Stephen’s Battle: A Story of Resilience
A teste-monial from the U.K.
“I’m sorry, but it seems like you have some form of Germ Cell Cancer”
Stephen looked blankly at the rather robotic sounding doctor sitting across the table from him; aware of the enormity of the words that had just been spoken, but too exhausted to fully understand what had just been said.
His wife Emma clasped his hand in hers, “It’s going to be ok, you know…. we’ll beat this,” she said through tear filled eyes.
It seems strange that hearing those words give them a renewed sense of fight and of hope, but Stephen and Emma now had the answers that they needed. The silent, invisible terror that had caused so much pain and anguish during the previous couple of months now had a name, and the fight against this horrendous, unforgiving disease could start.
It was day 0….the beginning of the rest of Stephen’s life.
The symptoms began in July 2022, when Stephen visited the doctor with pain and discomfort in the left-hand side of his abdomen. It was initially brushed off as side effects of his ulcerative colitis, the inflammatory bowel disease making an appearance after 3 years of dormancy. But as the weeks passed, the pain steadily got worse, and Stephen pushed his doctor for a scan, knowing that something wasn’t quite right.
The ultrasound detailed a 10cm mass in the left-hand side of his abdomen; by the time Stephen was booked in for a CT scan some 4 weeks later, the mass had grown to 15cm and was causing the most severe mental and physical trauma Stephen had ever been through. He was completely house bound, unable to move, to sleep and to care for himself due to the excruciating pain down his left-hand side, the mass pressing and crushing nerves and muscles. Emma became his full-time caregiver, enduring days filled with his agonizing screams and nights spent watching the clock through sleep-filled eyes.
It was, therefore, a sort of relief when following more scans, blood tests and biopsies that the cause of this trauma was revealed as testicular cancer. Stephen knew that treatment could begin straight away, taking away the pain and suffering that had enveloped his life for the previous 2 months. Even though the prognosis was poor - with Stephen diagnosed at Stage 3C - the treatment options were plentiful and he now had been given a fighting chance of survival.
12 weeks of BEP chemotherapy followed, with long stays in hospital dotted with intermittent rest periods at home. Stephen’s body handled the chemotherapy well, the cocktail of drugs causing extreme exhaustion and neuropathy, but he wasn’t sick, and he had some quality of life back… he could eat again, he could sleep again… he could walk again…. the mass in his left-hand side was getting less noticeable by the day. His spirits grew day-by-day, the boredom of long days in the hospital bed cured by planning bucket list holidays for when he recovered, the immense hunger treated with plenty of greasy fast-food takeaways and chocolate!
The chemotherapy had obviously done its job, and Stephen was reassured by the fact that his AFP marker had decreased from 32,000 at time of diagnosis to just hundreds at the conclusion of the 12 weeks of treatment. The belief started to build; Stephen WAS fighting back.
The orchiectomy of the left testicle took place in March 2023, with the plan of the retroperitoneal lymph node dissection (RPLND) to take place 6 months later in September. Stephen recovered well enough from the chemotherapy to start working and traveling the world again, his biggest passion that had been taken away during this battle against cancer. Appointments and blood tests dotted the next few months, and a provisional date was set for the RPLND before a phone call in June 2023 changed everything.
Stephen was in the South American country of Peru when his phone flashed up with the number of his consultant.
“Your tumour markers are increasing; we need to see you in clinic urgently.”
Stephen’s whole world came crashing down in the matter of a few seconds… He literally went from being as high as the Peruvian Andes to as low as the Pacific Ocean that bordered this incredible country in the space of one phone call.
Further blood tests confirmed that the HCG tumor marker was increasing, and a CT scan showed a thickening in the wall of the now 6cm mass (which he now knew was a lymph node) in his abdomen.
The cancer was back.
Within weeks, Stephen was back in the hospital and undergoing 12 weeks of TIP chemotherapy. The physical challenge of this second line of treatment was brutal… the positivity of the previous few months flattened by the unfaltering side effects, the rapid hair loss, the pure exhaustion, the nausea, and the realization that he had already been through this once…. Why did he have to go through it again?
This period was also mentally challenging, knowing that if this line of chemotherapy didn’t work, the treatment options were slowly running out. Lonely nights in the hospital were spent listening to podcasts and talking to other cancer sufferers, learning their stories and hearing of their mental and physical battles. Stephen in a way felt lucky, he had been given a chance of a positive outcome where many of his fellow patients unfortunately had not.
The time in the hospital was greater during this these 12 weeks, with less rest periods in the comfort of his own home. This was partly due to the higher doses of chemotherapy drugs, but also down to the bi-weekly stem cell harvests that Stephen had to endure, preparation for any potential high dose chemotherapy in case this line of treatment was unsuccessful.
It was week 6 of the TIP chemotherapy that he learned that his tumour markers were now at normal levels for the first time in 12 months. He cried and hugged his family who were at his bedside trying to keep his spirits up despite the fatigue, the brain fog and the extreme nausea.
By the time the course of TIP chemotherapy finished, Stephen was mentally and physically broken and felt like he had nothing left to give. He had tried his best and fought his hardest… if this treatment didn’t work, then he could give no more. The battle was over, the cancer had won.
