A Cancer Diary: Battling Bowel Cancer by Allan Scott
A terminal cancer diagnosis is a shock for anyone, even if you think you are prepared. For Allan Scott, his immediate response was to take the treatment offered to try and prolong his life for as long as possible. To be able to say goodbye properly to friends and family and enjoy as much time as possible with loved ones. To be able to close his business down in a responsible manner so he could ensure his clients would be properly looked after in the future. And, as writing was his profession, to share his journey via his Battling Bowel Cancer diary blog and to raise funds for cancer charities.
Please read Allan’s bowel cancer diary and share it with anyone who has a terminal cancer diagnosis or any other life-limiting conditions.
This is an introduction to Allan’s story:
The giddy terminus?
‘Without treatment, you’ve got about six months. With treatment… maybe two or three years.’
That’s not a sentence anyone wants to hear. Even when – as I foolishly thought – I was almost prepared for it.
My very first test revealed, to my amazement, that I had bowel cancer. What I hadn’t counted on were secondaries on my liver and lungs.
But I wasn’t in any doubt about my response. ‘I’ll take the treatment.’ I glanced at my wife of 33 years, who was understandably looking shocked. ‘I’m not ready to leave Rosemary on her own just yet. And we’ve got stuff to do.’
Since then – after some initial hesitation – I’ve had bowel surgery for a stoma, leaving the tumour effectively isolated while I go through chemotherapy. (At the time of writing I’m having the fifth of six sessions tomorrow). After that – who knows? We’ll see what the scans show, and take it from there.
But I’m not giving up.
As it happens, I believe in miracles. (I was one – at least according to the Harley Street specialist who told my mother she would never conceive.) But I don’t expect miracles. I also believe in the power of prayer. (Rosemary was my answer.) But I don’t expect all my prayers to be answered, either.
So what’s left?
Well, as it happens I’m 50% pure Viking (and as stubborn as my wonderful Danish mother, who never gave up). So I’ll take the Viking approach. Because even when the odds are all against me, I’ll fight until I can’t fight any more. And go out, God willing, with some suitably pithy and ironic exit line.
In the meantime I’ll make the most of the life I have, the love I have, the friends I have, and the happiness I have – and do as much as I can to share it out.
The Battling Bowel Cancer website and blog
I’m a writer. Have been since age – oh – about four and a half. So I’ve had just over 65 years to sharpen my skills. And that’s why I’ve built a Battling Bowel Cancer website where I’m writing a Cancer Diary. To share my experience with others, and maybe give them some hope and encouragement along the way.
And at a time when most charities are short of vital funding, I’ve picked two for special attention. St Nicholas Hospice is attached to the West Suffolk Hospital, where I’m getting my treatment.
I may well finish up at the hospice, so I’m keen to support them before I do.
The other charity is A Bear Called Buttony, a charity for children who, like me, have had a stoma operation. They get a personalised teddy bear with a button ‘stoma’ – a toy that looks like them, and which they can show to other children. I had plenty of bullying for being ‘different’ as a child, and this sounds like a great way to give stoma kids confidence and to help them deal with the inevitable questions from friends.
And finally, it’s my 70th birthday on 4 December. I’m planning to have at least a couple more – but in the meantime please help me celebrate what could be my last by putting a few quid in my Facebook appeal to support St Nicholas Hospice. You can find the appeal at https://www.facebook.com/donate/677696497306142/, and you’ll also be able to see my updates on Facebook.
Thank you – and as Dave Allan used to say, ‘May your God go with you.’