I’ve always been someone that’s very outgoing, is passionate about fitness and loves travelling and making memories with my wife, family and friends. I work as a Targeted Youth worker supporting young people with specific needs and help them overcome challenges and move toward a healthier, more positive future. I’m not afraid to admit that I’m also a man obsessed with his dog, a cockapoo called Sulley and am often out walking him trying to burn off some of his ever-lasting craziness. Before my lymphoma diagnosis, I guess you could say I was your typical person that thought they were invincible.
Back in August 2023, I found some unusual lumps on the head of my penis. I initially went to a sexual health clinic who, after assessment, were not confident as to what these lumps were. They thought maybe they were just raised glands and told me to monitor them over the next couple of weeks and apply a cream in the hope they would clear. I was also regularly experiencing severe migraines that were so bad I couldn’t leave my bed, was being sick and even the slightest bit of light felt painful. I remember having to literally wear sunglasses in bed just to reduce brightness. I was exhausted all the time for no reason, and worried that I was going to feel this way forever. I went to the GP and they thought that maybe with a wedding fast approaching and having started a new job, I was probably experiencing extreme side effects from stress. But I knew there was more to it and couldn’t wait the couple of weeks that the sexual health team had suggested. I went back only a few days later, explained my concerns and that this was urgent. I was then referred to a urologist.
Because of the location of the lumps, I was told that I was being screened for penile cancer although reassured this was very unlikely due to my age, as I was 31 at the time. I went on to have multiple tests and a biopsy. A couple of weeks later, I got my test results and my doctor said “I told you it wouldn’t be penile cancer, however, you do have a form of blood cancer”.
Instead of breaking down in tears, I was in complete shock. I didn’t know how to feel, and I froze. I’d never really been around cancer and had a total lack of understanding around all the different cancers and treatment plans. I felt a new level of panic unlock. I probably should have asked, what will happen now? Or what stage is my cancer? Instead, I didn’t ask any questions that may have been useful because all I could think about was, am I going to die? and what impact does this have on my wife and family? I felt like I’d let everyone down.
I’ve never had the best memory but something you don’t forget is the moment you hear the words “you have cancer”. I was given my full diagnosis of stage 4 diffuse large B-cell lymphoma and was told treatment would start the following week. I couldn’t believe how fast it was all happening.
I appreciate there is never a good time to receive a cancer diagnosis but to make an already difficult situation even more challenging, it was two days before my now wife’s birthday and roughly five weeks before our wedding. I made jokes that at least it got me out of having to do a speech, when inside I was hurting. I felt like I’d ruined one of the most special days for the person I cared about most. We were able to still get married with immediate family present but were advised to rearrange the big wedding due to the fact I had started treatment and had a compromised immune system. “That’s okay we can have the big day to celebrate next year” we thought, having no idea of further surprises we would have to face.
I went on to have six rounds of R-CHOP, a chemotherapy regimen that was given every three weeks over a six-month period. I was an inpatient for the first round to observe any potential reactions to the treatment and minimise risk and the further five rounds were received as an outpatient. I went onto have two rounds of Methotrexate and my treatment was successful; I was in remission.
After six months of adjusting and slowly getting back to normality, I somehow came across the smallest of lumps located on my trapezius, which I tried to convince myself it was a muscle knot, and exercise related. I brought this up in a follow up appointment with my consultant who suggested it was best to carry further screening given my history. I went on to have more ultrasounds, PET/CT and MRI scans and another biopsy. The results confirmed that my cancer had returned, a few weeks prior to our big wedding that had been rescheduled previously. Once again, we had to postpone our celebration indefinitely.
I was told I needed more chemotherapy, and that I would go on to receive CAR-T cell therapy. I felt my anxiety heighten again as I had never heard of this type of treatment before. Although it did put me back into remission, unfortunately it was short-lived and I found out that I had relapsed again during a routine scan a few months later. You hope like ‘most things’ the more you expose yourself to a challenging situation the more resilient and stronger your armour becomes. Unfortunately, on this occasion it didn’t work like that, and the fear only got heavier. I started to wonder whether I was running out of options, and whether the end was closer than I thought.
It was agreed that an allogeneic stem cell transplant would give me the best chance of staying cancer free, but first I needed to get back into remission. I went on to have bispecific antibody therapy which was successful and allowed me to have my stem cell transplant in September 2025, the day after our second wedding anniversary.
My treatment plan was intensive and as a result the physical and mental effects were challenging. The main side effects I experienced were brain fog, fatigue, diarrhoea, nausea, hair loss, muscle and joint soreness. Cancer is more than a physical battle; it challenges your mental and emotional limits like nothing you could have imagined. There were moments where I felt overwhelmed by anxiety and uncertain about the future. Then there were moments where I lay in my bed experiencing numbness, whilst staring at the walls, feeling so wiped out that I literally couldn’t feel anything.
The period after treatment ended was also mentally challenging. I found that during treatment my thoughts became a lot lighter because I went into survival mode and my focus was on treatment, listening to advice from the medical team, sleeping, and simply getting better. It was after when my thoughts became overwhelming and I can only assume this is because it was when I was able to process everything I had been through.
I recently went for my routine check-up and for the first time since my initial diagnosis, I have reached the six month milestone with a clear scan. At one point, I was really doubting as to whether it was something I’d ever hear. I am currently receiving top up infusions of donor cells every six to eight weeks following my stem cell transplant, with further PET CT scans planned at the nine and twelve month marks as part of my ongoing monitoring.
Something this journey has taught me is that we know our bodies better than we realise. I knew something wasn’t right, but I never thought it was cancer. Although I would never want to go through this again, I am no longer angry towards my cancer diagnosis and am now grateful for the perspective on life that it has given me. I struggled for many years and would always put pressure on myself and expect more from life. After the hardship and chaos of cancer, I’m aware of how lucky I am for the life I live today and for what I have around me. It has also given me beautiful moments with family and friends that I may not have ever experienced if I did not become unwell.
I hope that the perspective, strength, and lessons I have gained through my own experience can be used to support and encourage others navigating a similar journey. After everything I have been through, and with the amazing support I have received, I wish to give back and assure others going through a cancer diagnosis that they are not alone. To anyone in a similar situation, remember there is a community beside you, offering hope and encouragement for the journey ahead. You will learn that you have a strength inside you that you never knew was there.