The next 5 months were filled with anxiety, stress and worry, knowing that the RPLND was the hole, but every blood test was a patch of rough or a sand trap. He was told by doctors that if the cancer came back now, it would most likely be incurable; a thought that punctuated every minute of every day. The bloodwork did, however, remain stable, and the RPLND was planned in for the 6th of March.
This day will always be etched in Stephen’s memory, despite him not actually being able to remember much of the day itself! He woke up in intensive after being under general anesthetic for 11 hours, groggy, nauseous and complete with stoma bag. It turned out the operation hadn’t gone as smoothly as intended…
As Stephen recovered in hospital, the story of his RPLND was shared by his surgeons and consultants. The operation had caused quite extensive collateral damage to his bowel and ureter, meaning for the foreseeable future he had to have a stoma and be fitted with a ureteric stent. Despite this, the words the cheerful Scottish surgeon spoke next will stay with him for the rest of his life…
“In terms of removing the cancer, the operation was a complete success, you are now cancer free.”
A wave of warmth spread through Stephen’s body, and he wasn’t sure whether this was down to pure relief, or the intravenous oxycodone that was currently pumping through his veins.
The next 6 months of rehabilitation were a challenge. Stephen mentally felt ready to fly, but his body wasn’t even ready to walk. The long scar down his abdomen taking time to heal, the collateral damage to his internal organs meaning further spells in the hospital. By this time, Stephen was frustrated, he wanted to travel, to play sports, to spend time enjoying his second chance at life with his wife. But he knew he had to be patient, better times were around the corner; he had to listen to his body and rest.
As he sits writing this, he is nearly 12 months on from the RPLND operation, and his life is back to some sort of “normality” (if anything can be considered normal following a battle against cancer). He has used the last 6 months to live life to the full, travelling to the Far East, Europe and The USA, writing about his experiences of his post cancer life on his social media. He has continued to play golf on a regular basis, his body now starting to cope better with 18 holes of hitting the ball from tee to rough, and rough to sand trap. He is also back to work, the 32 hours a week giving him a purpose, but also allowing his mind and body to rest in his spare time following the trauma of the last 2 years.
Stephen has been supported in his battle against cancer by his friends and family, but particularly his wife Emma, who has been his immense pillar of support through his journey. She has kept strong when he needed her the most, sat by his side during hours upon hours of chemotherapy, making him laugh when he was In pain, making him cry when she realised she may lose her soul mate at just 31.
Stephen looks back at his fight with immense pride, and now can truly reflect his journey. His body has coped phenomenally well with the brutality of the chemotherapy, the operations and the rigours of battling cancer. He has learnt an immense amount during the last 2 years, and can honestly say that he is a better person than before he was diagnosed. Cancer teaches you to be humble, to respect others and to cherish every single day that you wake up. The smaller things in life now seem so magical, a walk in the park, a sunset over his hometown, seeing his wife smiling and happier than ever before. Stephen has faced one of the hardest battles that he will ever face, and now wants to use his story to inspire others.
Live and cherish every single moment, do the things you always wanted to do. Buy that car you always wanted, visit the countries you have seen on the television, and always tell your loved ones how much you love them, as you never know when life will deal you a hand you never ever realised was coming.
Despite the wave of positivity that he and his family now ride on, the shadow of cancer will always remain, and they know statistically that there is still a 50% chance he won’t be here in 3 years time. It’s a thought he doesn’t try to dwell on too much, but it’s a figure that moulds his decision making and speed of thought. It’s scary to think you may not be here in 5 years, but in a weird way, it’s actually reassuring you know that at this stage. Think about those people involved in the recent plane crashes, or those who go to a football match and never come home… there is no timescale, no sand in the egg timer slowly running down to the end. The statistics given by doctors have allowed him and his family to shorten his lifespan to 5 years from diagnosis….and they realise they need to make the most of this time and do what they’ve always wanted to do ….no regrets. In this respect, Stephen counts himself lucky, as it’s a luxury not everybody will have.
Stephen looks to the future and plans to continue travelling and living life at 100mph alongside his wife and their new Golden Retriever, Basil, who also has been given a second chance at life after being rescued from the street in Bosnia. It almost seems like fate has brought one man, his wife and their dog together, to live out the rest of their lives in each others company, savoring every moment.
If Stephen was to give any tips to people who had just been diagnosed with testicular cancer, it would be to remain positive, and to trust both your instincts and the advice of the medical professionals around you. Diagnosis, treatment and care is better than ever before, and despite the darkest days (there are many) there is always hope of a brighter future due to modern medicine and science. Don’t ever lose hope and never give up, because if you do, this unforgiving disease will pull you under, and never let go.
Finally, you will have to use the support of those around you, your family and friends….beating cancer is a team effort. Don’t be scared to admit everything is not ok, it’s perfectly fine to be upset and to admit that you are scared, it’s human nature….be kind to yourself, and never forget how brave and incredible you are to face up to such a life changing situation head on…You are not alone in your battle, everybody is behind you in your fight!