I am one of the very few people on earth who can say with 100% certainty that taking up extreme marathon swimming definitely saved their life.
So, as you might be aware, on 25th/26th August 2012, I became the 44th person in history to swim Loch Lomond in a pair of budgie-smugglers as part of the BLDSA organised swim. I felt I flew down the Loch in a respectable time of under 15 hours (for a non-swimmer) and finished with no shoulder pain or any pain anywhere other than inflamed eyes due to a goggle irritation.
Dr. Lianne De Maar at the Nomura (office) health centre had identified the beginnings of a one month nightmare. She had identified a mass in my left flank (abdomen).
'Well, I want you to take Fibregel for a week and come and see me in a week's time - I'll send you a planner'.
To cut a very long story short, I took the Fibregel for a week and the mass hadn't gone away when the appointment took place on 11th October. She then immediately referred me to a colorectal cancer specialist called Mark George on Friday 12th October at the London Bridge Hospital much to my worry and disgust. She had quite a worried look on her beautifully sculpted face.
'There is a soft tissue mass in the retroperitoneum which involves the left psoas muscle and extends onto the iliacus muscle. The mass extends superiorly up to the lower pole of the kidney but does not arise from it. The maximum diameter in the transverse plane measures 11cm x10cm. The mass measures a craniocaudal diameter of 11cm.
The world had gone mad. I was insistent to Dr George that I felt fine and had no symptoms relating to this stupid mass and was boasting about my new ab-workouts. I said he could feel my tummy again and that I'd been to the bog loads. I was kidding myself.... He immediately pointed out the rather terrifying news that this was an area of expertise way beyond him - he was a seasoned expert he had never seen a tumour like this before. Oh my giddy aunt I thought. Only 3 oncology surgeons in the country are evidently known to operate in the 'retroperitoneum' & might perhaps be able to help me now.....He suggested someone who he would want to see faced with my utterly dire predicament. He had already referred me to Dr Meirion Thomas at the Royal Marsden as his first 9.15am patient on the following Monday the 22nd October. I was too scared to google 'Sarcoma' for fear of dragging up unwanted grief. I knew that would serve no constructive purpose whatsoever.
So that's that then.....All that was left for me to do was to go home tell my wife, kids, parents and brother that I had a tumour and I was pretty much buggered with a few months to live if that. 38 years on the earth packed with fun and laughter & never wasted one second. I had taken ALL my chances..EVERY SODDING LAST ONE OF THEM. I didn't cry when I told them all in person face to face (they all deserved more respect than the findings over a phone call as I drove around to see everyone individually that Friday evening (30 min visits to my parents and my brother ). I never lost it once there OR at work (it took everything I had to hold it together everywhere I went). I felt proud of everything I had done in my life and if I had months to live then so be it.... If I could man up to Loch Lomond, then I could man up to this.
He said that if the scan was right and it was emanating from the Psoas muscle then the mass would likely involve damage to the femoral nerve upon removal. The femoral nerve, he said, was the most important nerve in the body as it governs ones stability (quad function). He said that I would almost CERTAINLY lose the quad function in my left leg as a result of ensuring complete removal of this ball the size of a grapefruit or a small child's plastic ball. For me, though, that felt like a small price to pay. After the despair of Friday and a thoroughly desperate weekend (even a Sunday emergency visit to the Vicarage for prayers with the vicar!) there might be a decent chance they could get this crazy thing out. I still didn't know if I had cancer or not.
Fast Forward again. This is hard to believe I know but Boy Sheridan had a two hour operation (they were relieved that the rascal tumour came out easily and they didn't have to damage the bowel or left kidney and therefore didn't have to induce me into a 24 hour coma). Oh the joy of small mercies... One night in Intensive care (picture above) complete with dramatic drop in blood pressure at one stage to panic everyone on a proper level (the effects of a massive hit of morphine on top of an epidural like a proper OD from a rockstar took my blood pressure down to 28 at one stage!).... 6 nights in a private room later, I was tearing around on crutches playing tricks on nurses Ana, Danielle et al and looking forward to heading home and saying good riddance to morphine on tap (which was making me irrational & highly paranoid). Picture of me in my own private room on the Fulham Road for 6 nights...the joys of private health insurance! (there wasn't a machine I wasn't connected to)!
Due to the removal of the mass, they had to cut the femoral nerve. I have lost all of my quad function in my left leg and will need a knee brace & stick/crutches for the foreseeable future/life. I had left knee acl reconstruction in Oct 2007 so am familiar with all the moves on the crutches....I always was a limping gimp. Just more so now.
It's quite hard to stomach entering hospital reasonably able-bodied and leaving with a life-lasting disability. But if that is the price, then it is very much worth taking and getting on with.
At this stage, I have a sore tummy due to major abdominal surgery (the greatest scar in history from chest to pelvis (100 stitches?)) and with any luck that will subside in 2-3 weeks. I can barely walk 3 laps round our 1 acre garden at the moment without searing abdominal pain but I'm sure that will calm down. Quite a difference from a man who swam 21.6 miles! The main benefit is being put on tramadol which is a terrific opiate and great for a permanently elevated mood!!
This won't (with any luck) change my sport and love for open water swimming as I am often able to recite the story of my friend Rosalinda Hardimann who swam the channel as a polio sufferer having never been free from her wheelchair. She has long been an inspiration for me and will continue to be so. In my opinion, people like her are the true stars of this world, not politicians or celebrities.
Whatever you do, don't bloody feel sorry for me. Don't get upset as I really don't want any pity. I just want to make people aware to go for their regular health checks. Maybe that's why this has happened to me - I need to make more people realise.....I feel lucky that I have a life to rebuild given it wasn't long ago I thought I had a 12cm inoperable tumour.
I feel completely honoured to have experienced this and hope that I can be a benchmark for other physically-constrained athletes to realise that they can still float! I am very happy that over the last 2 years that I've lost 2 stone through open water swimming and when turning up for the pre-operation checks, it reminds you how important it is to stay fit and healthy. My daughters now really understand why I encourage them to do something physical - whether it be gymnastics or swim club.
I experienced an amazing experience through all of this nightmare. On the Tuesday of my hospital visit, I awoke at 1am feeling very positive and felt inspired. I knew if I could get back swimming in some way, I could create greatness that might motivate others. That would give me a huge purpose and drive.
This was a really terrific way for my adorable wife to spend her half term away from school in her first term as a newly-qualified teacher. What one has to sign up for in a marriage!
I think I need to have a chat with the BLDSA president Double L and race organiser Janet Wilson to try and have my time adjusted for Loch Lomond as I was towing along a 2kg, 12cm mass (bag of sugar). That should take at least 5 hours off the time and be close to a new world record!!
I am exploring whether I can represent the country as a Paralympian and will continue to do any ambassadorial work I can do for my mates at the Rainbow Trust and will immerse myself with renewed vigour into the BLDSA - looking forward to next year's calender - the 2swim4 life will almost certainly have a disabled entry!
The surgeon reckons I can be back in the pool in 3 weeks.
Thanks for sharing the story Mark, I hope your road to recovery continues smoothly and I look forward to seeing you at a lake or a bit of sea somewhere next year, Ollie.
Thanks Ana for helping to nurse me back to health. Still laugh at escaping from my room at 4am turning up at the nurses desk to freak you out when you thought I wasn't able to walk! You all do a heroic job!