Coping with Cancer - WTF?!

It all began with a stomach ache. It was a Thursday morning and I'd woken up early to go for a run. Everything was normal – coffee was brewing, bagels were in the toaster and the sun was rising over the Surrey hills. There was a slight pain in my stomach but I was sure that was nothing to worry about. I put on my trainers and didn't give it a second thought. Caffeine and running would solve everything.

Forty-eight hours later and I was in the intensive care unit of the Royal Surrey County Hospital. I'd had major surgery to rectify a perforation in my bowl and was trying to get comfortable in my hospital bed. There were twenty-nine stitches in my stomach, a tube coming out of abdomen and an epidural catheter in my spine.

A group of doctors came to talk me through the results of the operation. They told me that they had found something in my bowel that had caused it to perforate. It was a cancerous tumor.

There was no explanation as to how this could have happened. Ninety percent of bowel cancer cases occurred in people aged sixty and over. I'd had no symptoms. I was a fit athlete. I ate healthily, hardly drank alcohol, didn't smoke and hadn't been ill for years. Three months ago I'd run the London Marathon in just over two and a half hours.

WTF?! How could this be possible? How can I begin to deal with something as unexpected and as awful as ...cancer? Even saying the words didn't seem right - 'I'm Ben and I have cancer. I'm Ben and I have bowel cancer.' They didn't go together. This wasn't who I was.

For a week I had no idea how serious the cancer diagnosis was. A biopsy had to be carried out and my organs needed scanning to see whether the cancer had spread. I was unsure whether I was going be completely fine or be given six months to live.

I thought about my life. I'd cycled across Africa, become a top-level marathon runner, published writing and met many brilliant and inspirational people. I'd had some wonderful relationships and experienced some of the most beautiful feelings the world has to offer. I'd never limited the possibilities of what I could achieve. All in all, I felt that up to now I'd done a pretty good job. Maybe this wasn’t the worst time to leave.

And yet, I still desperately did not want to die. I wasn’t scared, but I wasn’t ready to accept that it was all over. I liked living too much and wanted to keep going for as long as I could.

At the end of the week I was told that although the tumor was malignant (i.e. proper, nasty cancer), it had not spread to any of my other major organs. There were still infected cells in my blood, but these could be removed with a programme of chemotherapy. I wouldn’t die and the likelihood was that I would make a full recovery.

The relief was incalculable. The world was still mine to explore and experience. I still had a life to live, albeit one that would be different to the one I had before.

It is now two weeks since these results. I'm about to commence a six month course of chemotherapy. I know its not going to be easy and I know that at some points I'm going wish I was dying, but it will be an adventure all the same and one that I feel equipped to undertake. I'd like to think that I'll be a stronger person for embarking on it.

We only fear what we don’t understand, and cancer is no different. The more I understand about my condition, the more I'm able to accept that this is part of my life.

I'm Ben and I have cancer.

I'm Ben and I'm being treated for cancer.

I'm Ben and I'm receiving chemotherapy for bowel cancer.

I'm Ben – runner, writer and occasional adventurer. About to undergo chemotherapy for bowel cancer. Still up for a bike ride at the weekend.

(Next time - Chemo, Catheters and Cool Scars)