As the sun sets on my 19th year post-cancer, I feel blessed that I am still here to enjoy such sunsets.  This year has been a challenge but never as hard as those life-changing words, surgery, and therapy some 19 years ago today. 

Keep attacking 
 

One last challenge - The Great North Run

At the ripe, wizened old age of 60, when most are eyeing a racing green convertible to blast through their mid-life crisis with the top down and dignity up in the air, I've taken a path less travelled (and arguably less comfortable). Yes, instead of prowling the streets in a sports car that screams "I'm still relevant!", I've decided to dust off my running shoes for the 2024 Great North Run. This decision comes nearly two decades after cancer decided to redecorate my body, taking with it half my upper body and neck muscles, and a good 22 years since I last thought running 13.1 miles was a good idea.

Why, you ask, would a seemingly sane person choose to chase after their youth in such a sweat-inducing, lung-busting manner? The answer lies not in a quest for lost abs or a misplaced sense of invincibility, but in a cause that hits closer to home than the finish line—I'm running for dementia care. This pivot from mid-life crisis cliché to charity half marathoner is inspired by my mother's decade-long tangle with Lewy Body Dementia, a journey that's been about as fun as running in lead shoes. It's been a saga of love, loss, and learning to find the humor in forgetting where you've put it.

Amidst this backdrop of an emotional marathon, there's a beacon of hope—my daughter, soon to be the family's first Mental Health Nurse. Her graduation isn't just a proud moment; it's a symbol of hope for every family navigating the choppy waters of mental health challenges. So, in a plot twist no one saw coming, not even me, I'm trading the mid-life crisis sports car for a pair of running shoes and a fundraising page. This run isn't just for kicks; it's a stride towards making a difference in the lives of those affected by dementia, a condition that's as challenging to explain as my decision to run a half marathon at 60.

Join me in this comedic quest, where every step is a laugh in the face of adversity, and every mile a testament to turning a potentially embarrassing mid-life crisis into a cause worth sweating for. Let's show dementia care that we're in it for the long run, proving that the only thing more unpredictable than my running pace is the impact we can make when we channel our crises into causes. Here's to running towards a future where every step is a stride towards understanding, support, and maybe, just maybe, a less clichéd way of dealing with turning 60.

https://ajbellgreatnorthrun2024.enthuse.com/pf/nigel-gooding-40aeb

Cancer never escapes your mind

Eighteen years ago, I closed a chapter on my experience with mouth cancer, a chapter I naively thought was sealed forever. But life, in its unpredictable rhythm, has brought me to the threshold of new medical investigations for the same illness that once consumed my world. This time, the journey is less about physical endurance and more about navigating the complex corridors of my mind that reflect and bring fear founded or unfounded of a repeat of the treatment that left me physically scared for life. 

Last week I noticed some untoward features of my already damaged mouth and throat and needed urgent intervention and investigation with the usual UK Cancer Pathway GP – Acute Hospital – Biopsy.  I saw the GP within 2 days of my new concerns within 4 days I saw the ENT Consultant who was positive but suggested we check her diagnosis with a biopsy.  This will be undertaken next week, just 13 days from my initial interaction with the NHS.  This is in stark contrast to 18 years ago.  I have written before in the blog about Gordon Brown's government introducing the two-week cancer pathway which for those of us who meet the threshold has become a lifesaver. 

It was surreal walking through the corridors of a hospital that two years ago today I work my last shift as an HCA in the Emergency Department.  A corridor that today was full of people but a corridor that at 4am looked very different that night two years ago.   I reflected that I knew every part of that hospital either as a patient or a former employee. 

The challenges of the mind that this period conjures can be summed up as traumatic.  Those of have been through this themselves or with loved ones will recognise those feelings that I have developed in the last few days.  

These include:

The Weight of Waiting

There's an inexplicable weight that comes with waiting for medical investigations, especially after years of being cancer-free. The sterile smell of the hospital, the hushed tones in the corridors, the sympathetic glances from the staff – they all resurrect a sense of unease, a reminder of a past I thought I had left behind.  I cried when I left the consultation room knowing that initial consultations were positive but next week my biopsy will be undertaken by the same consultant who saved my life 18 years ago.  This will be surreal for us both.

In these moments of waiting, my mind becomes a theatre of 'what ifs'. It's a space where dark thoughts play out their performances, uninvited yet insistent. The anxiety is less about the physical implications and more about the mental toll of revisiting a place of vulnerability.

Echoes of the Past

The echo of my previous experience with mouth cancer reverberates through these new investigations. It's not just the fear of the disease itself, but the apprehension of the unknown. The past becomes a mirror reflecting my current anxieties, magnifying them. I know the treatment; I have dreamt that at least this time I will not be fed by a tube.

