Paul Mendelson
Television and film scriptwriter Paul Mendelson, 58, lives with his wife in North-West London and has two daughters. Paul was diagnosed with not one, but two cancers which are exclusive to men: testicular and prostate. His personal experience has been incorporated into his scripts, including the acclaimed ITV drama, Losing It staring Martin Clunes.
‘To find myself diagnosed with two types of male cancer within 15 years was a big shock because the chance of one person getting both is pretty rare. I'll always be thankful for having done a routine check on myself "down there" one night in bed 20 years ago when I was 38. My GP said that the lump I had discovered in one of my testicles was probably a hydrocele, which is a harmless collection of fluid in the scrotum. Further tests were unclear, but the specialist thought it was better to put me under the knife anyway and have a look.
They removed the whole testicle and I was in hospital for three days. My first words when I came round from the anaesthetic were: "Have they cut it off?" because I assumed the worst. Inside the testicle was a cancerous tumour. An MRI scan revealed the cancer hadn't spread, but I had radiotherapy for six weeks on my chest and groin, in case cancer cells too small to be picked up by the MRI scan had reached the chest through the lymph glands.
At first, I really feared the removal of one testicle would affect my masculinity. To a man, it's your essential equipment. Yet having only one testicle doesn't make you any less potent or fertile. The doctors offered me the option of a prosthetic testicle, but I didn't want to see any surgeons and knives again. After five years I was given the all clear.
I was shattered 15 years later, in 2004, when I discovered that having survived the young man's disease of testicular cancer, I now had the older man's disease of prostate cancer. My uncle had developed prostate cancer two years earlier in 2002 when he was in his 70s, although he has since recovered. According to research, men whose fathers, uncles or brothers have had prostate cancer are more likely to develop it themselves. Nevertheless, I still didn't get a routine PSA blood test (Prostate-Specific Antigen, the protein which can indicate the presence of cancer in the prostate) done until January 2004. I believe it saved my life.
It came back quite high. My GP said it might just be a blip, so he decided to re-check it the following month. When I phoned up for the result of the second test, I was told it was fine and there was no need to see the doctor. Some months later I had to see a doctor on an unrelated matter. Because I'm long-sighted, I could see on the GP's computer screen that the second PSA test result had actually been 5.5 - even higher than the first one. That meant a 25 per cent chance of cancer.
Something had gone wrong at the health centre when my regular GP was away and his partner had overlooked the significance of that second result. (So always ask for the numbers!). Two weeks later, after a biopsy, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. My daughters, who were 28 and 26 by then, were upset and shocked but very supportive. As for my wife, she was magnificently brave and - as always - the beautiful rock in my life. My main feeling was anxiety about how long I would have to see my grandson grow up, because he was only 15 months old at the time. I remember thinking: "Will he remember me?" That was my biggest fear.
The operation to remove my prostate was more heavy-duty than the one for testicular cancer and the worst aspect was the recovery afterwards. Thankfully the prostatectomy was a success. Although they discovered my prostate was 40 per cent cancerous, which meant that the tumour was huge, it was all contained within the prostate itself. Now that I've had the organ removed, my PSA has gone down to zero.
Although my specialist says he's not expecting that the cancer will come back, there's always a chance, so I will need to be monitored annually for the rest of my life. I've been delivered from the jaws of death twice, so I feel as if I've had a third lease of life. Somebody up there likes me and I feel very lucky. My hope for the future is, of course, that they find a cure for all cancers. The only way we can do this is to raise awareness of charities like the ICR who are doing all they can to help.”
