Leigh Wilkinson, Kent

I was diagnosed with stage 2 bowel cancer in May 2020 at just 47 years old.

I’ve always liked my sleep, but I remember feeling extra tired in the months before my diagnosis. I put this down to my job at the time, which had a lot of early morning starts and a lot of driving. Some weeks were busier than others and I could always explain away the tiredness, however I found myself needing to pull over one morning to rest part way through my journey, which was something I’d never done before.

At around the same time, I experienced some pain in my tummy. The first time only lasted a few minutes and I didn’t think much of it afterwards. However, when it happened again a few months later, it was much more intense and lasted for about 10 minutes; I remember struggling to breathe at the time and couldn’t talk until the pain subsided. This was probably the first time I started to think that something more serious was going on. 

I had seen a Bowel Cancer UK poster campaign at work a few years prior, so was aware of the symptoms to look out for. This knowledge helped me start to join the dots about what was happening in my body, which also included some intermittent bleeding and changes to my bowel habits.

I headed over to the Bowel Cancer UK website and after reading more about it, decided to make the call to my GP. I had already prepared myself for the diagnosis as I knew it was a possibility, however I would have described myself as a fit and healthy 47-year-old, so held on to the fact that it was still more likely it would turn out to be nothing.

I telephoned my GP surgery on 27 April 2020 and things moved quite quickly from there. I saw her the following morning and had a colonoscopy two weeks later, following an initial telephone screening.

I was grateful to receive the diagnosis at the colonoscopy, rather than having to wait any longer. However, as we were in Covid, my husband, Neil, wasn’t allowed to come into the hospital with me. This meant I had to meet him afterwards in the car park and give him the news before we drove home, which I found particularly hard to do.

My main concern was about my daughter, Lucy, who was only 12 at the time, and I was worried about how the news and any treatment would impact her. I couldn’t even imagine not being there to look after her as she was growing up.

In the two weeks that followed I had some other tests, including a CT scan and MRI, before my appointment with the consultant who was able to tell me which stage the cancer was at and what my treatment plan would be. Keeping myself occupied during this time was necessary but so very hard. I decided to keep working, which enabled me to have something else to focus on and keep some semblance of normality.

Other than Neil and my immediate line manager, I had decided not to tell anyone else until we knew the full picture. This was probably one of the best decisions I made, as it gave me some breathing space and enabled me to process everything before I had to describe it to others.

My treatment consisted of an operation to remove the tumour and some of my bowel. I was fortunate enough that the operation was a success with clear margins, meaning I didn’t need any further treatment, such as chemotherapy or radiotherapy.

I felt very vulnerable after the operation and struggled with needing to take things easy and ask for help with daily activities. I took four months off work to recover and spent this time building up my physical and mental strength. I slept a lot, cried a lot and spent time where I could (Covid measures permitting) with friends and family.

I’m not sure I’ll ever lose the fear of cancer returning, but I am pleased to say I was officially ‘signed off’ in June 2025. My chances of being diagnosed with bowel cancer now are no greater than anyone else — a line I replay in my head often, especially on those days when the memories of it all come flooding back.

Most of the time, I look back and feel very proud of how far I’ve come. Unless I tell someone what I’ve been through, they would never know and my life is very full with work, family and friends. However, I also have moments when I look back and feel just the way I did when I received the diagnosis — scared and lost. Luckily, these moments don’t last long and I’ve developed a resilience to try and enjoy the moment I’m in and appreciate what I have today.

I find it hard to put into words how grateful I am to my GP for taking the time to listen to me and for acting so swiftly in what were very unusual circumstances, during Covid. Without her prompt action, my story may have taken a different path, which is hard to comprehend.

The colorectal team at the hospital were amazing throughout the whole process and I can’t fault the care I received. I had a strong sense of trust in my consultant and the colorectal team showed genuine care and compassion to help me get better as quickly as possible.

I received counselling as part of my recovery which helped me process what had happened and keep it in context. There is a history of cancer on both my maternal and paternal sides of the family, so I also had my histology mapped. This identified a moderately increased risk of breast cancer (unrelated to bowel cancer), so my GP was able to start my mammogram screening early. All of this has supported my recovery and allows me to focus on the here and now, rather than worrying too much about the future.

My biggest concern was for my daughter and after talking to her school, they arranged regular catch-ups for her with a member of the pastoral care team. Both of us valued this hugely, as I knew it would impact her and I wanted her to have a safe space to talk about it too. The practical part of me wanted to know more about how and why I’d developed the disease and understand what I might be able to do to stop my daughter from going through it. Reading about the ‘Never Too Young’ campaign gave me a lot of hope at the time.

Friends and family showed up in ways I didn’t expect them to; while some relationships got stronger, the odd one fizzled out. One friend would send me photos of flowers very randomly, just to brighten my day, while another would ask me to join her on a weekly dog walk. I am lucky enough to have some amazing friends I could talk to about the heavy stuff but I equally needed to spend time with people just doing normal stuff.

The emotional and vulnerable part of me took great solace from reading the stories of other people on the Bowel Cancer UK website and seeing my experiences being expressed in words that they had written. As wonderful as my friends and family are, they haven’t been through it, and it didn’t always feel right for me to share my questions, concerns and fears with them. These stories made me feel less alone and hopeful that life could return to normal again.

Be aware of what’s going on in your body and talk to your GP if you notice any changes; it is worth it for the peace of mind it brings. If the worst should happen and you receive bad news, catching it at the earliest possible opportunity will give you the best chance of recovery.

 

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