The Silent Struggle

One of the most challenging aspects is the internal struggle. It's a journey that's often silent, unseen by those around me. To the outside world, I am going through motions and routines, but inside, there's a constant negotiation with fear and hope.

Finding Solace in the Present

Amid this turmoil, I've found solace in the present moment. It's in the small joys, the everyday interactions, and the simple pleasures that I find a reprieve from the worry. These moments are precious, not because they are an escape but because they are real, tangible, and grounding. 

I made homemade soup, granola, and rice pudding tonight, a simple pleasure but a distraction it was an unplanned event but now I know my mind was telling me to be busy. 

Sharing the Journey

Writing about this experience is not just about sharing my story; it's also a way to process the complex emotions that come with it. It's a way to connect with others who might be on similar paths and to offer a sense of solidarity in our shared, yet unique, experiences.

A Quiet Resilience

As I await the results, as I walk through this familiar yet different path, I recognise a quiet resilience within me. It's not loud or bold, but it's there – in my willingness to face each day, in my capacity to hold hope and fear in the same breath.

To Those Who Understand

To those who have walked this path, who are walking it now, or who might one day walk it know that your feelings are valid, your fears are understood, and your courage is recognised, even in its quietest form.

Keep attacking!

18 Years on

So today marks 18 years since my cancer diagnosis, and I always mark this as the day I am "cancer free."

I have in the last 18 years lived for now, facing the sun shadows can only fall behind you.  I have had a busy year, walking the Inca and Queen Charlotte Trails, completing a Post Graduate Certificate in Higher Education and trying to live each day as my last. 

I try and forget the anniversaries of my cancer days.  I am reminded of them every day as the lasting side effects of radiotherapy and head and neck surgery badger me everyday, and will do until the day I die.  However this year I promised myself no tears and gentle slide into June until I heard the news that Councillor Kevin Mitchell is now the Lord Mayor of Exeter.   I read this and wept. 

For those who have read my blog will be aware that during my cancer treatment I own a depth of gratitude  to four people, my late sister Pat and her husband Ron, my dear friend Orpah and a nurse who at the time was working in Yeo Ward, one Kevin Mitchell.  

I was a regular stayer on Yeo ward in 2005 at the Royal Devon & Exeter Hospital, for those who do not the hospital well, Yeo ward is the oncology ward.  Kevin was one of many nurses who did amazing things in a ward that was blessed with serenity when discharging their care, alas some of it palliative care.  I told many stories of my time in that ward, but one story of Kevin's humanity and care is worth repeating.

Radiotherapy meant that I could not eat, drink or take medicine, I was rapidly losing weight and the chemotherapy meant that I could not have a peg tube.  The only answer was to have a gastric nasal tube fitted, which meant a long tube inserted through my nose into my stomach.  I was scared, but weary as I had not eaten for days, Kevin was on night shift and we had become good friends on my many stays on the ward.  The tube insertion was planned on a different ward at 0900, there was no nurse or HCA available to go with me, so Kevin gave up his own time and stayed on, unpaid to go with me.  The process was painful, his jokes, reassurance and even at one point I had to grab his hand as the tube was inserted stayed with me as a selfless act of nursing that went beyond the realms of what was expected. 

Kevin and his Yeo colleagues was the reason I signed and worked as an HCA during covid. 

His charity FORCE was also were crucial in my acceptance and support during a difficult time. Exeter should be proud to have such an amazing man as Lord Mayor.

https://news.exeter.gov.uk/new-lord-mayor-of-exeter-cllr-kevin-mitchell-chooses-force-cancer-charity/

#keepattacking 

D-Day - 17 years cancer free

Ask anyone who has had or has cancer will know what the importance of dates are then you will get a clear understanding of how a simple anniversary can provide a mental trauma.  Today marks 17 years of my diagnosis of cancer and as there were so many dates in 2005 I use this one as my D-Day, diagnosis day.  You live through the experiences of 17 years ago today as it were yesterday.  

The year I decided to deflect my thoughts of the past, after all they are not a life sentence and I will next week embark on a hike up the Inca Trail with a visit to Machu Picchu, the deflection strategy has worked a treat. 

This years clinical update brings to you the final demise of my teeth on my lower left jaw through Osteoradionecrosis.  As I written before with many cancers the after effects of the treatment bring lingering side effects and now with the lower left jaw clear of teeth I hope things will settle down in terms of head and jaw pain.  My left shoulder and neck, are holding up as I changed my exercise regime to do less weight bearing exercises which were building muscle to compensate for the lack of muscle in my left neck.  My hearing in my left side has gone for good following the same radiotherapy that killed my jaw, but hey "we go again" for another year.

