Cancer. I have cancer. I have a Cancer.
Cancer is such an evocative, nee frightening word. It generates dreadful thoughts across the board.
This is my account of being diagnosed and my own ‘journey’ through treatment, and as I write this, hopefully successful recovery.
It started with runny Poo – slight diarrhoea - mid January 2025. I had taken the NHS Stool bowel test twice by this time and nothing had come up as a concern. I left things a few days, not really sure if there was much blood, until I farted a blood capsule. At that point going to the doctor was non-negotiable. The question was how and when. I work full time, am recently married and did not wish to worry my wife.
I took a trip to my surgery, a 5-minute walk away, on a Friday evening and spoke with the receptionist. I stuttered and almost cried as I spoke the words – I have blood in my Poo. It was not as easy as I thought it would be.
She looked at me with a vague sympathy and stated I would need to come in on Monday 8am morning to make an appointment. I did not wish to. All I wanted was a testing kit.
I thanked her and walked off to an empty home and sat down with a cup of tea to compose myself. My wife works nights so was already at work waiting for her shift to begin.
I opened my laptop and sent my manager an e-mail. I am experiencing signs of a Cancer, I wrote. I may need to go to the surgery to book an appointment but would need to be Tuesday as I knew we had work to complete on the Monday. My health should have come first, but I felt, and still feel, fine.
I searched for Bowel testing kits to see how to order one from the NHS. This did not appear to be possible, though this would seem a sensible option as appointments are hard to book. I found a kit I could order, for not much more than £12. It seemed perfect. I would not need to go to the doctors and use their time I could self-test much like Covid.
It came all wrapped in cardboard, to paraphrase The Police track Be My Girl, and was easy and simple to use. No fuss or bother, I just needed an egg carton. Fortunately, this is something we buy weekly, so in a couple of days we had one I could squat over in the bath.
Not a particularly pretty sight, but highly effective. Having collected my sample, which was good and solid, I took a small amount into the tube and shook up to mix with the solution inside before trying to deposit a couple of drops onto the gauge. The whole process was exactly the same as a Covid test, and within 5 mins a clear double line was visible, this despite not being able to get just a couple of drops. I opened one end of the tube, air rushed in and the gauge was flooded.
I had pre warned my wife, as she had seen the package arrive, so when she came home the following morning, we sat down over her coffee, and I held her hand. I began to well up inside slightly then felt a disconnect between what was being said and myself.
I have done a bowel test, and it has come up positive. Positive for what, she asked in broken English.
I have blood in my Poo. This may be a Cancer. No, no she replied. There will be a mistake. You need to go to the doctor. That is what I shall do, and so the conversation continued. I was tentatively doing my best to let her know I may be ill, but at the same time trying to reassure her everything would be fine. She was not accepting that anything was wrong.
A normal course of action, I am sure, across the world in such situations. Everyone is different and handles these scenarios differently. I found the best to be open and upfront, albeit carefully initially.
I sent my manager a message and booked the Monday off work.
My discharges had been erratic. Sometimes solid, mostly slightly runny or loose, occasionally offering up a hint of blood with mucus. I did fart another blood capsule which had me worried. I chose not to mention this to my wife. She went off to bed to sleep as I went off shopping in a local market town.
I was a little concerned about the need to rush to a toilet, but in the end I was okay. This is something I had experienced at work, so was wary, but felt I needed to stay positive believing this would pass from my brain to my bowels and overcome anything lurking there which should not.
