I said I had cancer on first date ...now we’re getting wed
Ahead of World Cancer Day on Saturday, 33, reveals his battle with testicular cancer. The M&S manager and fiancée Zara prove love CAN conquer all
I had gone to watch Manchester City play in the FA Cup Final with my dad and brother, but the next day I woke up in our hotel room unable to move. Dad drove me straight to hospital. I was in so much pain I howled whenever a doctor touched me. I’d had pains in my groin for a while but my GP had suspected an infection and gave me antibiotics. I’d even gone for a scan which showed the same.
But this time scans showed a dark mass on my right testicle. It was so big I had no choice but to get it removed – and even that didn’t mean I was in the clear. It was testicular cancer.
My world fell apart in that moment. It had taken over six months to get an accurate diagnosis and the tumour might well have grown and spread, but I was just grateful it had finally been picked up.
In the two weeks waiting for surgery I knew I had to grasp anything positive, any distractions I could. I’d known Zara through work. We’d arranged to go and see a Guns N’ Roses tribute band but the gig was two days before my surgery.
Going on your first date with the prospect of major surgery hanging over you, not to mention cancer, wouldn’t be anyone’s idea of romance, but after the gig I decided to tell her everything – how I had cancer and was having the surgery.
I felt it would be unfair on her to hide this if our relationship ever became serious.
A lot of women would quite rationally freeze and not know what to say, then maybe find their excuses in the next few days to call it off, but for Zara the opposite was true.
She was so sympathetic, and made it clear it didn’t faze her. I got a glimpse then of what an amazing person she is.
The surgery went better than expected and in a couple of days I was up and about and meeting Zara for nice long chats over a coffee. I felt so positive I wanted to get on with life, with my amazing new girlfriend.
But follow-up tests a week later showed the cancer had spread to my lungs and stomach. I remember getting that news with my mum and dad beside me and me breaking down crying. I’d felt I’d weathered the storm and the future looked bright.
Now I was further back than when I started and didn’t know if I could put Zara through this. I was told I’d have to start intensive chemotherapy immediately.
I called Zara straight away, and within minutes she was knocking on my front door. While I wanted to wallow in self-pity, she was having none of it and dragged me away for the weekend so we could talk through how we’d beat this together, like we had before. I was staggered by her strength, her ability to see the positives. We got home and, as planned, got the clippers to shave my head before treatment made my hair fall out.
In that moment Zara froze and said she couldn’t – the reality had hit home. It was then my turn to step up, so I grabbed the clippers and shaved a stripe down the middle of my head, then passed them to her and told her she had no choice now.
I remember thinking she was just 25 and should be out having fun, not shaving hair off her sick boyfriend’s head. But after that she didn’t flinch once. In August, 2013, I started my chemotherapy. Zara was
The first sign is usually a swelling of one of the testicles, or a pea-sized hard lump on the front or side of a testicle.
Other signs to look out for are fluid in the scrotum and a dull ache or, more rarely, acute It takes place on February 4 every year to raise awareness and funds for research. Get involved at working and also studying for her dissertation at Manchester Uni, but came in to see me whenever she could. I put on weight, my skin looked terrible, I was bald and looked twice my age. But every day she told me she loved me and we’d make it through this.
Being in the Christie and seeing other cancer sufferers dying brought home how real this was. I met one young dad who was terminally ill. His wife had seen Zara and I chatting and she came over and told me Zara was a “keeper”. If I made it through I had to hold on to her, she said.
It was then, in those darkest hours, I knew I would marry this amazing woman.
A week before Christmas I was told the chemo had been a success. The cancer seemed to have gone – although there was, and is, no guarantee it wouldn’t come back.
I was determined to get back to strength and managed to run a 10km race by the end of the February. Since then we’ve raised over £4,000 for Cancer Research UK.
In June 2015, I finally proposed to not just the love of my life, but my saviour. We were on holiday in Portugal when I pulled the ring out. She just said: ‘About time too!’
I still go for check-ups, but the chances of the cancer returning are dwindling. Our big day is September 30. It’s incredible to think how our relationship began, but hopefully we have many happy years ahead.