On a personal level it was a good year, my son finally graduated, my daughter went to University to become a student nurse and I acquired a new dog Beau or she acquired me. 

#Keepattacking everyone let us hope I will report back next year! 

Readjusting life and work goals

Field Marshal Helmuth Karl Bernhard Graf von Moltke is credited with the quote that "No plan survives contact with the enemy" 

Today my son finally graduated (Covid delays) with an upper degree in German and Japanese from the University of Manchester. 

Those who follow my blog will remember my plan post-cancer was to keep well enough to see my children now 23 & 20 to 18.  My plan was never to be here to see them graduate, it was more of an aspiration and as a result, I made life and business plans accordingly.  

You set yourself short goals post-cancer for obvious reasons.  When I was undergoing radiotherapy the trauma to my head, neck and throat meant that I had a score chart marking off each day.  My plan is to get through the 30 plus days of treatment and then the 3 months of recovery of vocal cords and the ability not to be fed through a nasal tube and count off the days I can return to work. 

I take my personal life learning into life.  Getting both my children to graduation is a new goal, one down, one to go.  It was never in my plan.  It was never in my work plan to have a business that in 2022/23 will achieve a 7 figure turnover, 5 plus people relying on me and so personal and life goals have been changed. 

I am teaching my students at Plymouth Marjon University this week the theory, the research around work-life balance. Whatever you do in life and business always be prepared to rip up the plan and start again as my plan is to ensure that in two years' time I see my daughter graduate as a registered nurse.   Remember the balance in life. 

#Keepattacking

Using my Disability to create a positive narrative

 

As someone with a disability or two, I am able to lead a full and fulfilling life.  My disability does not define me, own me, hinder me or scare me.  It presents me with challenges and I problem-solve daily to work around them; disabled people are awesome problem solvers as we have to do this every day.  I do not want to be treated any different, I do not ask for special favours or treatment, all I ask you is that you respect the need to work a little bit differently with me to achieve the same outcome that you would with a person without a disability. 
 
As Chair of the Disability Network in a large Acute Hospital, working alongside Minority Ethnic Network and LGBTQ plus colleagues I have reflected on the events of the last week.  If you asked all of us what the aims of our members are top of the list would be “equality”.  In the eyes of this disabled man equality is not an evangelical crusade against everything that is available to people who are without a disability but all I ask is recognition that I am a fully functional human being who can add value to those around me.  
 

Our task is simple, to start the long journey that changes the culture in a workplace that will understand our challenges.  I grew up with the standard teenage insult was to call fellow schoolboys “Spastic” or “Joey Deacon” the latter a reference to the author and TV personality of the same name who had cerebral palsy.  Whilst this was seen as harmless “banter” by teenage boys the effect on people with a disability hearing these words are devasting and cause of angst.  I am glad to see that the use of these phrases has all but disappeared in wider society.  

 
As we have seen in the past few days the culture that surrounds us has a long way to go to meet my aim of equality.  Social media comments from English male cricketers about women and the LGBTQ plus community, booing footballers taking a stand against racism have hit the headlines.  The comments that “oh things are so politically correct these days” in my experience are forwarded by white middle-aged men, though not exclusively, who have never had to run away from people wanting to harm you physically and mentally because you are gay, black or disabled.  In simple terms they are bullies.  These are the minority in UK society, isolated in the enclaves of their own insecurity.  Their views will not be changed by us as a community being evangelical about our wishes for equality and recognition, they may be changed if their beliefs become isolated and ignored.   We as a group need to welcome all.  Evangelical and over-zealous behaviour from our disabled network will only see us become isolated as those we seek to influence and address their cultural attitudes feel threatened by an over-zealous approach to our aims and approach.  This would counter our objectives and undermine our principles that everyone is equal, disabled or not. 
 
Thirty years ago it was ok to go to the pub, drink five pints and drive, now society frowns upon such behaviour.  Society is already ethically and morally policing the Misogyny, Homophobia, Racism, Disability discrimination that exists.  As campaigners we would be naïve to think that these views will disappear, however as younger generations replace the views of bigots, racists and homo and transphobes equality, recognition can be achieved.  People have held these negative views for years to expect them overnight to change these entrenched views because they do not agree with ours is doomed to fail.  All we can do is offer an alternative belief narrative that we are open to discuss our concerns rather than creating our own island whereby we become captives of our own fear.  
 
