Coping with Cancer - Awards

Hello from Chemo Ward B. Its been almost six months since the first hit of chemo and I’m still here, waiting for another hit of hard drugs. There’s still another two sessions to go, but somehow it seems like the finish is in now in sight. Just another five weeks.

As we approach the end of the treatment, I feel now is a good time for some reflection. Six months is a long time, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the help of some very special. So, without further ado, I’d like to announce the winners of the annual awards for Totally Unbelievable Magnanimous Occurrences (or TUMORS for short).

Training session of the year:

Bill Wild, for his legendary hill session in the Chantries woods.

In the words of my cancer nurse, ‘that run might have saved your life.’

Best diet advice

Angela Bates, my specialist cancer nurse. ‘For the next two weeks, no green vegetables, no wholemeal food. Focus on quick energy – ice cream and cake.’

Best hospital visitor

Laura Sands. An I-Pad, a bag of sweets and a packet of wet wipes. The perfect hospital bed combination.

Surgeon of the year

Dr Doom. He may have had the people skills of Cave Troll, but considering he had no idea what was inside me, and wasn’t even a specialist bowel surgeon, he did an incredible job.

Worst fashion statement

My post-surgery combo of a hospital gown, shamelessly open at the back, and a pair of black leather gloves.

Best drug

Domperidone – the ultimate anti-nausea pill. If anyone needs a hangover cure, I have stockpiled this at home.

Worst drug

A competitive category. Oxylaplatin made a breath of wind feel like liquid nitrogen, Morphine spun me on a very nauseous merry-go-round and Filgastrim made me feel like an angry hamster was stuck in my spinal cord; however, the winner has to be Trammadol. I was give this when my pain killer wore off after the bowel surgery, and while it served no painkilling function whatsoever, it did cause me to throw up repeatedly for the rest of the night – twelve hours after bowel surgery. Owch!

Good Samaritan award for helping the needy

Tanya Boardman, who helpfully sent me daily email of ‘pornography’ during my sperm donation sessions. I’ll never look at Miss Marple the same way again.

Best carrots

Chris Nugent’s mum. They may have looked like amputated sexual organs covered in mud, but they tasted delicious.

Worst doctor

My GP. I went to see him six months before my diagnosis. He gave me a surly look and said – ‘Why are you here? If you don’t have any clear symptoms, I won’t give you a check-up. It’s a waste of time.’

Best film

Watching 50/50 was honestly like looking in a mirror.

Best Positive Vibes

Special mention to Julie Tidy and Nicky Hack, but the award goes jointly to Becky Branston and Hannah Norsworthy, for providing empathy and cheer from near and far .

Best Unlikely Gift from a Family Member

Another competitive category. Could it be Tom Evans for the ukulele? Or Eddy Evans for the creative design course? They were both impressively bonkers (and good presents!). But the winner has to be Lucy Evans, for the holiday to Paris. Life’s all about experiences!

Most traumatic moment

The first post-surgery visit to the toilet.

Most sympathetic and emotive scientist

Sophie Morgan, who will hate me saying this.

Best nurse

Honorable mentions to Angela Bates and Nurse Twigger, but the award has to go to Nurse Lovely (actual name), in Chemo Ward B.

Worst Superhero

Captain Chemo (my new running nickname, given to me by some wag at Parkrun). Outfit – a thick, knitted cape. Special power – sleep. Weaknesses – cold, running

Most diligent home carer

Angus, my cat. Endless company and no sympathy.

Best nut

Salted cashews from Nisa. Much cheaper than the supermarket and surprisingly tasty.

Best Motto

‘Fatter, not fitter.’ Not great for life, but ideal for Chemotherapy.

The end of a long, hard journey is always an exhausting process and sometimes you need extra help to make it to the finish. My adventure cycling buddy Nate Freeman and I used to sing pop songs or play ‘Shag, Marry or Kill;’ when I was stuck hallway up a alpine pass, collapsing from auction, a woman who couldn’t speak English bought me an ice cream; every London Marathon I feel like I can’t run any further until I hear the crowds cheering on the Embankment. Endurance isn’t about being tough or triumphing over adversity, its about somehow staying calm and happy despite all that is happening to the contrary. Mental and physical tenacity can get you a long way, but sometimes there is nothing better than other people (or cats) to help you through the hardest moments.

If the chemo does its job, I’ll owe you each a large serving of wine and cheese. I promise not to buy it from Nisa.

Have a great weekend.

Ben