DAY MY LIFE WAS TURNED ON ITS HEAD
EX-SCARLETS STAR ‘SMILER’ ON CANCER BATTLE:
Former Wales and Lions hooker MATTHEW REES is one of the most respected players of the professional era. As his career reaches its close the ex-Scarlet, nicknamed ‘Smiler’ has told the story of his on and off-field highs and lows in a fascinating book, Reasons to Smile. In 2013, Matthew noticed a lump on one of his testicles. When it was still there at the end of May while he was in Hong Kong, he resolved to see the Wales team doctor on his return. He takes up the story...
THE doctor completed an examination and told me that there was nothing to worry about. I received a course of antibiotics to take, and all expectations were that the lump would go away.
The pre-season was my first with the Cardiff Blues, and as mentioned previously, I was feeling in really good shape.
At the end of August, though, I went to see Gareth Jones, the team doctor at Cardiff Blues, as the lump was still there. It hadn’t changed in size from what I could see and feel, but I just wanted it checked as it had now been a while since I’d first spotted it in April, with no improvement.
I explained to Gareth about my previous visit to the Wales doctor and he completed an examination – his conclusion was the same: nothing to worry about, and another course of antibiotics.
In October 2013, Cardiff Blues travelled to Exeter to play them in a Heineken Cup tie. The game was played on a Sunday afternoon, and in the morning when the boys were getting strapped for the game, I spoke to the team doctor again.
I’d now finished two courses of antibiotics and the lump was still there, though I was still in no discomfort. The team doctor said that once we got back from Exeter, he’d refer me to a consultant. I captained the team that day – unfortunately to a loss – and was still not overly concerned about this lump that stubbornly wouldn’t go away.
The appointment with the consultant took place early the following week, prior to the Toulon game.
The consultant was Richard Coulthard and I met him at the Spire Hospital in Cardiff. After a thorough examination, I was referred for a CT scan.
During the consultation, Richard told me that he wasn’t excluding any possibilities about what the lump was, but we needed to find out what it was. I was told that regardless of the scan’s findings, I needed an operation to remove the testicle, in a procedure called an orchiectomy.
Still not massively concerned, Matthew confided in Blues director of rugby Phil Davies, saying he intended to carry on playing and have the operation during the November international period, a slot in the calendar that would be quieter for the region. But that plan, as well as his life and his family’s lives, was soon turned on its head.
At 5.30pm on Friday, October 18, 2013, Richard called to break the news that he was pretty sure it was cancer and that it had spread into a lymph node in my stomach.
He said I needed a biopsy as soon as possible, from which we’d know for certain what it was. The first thought I had in my head was, was I going to die? Then I thought about my family: how would they cope? And also my rugby career being over. I just couldn’t believe it – cancer? I was too young, surely? Shortly after I took the call from Richard, Becky came home.
I broke the news to her and we both broke down. I had the operation to remove one of my testicles on October 24 and then had to wait two weeks for the biopsy results. It felt like two months waiting to find out what the outcome was.
Becky and I travelled to the Spire Hospital on November 7 to receive the news from Richard, really apprehensive about the outcome of the biopsy. We were told it was indeed testicular cancer, but that we’d caught the cancer early.
Richard was trying to be as positive as possible, but in reality the only word I heard coming out of his mouth was ‘cancer.’
I’d be undergoing chemotherapy to try to overcome this disease, and I’d be a patient at Velindre Hospital in Whitchurch, Cardiff.
When I first got there, I couldn’t believe what it was like in the waiting room waiting to be called; it was like a cattle market.
There were all these people in one public area, waiting for their names to be called to be seen. I’d been expecting the process to be far more private.
When I was called, I was taken into a room where what was going to happen was explained, blood tests were taken and the consultant gave me a leaflet about chemo and side effects such as hair loss. I lost my cool with the consultant, as I was adamant I wasn’t going to lose my hair – Becky tried to calm me down, but losing my hair really touched a nerve with me.
Velindre were superb. I had a room to myself throughout my stay, which I really appreciated as I’m a very private person.
That first day I was really ill after the chemo. After a few days, though, once the medical staff had adapted the anti-sickness medication to fit my needs, the sickness initially wore off.