One last thought for those who will throw back at our campaign I am entitled to free speech, yes you are, you are entitled to your thoughts and no one is taking those away that right.  However, your right does not extend to hurting others.   We all came to this earth equally, and we will leave it as equals, we were not placed on this earth to suffer at the hands or actions of others.  We can play our part let us work with others so they can play theirs. 
 

 

16 years Cancer free - This year is different.

 

Devon - Home 

 

Each year on the 19th of May I consider myself fortunate to have been another year on from Cancer.  It was 16 years ago today that my life changed with my cancer diagnosis that set in train 5 months of treatment and a lifetime challenge of physical and an unseen disability. 

As readers of the blog are aware there were life-changing side effects to my cancer treatment.   My hearing loss and restricted use of my left arm, neck and shoulder still make life a little more challenging than before but great for problem-solving.  

This year a new side effect came onto the scene in the form of osteoradionecrosis.  Osteoradionecrosis is a rare but late effect of radiotherapy. Radiotherapy caused changes to the jawbone, it zaps healthy blood cells and kills them this led to tissue supporting those teeth in the area zapped dying and as a result, teeth in essence falling out.  This year I had 2 extractions on my left side.  This year eating has become a challenge as you default mainly to the opposite side of your jaw to chew and eat.  It was going to happen eventually but another side effect of radiotherapy. 

The approach of my treatment milestones was often tinged with anxiety, but not this year.  My return to nursing has made me reflect on what is important in life and also refocussed my mind on being grateful for still be alive 16 years later.  The passing of my sister from Covid, my main supporter when going through cancer has meant that my focus has been on the living, the future and not looking back. 

#Keepattacking

Covid, Cancer, it makes no difference when it is your Sister.

Pat with my children who are now 19 & 22

My dear sister Patricia (Pat) passed away in the early hours of this morning (29.12.2020) unable to ward off the challenge of a chest infection and  COVID19.  Pat passed away in the Royal Devon & Exeter Hospital and was in the safe and professional hands of the staff of Culm Ward.  (Pat was able to use social media up until her time in Culm, warning people of the risks of Covid until she could no longer)

Pat was admitted on Christmas Eve. I was working in the Emergency Department when Pat was admitted by ambulance to the department.  I knew that name on the screen, burst into tears, the nurse in charge leading me by the hand to get into full PPE so that I could share her final journey. I got to hold her hand, talk to her and support her whilst in ED before she made her final journey to intensive care and then to Culm.  The whole experience very surreal knowing from my experience of Covid patients that have her acute breathing difficulties, her co-morbidities and her age (18 years older than me) meant that it would be unlikely she would see or speak to me again.  

Pat will be known to many of you through this blog as my sister who supported me through my own cancer journey in 2005 and co-wrote many of these articles.  Pat was not everyone's cup of tea, not mine sometimes, but she had a kind heart, this blog and her charity work through Exeter & Exmouth Carnivals testament to her helping of others. 

The transmission of the virus into Pat's shielding home was brought in by an unsuspecting "bubble" family member, who subsequently tested positive.  Whilst some may scoff at Matt Hancock's statement "don't kill your granny" ...alas in Pat's case it was true.   Her last words to me were "Nigel, I have been so safe, so careful" a reference to her and her husband's shielding.  

Pat is survived by her husband Ron, Son Mark, Grand & Great Children.

I have seen how Covid19 affects many patients.  It has no mercy.  I will, I am sure to see many more in the months to come.  When it is your own flesh and blood right in front of you, hooked up to machines and a nurse and doctor in full PPE it brings home the reality that every person needs to know, it kills and has no mercy. 

 

Hello my name is Nigel!

As I wrote before I have returned to the #RD&E Hospital as a #Healthcare Assistant.   Last week I worked a full 12 hour night shift in the Emergency Department, where my feet did not touch the ground for 23000 steps then on Saturday I had a very surreal day on a ward that I have a lot of respect for.

As readers maybe aware my radical neck dissection took place in the RD&E, I spent my recovery in Otter Ward.

On Saturday I returned to the place and the very bed bays where I was told I had cancer and then a week later had my life changed.

The surreal nature of the ward staff asking "have you worked here before" and replying no, "but as a patient I know it like the back of my hand"


To be looking after patients in the bays I recovered in was surreal and an honour.  I was not sure how I would mentally deal with the event, but as we were very busy and had lots to do, time flew and I closed a mental challenge and booked my next shift on Otter when I got home.

Keep attacking

NHS, time to reflect, what have they ever done for us?

I left the Hospital last evening after a long shift.  I was greeted by this beautiful rainbow in the car park which made a perfect picture capture.

For 8 hours I was on my feet, an unusual experience for someone who at 56 considered himself very fit.  I went home and like so many of the patients I cared for that day and all I wanted to do is crawl into bed.  I was lucky I was only on shift for 8 hours, many of my colleagues were there for 12.  You are always on shift, always aware to patients needs and support, always busy.

