When I walked out of the consultant’s room and met Bally, the senior nurse, I knew that my whole life was about to change. Nothing was confirmed. No MRI scans had been done, no blood tests, nor did I feel anything at all. No illness, no temperature, no blood pressure — nothing — apart from the fact that I found swallowing food difficult.
Bally handed me a form to have an MRI scan within a week. As we were coming up to the Easter bank holiday weekend, it was surprising how quickly Bally was able to arrange things. This is when I knew. As I had stepped out from the consultant’s room, I had known. And I was so afraid. My heart was pumping like a steam engine at full throttle.
Suddenly, there were a million thoughts running through my mind. Thoughts of my wife, Harsha. My son and daughter. Then my sisters, brothers, in-laws — and the list went on. Then thoughts about the house. Followed by a million what ifs.
I was dumbstruck. I got in the car and tears were welling up in my eyes. I was asking that great Man in the heavens above — WHY me? I was on autopilot.
I sat behind the steering wheel, started the car and drove out of the hospital car park.
On the way home, the thoughts running through my head were getting worse. I couldn’t possibly put them all down on paper.
I don’t remember arriving home. But I parked the car as I usually do, half on and off the pavement. I picked up my mobile from the dashboard and instinctively dialled a number I knew would respond.
When he picked up the phone, I immediately broke down. I couldn’t carry on. The lump in my throat felt like a large rock stuck there. It was choking me.
He was panicking at the other end of the phone — but very controlled, as always.
“What’s the matter? I’m coming over.”
“No,” I said. The first words spoken since I’d driven from the hospital. “I think I have cancer.”
“I’m coming over.”
“No. I need time to think. I’ll call you.”
“Are you sure? I think you need someone.”
“I know. But I need to be alone for a few minutes before going inside the house.”
“OK. Look — if you need me, I’ll be there as soon as you call.”
“Thanks. I know you will. Bye for now.”
And with that I ended the call. I sat for what seemed an eternity, looking at the sky and the passing traffic. But in reality, I was there only a couple of minutes. I had to go home. I had left Harsha by herself. She was ill herself and I’d been gone long enough. Time to get back to routine. I didn’t know then, but this one twenty-minute appointment with an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist would change the course of my life ahead…