I remember in the early days of the treatment saying to one of my nurses, ‘This chemo isn’t so bad.’ She just gave me a look as if to say, ‘There’s worse to come’, and of course she was right.
On Christmas Day 2013 I was having chemo, which changed my Christmas routine. I went in for chemo early so I could have Christmas dinner at home with the family, and I remember vividly that over the new year I was really ill.
I was bedridden for a few days – those were probably the worst days of treatment I had. But I was determined to get through it and beat this. I couldn’t leave my wife and daughter on their own in this world without me by their side. I was going to be a survivor of cancer.
In January 2014 after those initial bad days, I started to feel a lot better, and test results were bringing back some really positive results.
My red and white blood cell markers were greatly improved and shortly afterwards I was given the news I’d longed to hear: I was given the all-clear.
Before Matthew became famous for rugby, his life was not straightforward. In the book he reveals emotional details about his family and upbringing that, until now, have only been known by those closest to him. He explains ....
I was brought up by my mum as a single parent with support from close family members. My dad, Paul, wasn’t a big part of my childhood with only infrequent visits – once a week, on Wednesdays – and cards and money for events such as birthdays and Christmas. However, the true story behind my family life only came out much later.
I discovered in my teens that Paul wasn’t in fact my dad, and only found out who my biological father was when I was 20 and playing for Pontypridd. For anyone, something like that’s a huge shock and a real lifechanger.
Before I came along, my mum was married to Paul, who comes from Cardiff. They had two children but split up a few years later and my mum moved to Tonyrefail with my sister Lisa and my brother Martin to be closer to her family, who lived in the area. I can remember in my
I couldn’t leave my wife and daughter on their own in this world without me by their side. I was going to be a survivor of cancer
- Matthew Rees
early childhood spending some time with Paul, but around the age of 8 or 9 these visits stopped and my only contact was by birthday/ Christmas cards signed ‘To Matthew. Lots of love, Dad.’
When I reached the age of 13, birthday cards from my dad stopped, which I found very strange.
When I quizzed my mum, she just said he could be forgetful with dates, which for a young lad made little sense, but I just accepted it.
As years passed and I was getting older and more confident in my own mind and about what I wanted, and with things not being great at home with my mum, I decided I was going to speak to this man called Paul Rees who I still believed was my dad, and get some questions answered.
I managed to get his number and phoned him. I just wanted to have a relationship with him so asked to meet up, not just because he was my dad but also due to the fact that my relationship with my mum was so poor at the time. His response was one I’ll never forget, as he calmly told me over the phone in a very matter-of-fact manner that he wasn’t my dad, and that for more information I should speak to my grandparents. To say I was stunned is an understatement.
I did as Paul suggested and spoke to my grandparents, who said, ‘Go and speak to your mum.’ When I spoke to Mum and told her I now knew that Paul wasn’t my dad, she wouldn’t tell me who it was. I was so angry that night that I stayed at my uncle and auntie’s house. My uncle and auntie also knew the truth but they, like my grandparents, felt that news of this magnitude should come from her.
Eventually my uncle cracked and finally confessed that he believed my dad was a man called Ken who owned a TV shop in the village, and said that I should speak to my mum again to get this confirmed.
Finally, my mum gave me the information I’d wanted to hear for so many years: my dad was indeed a man who’d lived in the village all the time, and my uncle was correct.
Ken had owned the TV shop for as long as I can remember, and the remarkable thing is that I’d walked past that shop every day on my way to and from school, and for all those years inside that shop was my dad! The day I met up with my dad, I was a nervous wreck. We met at his house, where he lived alone (and still does), and he gave me more of the story that I was desperate to know.
One conclusion I’ve come to is that if I’d known earlier who my real dad was, I’d have changed my surname. The name Rees doesn’t mean a great deal to me, as it isn’t who I am. I’m carrying the surname on, as are Becky and Brooke, but it all feels a bit absurd.
Matthew Rees: Reasons to Smile is available from www.ylolfa.com for £9.99.
I remember in the early days of the treatment saying to one of my nurses, ‘This chemo isn’t so bad.’ She just gave me a look as if to say, ‘There’s worse to come’, and of course she was right