My name is James, I am now 21 and studying in the 3rd year of a Geology degree. I am a member of my college rowing club and work as a doorman for my university union. I maintain a reasonable level of fitness, though I am somewhat lazy, should be in gym now, but as you can see have found a more sedentary occupation for a few moments. I was treated for testicular cancer during the summer of 2005.

I had a vague feeling that something might not be quite right early in 2005. I had noticed some discomfort, but as I was busy what with late nights at work, lots of study and training for Head races gave it little thought. Then one night at work Austin, a man mountain of 6’3” and some 18 stone drunkenly thumped my leg, missing a connecting with my nads. As can be expected I took a pretty big breathe, the pain took a while to subside and set me thinking…

Next morning in the shower I checked myself and found what might be a lump, but as I couldn’t be sure and was training for the Eights Head (4 1/4 miles on the Thames) I avoided the doctor as I felt it might interfere with my rowing. This meant that I finally went to the doctor in March, towards the end of my Easter term and as I was preparing for the summers exams. The doctor ‘had a fumble’ and being unconvinced sent me off to Windsor for an ultrasound scan. So I duly cycled the 4 miles to Windsor, not wishing at this point to involve my mates. Here I saw the scans taken and got a good idea that something wasn’t right.

So I started going to the gym, for about 3 hours every day to take my mind of things, I was lucky to have a few good mates (Paul, Ben, Will, and Ben) who kept me company and pushed themselves at least as hard as I did. A week later I received word from my GP that I should go in to see him. At this appointment he told me that the chances were this might be an issue and that I should tell my parents. That made an interesting conversation as I called my father at work in Belize (Central America) to tell him I might have testicular cancer, was booked in to see a surgeon (Mr Cole) in a weeks time and so on. Of course the first thing my mother threatened was to return to UK to ‘look after’ me. What and cramp my style?! I was in no hurry to abandon long experienced independence.

Following my appointment with Mr Cole, my mothers eventual return (put of for nearly 3 weeks) another ultrascan and a CAT scan I was booked in for an orchidectomy. This took some getting my head around. I went into hospital having fasted overnight on 20th April. At the time I was most put out as I had planned a holiday in Guernsey with family. As can be imagined this was all rather uncomfortable, but I could help a certain morbid humour at being marked up for the operation, though I made damn sure they had the right (left) side! Following the operation I was pretty groggy but perked up when my housemates came to visit, I had imagined this to be the last thing I would want,. How wrong I was; had I been up to standing I’d have hugged them. Within a short while I was back at home with, exceptional painkillers and many clean dressings, being weighted on hand and foot. Well that may be wishful thinking but I didn’t do badly. Within a few short days I was up and hobbling, at first to the fridge then the TV . Finally to my 2nd year exams which started on the 26th April, and were accompanied by leisurely revision on the grass, I was helped along by any number of people, too numerous to mention here. Many will not know they helped as I didn’t fancy telling the world. Once these were dealt with I was finding much increased mobility and set about celebrating for the remainder of May. My 21st proved a big success with a raucous party and ‘dancing’ in our Union afterwards. I had great fun chatting up/dating 3 girls at once (I figured I’d earnt it!) and hiding from them the fact that I was not as quick on my feet as previously, but the exercise helped.

The ‘downside was continued checkups and blood tests whilst awaiting the results of the of the biopsy on the tumour removed. This was found to have been malignant and so I was introduced to my Oncology consultant (Dr Money-Kyrle) on 11th May. And the nurses at St Lukes Cancer Centre (Royal Surrey County Hospital, Guildford) on the Friday 13th May. I was told that I’d best have chemotherapy, something I’d dreaded, but something in the way Dr Money-Kyrle tried to soften the blow amused me. Making it more bearable. Of course with chemotherapy there is a small chance of permanent sterility, so I was advised to Sperm Bank. Not very dignified! Indeed I at the time had no car and no wish for my mother to accompany me so another mate Gav drove me back and forth, with no little banter to ease each journey (three samples were required). I nearly asked Sophia if she’d like to come with me and help! Not sure how that’d have been received and so am glad that sense prevailed. I passed my driving test on the 16th May.

On the 24th I started my chemotherapy (2 cycles of BEP) after respiratory tests. The chemo was fascinating. Even the names of the drugs are unpleasant, and I’m now not sure I’ll ever forget them Bleomycin Etopocide and CisPlatin. I would go in for 3 days for the 1st mix of drugs and again the following 2 weeks for a 40 min top up each Tuesday. Unfortunately I missed Ben’s birthday as a result of the chemo, they went to Brighton for the weekend. On leaving the hospital we went to Tesco and I drifted round it in a daze, wired to the ceiling and yet worried I’d walk into someone. An extremely strange feeling. Following the first 3 day spell I had a date the following day with Phillipa (stunning blonde), celebrate Harry’s 20th with him on the 28th and saw Sophia (stunning brunette) on the Sunday.

On the 31st, next Tuesday I had the 1st top up dose and my driving licence arrived at my grandmothers. I was elected to a place on the Athletics Union on 6th June. My 2nd cycle of chemotherapy was accompanied by hair loss and sickness. Being a sweltering week in mid June (14th – 16th) this was also the most unpleasant. It was the most informative as I was put on a ward with others whom were in a arguably worse state than myself. We however managed to keep each others spirits up petty well. By the end of this 3 weeks I had at last truly lost my sense of humour, indeed I so wanted to go home that I gave up my bed that the next chap could get on with his cycle. I spent a long hour and a half in the day room counting seconds as the chemicals dripped into my arm. On the 16th my cousin and goddaughter had stopped in to see me, Cecile I think couldn’t decide what was going on.

By now I was extremely glad that my mother had returned from Belize as I suspect that I’d have got rid of all my friends had I been forced to be around them at the time. I short I was obnoxious. I simply couldn’t find the energy to be pleasant and became easily annoyed at the smallest things. It was especially trying for her as while keeping me on the straight and narrow she also had to fill in my father, still in Belize, on all aspects.

It was at this stage that the most uncomfortable side effect of the chemo kicked in as I suffered a thrombus in my left arm, anticoagulants quickly righted this. Later confusion would see me put on Warfarin, not necessary as my thrombus was shallow not deep, and therefore less dangerous.

I completed my chemotherapy on 29th June. Went to Henley with Ben and Chloe on the 1st July and headed of for a months rest and recuperation on the 6th July. Since then I have spent three weeks in Wales looking at carboniferous sediments, one week in Tenerife on a field course in Geology and rowed in the 4s Head 2005, a repeat of the 4 ¼ miles previously described but this time in 4s not 8s. I am now seeing Tanya (stunning legs!).

James