Cancer T-Shirts (or What I learned from Cancer!)

A little over a year ago, my husband, Ron, was diagnosed with prostate cancer. It's made for a very difficult time for us, and we're just emerging, slightly shellshocked, from a month of daily radiotherapy treatments.

It's made it difficult for me to do much writing – I haven't had the mental capacity or time much of the year, which is why I haven't had much coming out. I'm sure that sooner or later it will influence something I write, and I wanted to share what we've learned in the process. I will of course add that we are not medical professionals, and we're not offering advice, simply sharing our experience.

It's a long journey with many stops

Over the eighteen months, we've had around 55 medical appointments, which has included surgery and tests, at three different hospitals, and multiple departments. This was before the daily Radiotherapy treatments. Our NHS is struggling, and departments are not adequately joined up – co-ordinating all of the appointments and information was time consuming. I did discover though that the Macmillan nurses  are amazing, and can really help navigate the system, and join the dots. All of the NHS people we saw were really good, compassionate and helpful, which makes a huge difference.

It started with niggling problems, and a doctor's visit, before a referral to the specialist department (in this case, Urology) They arranged for blood tests and a CT scan, then a biopsy. When we were invited to an appointment with the consultant the next day, we knew it wasn't good news. The consultant was however, surprisingly chipper about the prospects – I had visions of being told how long Ron had left, but it wasn't like that. He started hormone therapy immediately, which brought on hot flushes. This amused me intensely (hey when you're dealing with cancer, you need any laughs you can get!) The hot flushes were met with a similar level of sympathy to what I'd received, and Ron replied 'I didn't know it was so bad!" A cooling pad and some of the tips I'd picked up helped him cope with this though. (T-shirting; layers; air coolers are all really useful.) The hormone treatment will continue for the next two years to ensure the cancer is killed.

We were referred to Oncology, who arranged a CT scan with contrast to establish whether the cancer had spread (it had, but not far) and then to plan treatment, and be put on the waiting list. Ron also needed surgery to reduce the size of his prostate prior to radiotherapy (the treatment enlarges the prostate, exacerbating any symptoms, so was necessary before starting Radiotherapy.) It took nearly a year to get to the radiotherapy. Initially they do a planning scan to identify the area, and then tattoo three tiny dots to mark the spot. The treatment itself is daily (aside from weekends) for around 10 minutes. But, we had to travel to Brighton, and there were roadworks on the A27, which caused absolute chaos, and meant we had to allow a lot of extra time for travel. It was exhausting, and time consuming. We discovered new routes in and out of Brighton, trying to avoid the chaos. We've taken some time to recover and are starting to get back into a new routine. There will be further tests and monitoring, but all being well, he should be fine.

So what have we learned?

• There are many different types of cancer, and with different prognoses. Prostate cancer is one of the more treatable ones. Some cancers spread quickly, and are more aggressive, others are slow growing. Ron's was of the aggressive persuasion, but didn't spread far. We have friends who are at different stages of the cancer journey, and their experiences have been different, and far more alarming. The treatment plan will depend entirely on the type and location of the cancer.
• Sometimes there are no right words – as a writer this is tough to admit. We appreciated the friends who offered practical help, prayers and words of support in our journey. Platitudes are often not enough, and unless you've been there, it is hard to know the right thing to say. But, you can be there, and there are so many practical ways to help and show your support – whether that is a meal; a ride to an appointment, company or simply a listening ear.
• Find the light in the darkness – when things are tough, it is so important to hang on to whatever light you can find. For us, that was in the form of two kittens who moved in. Boots and Teddy were born at our neighbour's, and their antics, mischief and naughtiness have really helped us laugh and find something fun. They are sweet, cuddly, and amuse us endlessly.
• Humour helps – finding something to make you laugh does lift the spirits. Over the years, I've bought Ron a series of T-shirts with funny captions, usually linked to things he's done or said. We planned to have a different one for each day, which you can see in the photos on this page. They amused us, and the staff at the treatment centre, and helped bring some light into the darkness. We posted the pics on Facebook, and a schoolfriend kindly sent Ron a batch of shirts to add to his collection. It was such a lovely, kind gesture, and meant so much to both of us.
• Don't worry about what you don't know, and deal only with what you do know. The minute the possibility of cancer is mentioned, most of us think it's terminal, and it's really easy to imagine the worst-case scenario. The biopsy could well turn out to show the lump is benign, but even if it is cancer, worrying about what hasn't happened (and may never happen) makes you feel so much worse, and makes it harder to cope with the real scenario.
• It is what it is – anger and fear and frustration are perfectly normal reactions, but in the end, they don't help, and they don't change the circumstances. It's easy to ask Why Me? But there are no answers. There comes a time where you have to move on from these bullies and face what is real, and work your way through it. Winston Churchill famously said 'When you're going through hell, you have to keep going.' The only way out is through, and sometimes that means an act of will, minute by minute, hour by hour, and day by day.
• Be kind to yourself. Take time out when you need it. The world won't end if you don't make your bed for a day, or have a long lie in when you're exhausted. If there are things you can do (or not do) to make your life easier, then take advantage of these. We're currently saving for a spa day to help us (BTW, you can use the links on this site to contribute, if you feel that way inclined!)
• Ask for help when you need it – people will surprise you, if you let them. It is a relief to have people you can call on when you need them. Of course, some people are more helpful in these circumstances than others, so choose those who you know will be helpful, and accept their offers to help you. Feel free to tell people what you want, and what you don't want, so they know how best to help. Macmillan and their team are really wonderful at helping navigate the whole process, and will provide you with a trained person to speak to, when you need it.

Ron's cancer journey was tough, but doesn't begin to compare with the nightmare others face with far more serious forms of cancer. Everyone is different, and each of us have our own ways of working through really tough times. For those of us providing support, we can be there and offer help in ways that the patient needs. I hope this blog helps those whose lives are blighted by cancer.

For any writer, every life experience is something you can use. We've learned a lot in this journey. When I've had time to recover, I'm looking forward to writing again

If you want to buy any of the shirts, most are available on Amazon