
Who can you talk to? Who will understand? Who will know what to say?
Your wife or husband, maybe. Your friends. Your doctor. Perhaps all of the above.
And yet when I had cancer I found there were some things I couldn’t or didn’t want to say to them. They were too painful. My emotions were too confused. I didn’t want to burden them with information which might overwhelm them and leave them unsure how to respond.
It was my Macmillan nurse who filled the gap. Knowledgeable and empathetic. Caring, but at one remove. Able to be my champion when I needed one.
The operation to remove the tumour in my lung was a triumphant success. The cancer was all removed. Yet, so too was my voice. The laryngeal nerve – which carries the electrical pulses which make your vocal cord vibrate – had been hit or cut or stunned during the op.
The operation meant to remove the tumour in my lung was a triumphant success. The cancer was all removed. Yet, so too was my voice. The laryngeal nerve – which carries the electrical pulses which make your vocal cord vibrate and open and close – had been hit or cut or stunned during the op. The crucial nerve isn’t, I soon discovered, tucked away neatly safe from intruding surgical instruments. It hangs about awkwardly – like a bit of dodgy DIY wiring. Accidents do happen.
When mine happened – when ‘that guy off the telly’ (as I then was) had to be told his vocal cords were damaged and might take many months to recover, if they recovered – it was my Macmillan nurse who saw my fear and watched as I wiped away my tears. It was he who I felt able to tell that I was more scared of losing my voice than my cancer. He listened when I said I needed an explanation from the hospital but I didn’t want to blame anyone or hold them to account.
Macmillan nurses are specialists who can offer physical and emotional support, coordinate care and offer information on your diagnosis, the treatment you face and ways to manage your symptoms. They can help those who love you and are caring for you.
I knew that he understood. Just as he would have understood if I was struggling to cope with pain or was terrified of the side-effects of the chemo. Luckily I had very little hair to lose. Macmillan nurses are specialists who can offer physical and emotional support, coordinate care and offer information on how to understand your diagnosis, the treatment you face and the ways to manage your symptoms. They can help those who love you and are caring for you. They can act as a point of contact connecting patients with local support groups and services; give advice on practical issues like dealing with your employer, claiming benefits or accessing social care. Their expertise helps people navigate the hazards that can be thrown up on what’s now called your cancer journey.
Their expertise helps you navigate the hazards that can be thrown up on what’s now called your cancer journey. So it is then, whenever a friend or a colleague tells me they’ve joined the club no one wants to be a member of, I tell them ‘Get yourself a Macmillan nurse if you can’.
Why? Well, because they’ve seen it all before. My Macmillan nurse had dealt with people far sicker and much less lucky than me. I could speak to him without worrying what impact my words would have on him or how it made me look.
So it is then, whenever a friend or a colleague tells me they’ve joined the club no one wants to be a member of, I tell them ‘Get yourself a Macmillan nurse if you possibly can’.
It is ten years now since my cancer was treated. Happily it’s not shown any sign of returning. My voice has though – slowly at first but eventually so that I barely need to think about those days when I feared I might never be able to use it to broadcast again.
I asked about my Macmillan nurse a while ago. Oh, I was told, he ended up getting cancer so he had to give up the job. I dearly hope that he had someone as good as I had to look after him.
The Independent is proud to partner with Macmillan Cancer Support for their iconic Coffee Morning fundraiser. For every person who signs up to host a Coffee Morning through this article, The Independent will donate £10, up to £20,000, helping people affected by cancer access the vital support they need.
Sign up to host a Coffee Morning for a chance to get creative, bring people together, and make a real difference for people living with cancer, no matter who they are or where they live.
Is this the way Rachel Reeves can go for broke and put 2p on income tax?
My ‘battle for Blackheath’ should alarm anyone who loves where they live
Britain is once again the sick man of Europe
Teenage doomscrollers need to have their phones taken away
As a mother I know that what Trump says about autism isn’t just fake – it’s dangerous
‘Half-baked and London-centric’: Readers weigh in on ‘taxi tax’ Budget row