Tom McKenna, Reading
In the summer of 2020, I noticed a change in my bowel habits, and quickly realised that I was on the toilet a lot more than normal. I found blood in my stools every time I went. I was referred for a routine colonoscopy, which I thought nothing of, but left that evening being diagnosed with cancer. My whole world fell apart. I was lost. I was completely broken, so were my wife and my family.
It also turned out the cancer had gone on a little jolly to my liver too. I was diagnosed with stage 4, or advanced, bowel cancer in my low anterior colon with liver metastases, and my outlook didn't look good. Unfortunately, I joined a very exclusive private members club that no one wants to join, but I was determined not to let it beat me.
It's now October 2022, and I've had three major surgeries (two liver resections, where 60% of my liver was removed twice, one laparoscopic bowel surgery to remove half my bowel), six months of chemotherapy and 12 rounds in total, with endless blood tests, countless MRI/CT/PET scans, a week in ICU following complications with my bowel surgery recovery.
The good news is, I've recently had two MRI scans and two CT scans on my liver, chest and my abdomen, with a colonoscopy in August and I’m delighted to report that they have found No Evidence of Disease, which is the first time in two years I can say that. Needless to say, I was overjoyed, but the scars from it all have not faded. I have been told that things are looking good for me, and I'm on an upwards curve, too. I'm now eight months cancer free.
Why am I telling you this? I am one of 2,600 every year under 50 who are diagnosed with bowel cancer, and I believe not enough of us are aware of the symptoms.
The last couple of years have been absolutely horrific, and I can honestly say I don’t think I would still be here if it wasn’t for my incredible wife, Hannah. We will all undoubtedly have all come into contact with someone with cancer, or indeed have someone in the family that has died of cancer, but if you’re anything like me and thought you were indestructible, until you have it or have someone close to you that has been through this terrible illness, you do not realise quite how disgraceful it really is.
There were times where I have literally had to drag myself out of bed and to just function ‘normally’, but the incredible strength, grace, and love Hannah showed me during these last two years in helping to save my life is nothing short of remarkable. To have held herself together and still went about life with a smile on her face even when I knew she was hurting inside, is something I will never, ever forget. We all need someone like her in our lives, and I’m indebted to her with the strength she has shown. If it’s possible, I love her even more because of it.
As a token of my appreciation to my incredible bowel surgeon, my liver surgeon, my oncologist, my oncology nurse and everyone at Spire hospital in Reading, plus to thank the family, friends, all my colleagues at work who have been there to support me, I cycled alongside my dad, from London to Brighton in support of Bowel Cancer UK on 11 September this year. Bowel Cancer UK is a fantastic charity, whom I hope we will be able to use the proceeds of my fundraising, for their research and education into trying to cure such a devastating and cruel disease.
A side note, by the way: Bowel Cancer UK's website was incredible therapy for me to educate me, to put my mind at ease, and to read all the various stories of other people going through this at the same time as me - I would welcome anyone to read this.
At the time of speaking, I have raised over £4,600, and my father has raised £1,500, so over £6,000 between us both! I'm humbled by such generosity from all that donated to us for our ride.
Whilst I'm not out of the woods yet; my surgeons and oncologist want to keep an eye on me for at least another three or four years yet, but I am certainly in a better place, and I take every day as it comes. In a funny way, since having cancer, every day is a good day, and I am thankful to still be here.
I would recommend anyone who has been affected by bowel cancer to give as much as you can to this fantastic charity, and certainly to take part in the ride from London to Brighton. It was tough, (especially Ditching Beacon), but well mapped out, fun, spirit lifting, but above all, one of the most emotional moments getting to the end, just knowing quite how far I have come.
Here's to London to Paris for Bowel Cancer UK 2023!
