Sorry it’s cancer

So I’ve just been told I have a tumour and that my testicle needs removing, with surgery being booked in for the following week. I’ve got the nurse staring at me smiling and the doctor going about his business and spouting all sorts at me. I’ve got the jist of it and I’m alright albeit a bit numb. He says Im going to get bloods done and a CT scan today! He then asks ‘do you want kids’ and confirms that they can organise for me to visit a sperm bank just in case I do have chemo and it affects me, so of course I said yes.

Following the confirmation of cancer within seconds I find myself following the nurse down the corridor into what can only be described as the ‘sorry youve just been told you have cancer’ room, it’s comfortably formal with a computer in the corner for the nurse to type up. ‘Have you got any questions?’ and the only thing going through my head was why didn’t I have ballotellis shirt on, ‘why always me’ it was my way of finding light in it all, as I certainly am not woe is me, but the nurse clearly wasn’t a football fan. So after a few minutes of silence bar the typing of the keyboard, I just ask questions that I already know the answers to, kind of. ‘So surgery next Friday, will i get a letter to confirm?’ And for the immediate, ‘will you be taking me to get my bloods done?’. She says yep you’ll get confirmation of times by Letter and yes I’ll take you to get your bloods done.

She then asks me have I given any thought to prosthetics? I felt like saying, I’ve just just been told literally 5 minutes ago do you think my first thought was getting a fake ball put in!? I told her no, I’ll just go natural and embrace the one ball ness..at the end of the day I’m the only person who sees!

The nurse goes through standard questions with me and next of kin and then asks about the sperm bank, confirming that she will send the request over and they will be in contact with me directly to sort. She gives me a folder with loads of information in and she walks me off down the corridor to get my bloods done. Every passing nurse and doctor appear to know what’s happened and look at you almost with that sorry look, and all I can do is smile back. Before I know it I’m in a room getting my bloods taken, looking away as always, she starts taking my blood but with everything that’s going on I start to feel woozy and a hot wave comes on. Inside my head probably sounds like Pneumatic drill going off! I wait a minute or so and then ask do you know where I’m going next, and she said follow the signs, almost like a yellow brick road to the scanning department. I slowly shuffle off with my jelly legs, not feeling great and still haven’t had a chance to speak to Ellen!

I greet the receptionist and they say oh yes doctor XX made us aware, please take a seat, and I’m sat in a room full of people with a tiny bit of time to reflect on what’s going on. My mind kind of went blank and drifted to wondering what’s wrong with everyone else in the room, still not able to muster up the courage to text ellen, but I try...no bloody signal! So there I am, time to think and the doctors words ring round my head ’sorry it’s cancer‘.