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'Mr Kennelly, you have cancer ...'

By Keith Kennelly - posted Thursday, 5 April 2007


I started the radiation after two weeks of chemo and had daily doses.

My initial appointment involved tattooing the target points. The radiation treatment is scary. I was laid on a table, in an isolation room, had the machine lined up and as all the radiation therapists left I was told not to move. I can still hear the giggles of the women as I pointed out that since the machine was targeted at a fraction above my groin it was extremely unlikely I would dare move or even breathe.

The radiation therapists were all quite young and I felt they enjoyed my good humour. I had witnessed during the treatment that the other patients were treated with great dignity and tenderness. I’d still had no side effects and felt well. I behaved as I felt. However the last three radiation treatments did cause substantial tiredness. At the outset I was assigned a nurse. She was an absolute treasure. With her I discussed all aspects of my treatment and it was she who attended my annoying sore spots. I had weekly appointments with my radiation oncologist.

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Up to this point I found the nursing staff, dieticians, therapists, physios, doctors and specialists exceptional people. They were friendly, caring and good humoured. Never once did I feel embarrassed or had any aversion to discussing any aspect of my cancer or its treatment. All contributed in different ways to my overcome my modesty. They undertake a difficult task well.

My only criticism … a few of the administrative staff were inattentive and amateurish. It was at their hands I was left waiting in oncology, on two occasions, once for four hours and once five hours.

I had my appointment with the surgeon. We discussed many things. He described all the options regarding my tumour removal. So much is still quite “up in the air” and much will be decided on the operating table. I know at the end of the day if I come out with a tube from my left side I’ll be having a temporary bag and if on my right … well I’ll never be buying toilet paper again. One of the worst scenarios, after a premature death, is I may lose my reproductive and sexual ability. Although that is apparently no great loss as I’ve often been reassured I was never any good it anyway!

I had my final radiation a week or so ago. They also disconnected my chemo and removed the pic-line. Everyone got a little personal bag of Easter eggs. For the first time I was allowed to wait in the TV lounge. I spoke briefly with a woman whose brother was receiving treatment for throat cancer. During our talk, about literature and sailing, another cancer patient quipped that the more he asked about his cancer, the more he knew and the easier it became to handle the whole situation.

It was a basic truth. I simply agreed and acknowledged the sad look in the eyes of my new friend. During the last eight weeks I'd become pretty self-absorbed but that look stung me with a realisation of how lucky I really was. She had intimated earlier, unbeknown to the other patient, her brother was deaf.

My op is scheduled for May 11, 2007. I’ll be in the public hospital for at least a week, with at least a month for recovery on discharge. And thanks to my surgeon that date allows my son to run my business without disrupting his mid year exam study for exams. Sometimes understanding and a little empathy has great rewards.

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About the Author

Keith Kennelly is a 53-year-old small business operator, resident in Brisbane who raised two childern as a single dad. His hobbies now include swiming, reading, sailing and Texas Hold 'Em poker.

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