups dedicated to prostate cancer, testicular cancer – these groups are great for anyone affected by these cancers to talk with those going through, or having gone through a similar experience. Liza, a member of Macmillan's Information Development team, has also written a blog - Movember - More than moustaches. Take a look to learn more about men's health, as well as viewing the huge variety of 'tache styles on offer.
To find out more about Movember and how to get involved, see the official Movember website.