You have to be in front line nursing to understand how physically and mentally tough it actually is. I left the hospital last night mentally rewarded that I had supported our patients, but physically and mentally exhausted.  The effects lingering today.   I am not going to bang on about nurses pay, but frankly many of you would be appalled by how little nursing staff are actually paid!

Sunday marks the 72nd birthday of the #NHS.  This year the power of our National Health Service in coping under tremendous pressure has been evident. In 72 years I have reflected what the NHS has done for me.

• It brought my children into this life, safely and securely, coincidently in the same room, in the same hospital as me and will support them in their lives.
• It cared for my grandparents, parents and supported them at the end of lives with dignity and respect.
• They gave me a new lease of life in 2005 in my cancer treatment and support. 
• They watch over my family day in day out, there 24/7, ready to serve and support physically and mentally. no need to take my cheque book or credit card. 
• It has provided opportunities to pay and employ me and my family on numerous times. 

So feel free to clap on Sunday, use my picture on social media, whatever you do just be thankful we no longer have to "pay for the Doctor" 

#Keepattacking

15 years to the day I return to the Hospital, this time as an employee.

15 years ago today marks the day that changed my life. My radical neck dissection started at the RD&E Hospital started my recovery from cancer. 
It was time to give something back and after one month I am glad I did. 
#Keepattacking 

15 years later I am giving something back.  I today started my new role as a part-time Health Care Assistant (I will do 1 or 2 days a week) at the very hospital in which my surgery was performed.....fate, coincidence or part of life's script who knows? but the treatment clearly worked.

#keepattacking

When being chased by an imaginary lion, do not stop to ask its name.

15 years ago today my life changed.  In some respect, it changed for the better, in some it did not.  The clear positives are that I am alive and recently returned from Australia, if not sooner than I would have liked, my objectives for my children to reach adulthood and no return of cancer has been achieved. 

The downsides are clearly mental trauma, that lingers with cancer or any serious illness treatment, the muscle and body damage that are side effects of surgery and the slow decay of your teeth caused by lack of salvia. 

The phalanx of "celebratory" messages are often unwelcome.  You write and talk because it is a release from mental and physical trauma.  You share not because you want to celebrate, but because you want to forget and move on.  I hate May.  The 19th and the 26th will be etched in my memory forever.  The day my life changed and no matter how good, no matter how positive surviving 15 years there is still guilt.  I remember Yeo ward as if it was yesterday, I remember friends I made, who the next day were surrounded by their loved ones saying goodbye. 

My good and dear friend Martin Lynn who after many treatments to suppress his cancer died recently.  I miss him.  To have someone so close and understanding the journey you have been on no longer in your life is painful, he understood my guilt, he sat listening and nodded, that was the only recognition I needed.

So in recognition of my 15 years, I will write to all those friends and people who played a significant part in my treatment and the last 15 years, a team of people to keep me alive.  Doctors, Nurses, Family, Children, Friends and Work colleagues.  Without them I would not be here.  

#keepattacking

The importance of goals in life.

When you have cancer you set yourself goals.

Short term, they relate to treatment "days left of treatment" or dates such as "start chemo" but post-cancer they take on a different meaning.  They are longer-term, examples are, go back to work, change lifestyle habit to help me not see a repeat, see my next birthday in or see my children turn 18.

In my case, it was 2 fold, in 2005 when my children were 6 and 4 I wanted to see them become adults at 18.  In the case of my son, that was 2 years ago and in the case of my daughter, that was this year.  I also set one other milestone, see them in their chosen career or University course.

Today is where my post-cancer goal-setting ends, post-cancer I have achieved mentally and physically what I set out to do back in the days of cancer treatment.

My daughter Ellen, today starts her nursing degree at Plymouth University.  Ellen is studying mental health nursing a challenging and rewarding degree which will lead to a caring career.  Tomorrow I fly to Tokyo to see my son, Will who is 3 years into a German and Japanese degree.

Having goals in life, business, personal or sport are important, without them you lose the focus, so never mind how small, important or big they are keeping them in focus,  Develop a lifestyle, work habits or attitude to deliver them.



In my case I changed my lifestyle, lost weight, give up drinking, developed a fitness regime and established my own business to take away the stresses of corporate life, surrounded myself with positive friends and family.

It does not mean it was easy, quick or perfect as regular readers will know that the pain of surgery follows me every day in my life, however it maintained a focus to be here when my children were growing up and my next goal is simple, to be around when I and they graduate, in 2021 and 2022.

#Keepattacking