This piece is a little bit self-indulgent. I am not sure indulgent is the right word, but it’s about me, so maybe it is? The reader who cut out and sent in the 10-15 photos of me in one issue a few years ago, saying there were too many, will have a field day. LOL! But here goes anyway. I’ve written this as it may help others who may be facing their own health challenges.
Back in 2020, life was good. Apart from the challenges of Covid (for everyone), I was on top of the world. A happy marriage, great family, I had just become a grandfather, a successful business, was serving as the elected chair of the local board, 58 years old – things were going well.
For many years, I’d been having urinary problems. All the checks and tests had shown no problem, but it wasn’t going away. My urologist suggested a CT scan, something that hadn’t been done previously.
I had the CT scan, and my bladder was all good. But what was not good was a suspected recurrent melanoma they believed they had found in my groin. Not related at all to my urinary complaint, but serious. When you’ve got melanoma inside your body, it’s not good. I had stage three cancer.
My perfect life had just fallen apart. I fell apart. This article is not about my medical situation, but more about the psychological challenges I have faced since late 2020.
I am not 100% sure, but I am almost certain that what I have experienced psychologically along this cancer journey is experienced by most. In sharing this, I hope to achieve a few things. To share my story with family, friends and others in my life. To share my story to help others who may be going through the same thing. To share my story to help others who may have someone close to them going through it.
Suddenly, I was not ten feet tall and bulletproof, as I thought I was.
The immediate task was to share the news with family, friends and those in my life who needed to know. That’s a very emotional time. Particularly hard for someone like me who is not that good at sharing emotions. Crying uncontrollably in front of family members was a totally new experience. Ever since that period in late 2020, I cry (still mostly privately) at just about anything that gets my emotions, happy or sad.
For the first time in my life, I was psychologically very challenged. In ways I never thought possible.
For most of my life, I have been a leader. At school, I was academically very average but loved sport. In most sports teams I was involved in, I captained or was one of the leaders. I started our business, Benefitz, 37 years ago and have led the business strongly all the way through. I have played a leadership role in the North Harbour Club and Charitable Trust, I chair other organisations, and I also chaired the Devonport Takapuna Local Board. I never had any doubts about my ability to lead.
As a result of the psychological challenge related to my health over the past five years, I have lost a great deal of that confidence. While most will not have seen this, as I have battled on like we are inclined to do, the loss of confidence has been an experience I never thought I would ever encounter. It is hard to understand why. It has been like all the confidence that I had previously never ever second-guessed has disappeared down a big black hole.
This loss of confidence clearly comes hand in hand with no longer feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof. I was suddenly very vulnerable and was faced with something I couldn’t control. I feel sure this is something that comes slower with the normal ageing process as well, but for me, this hit me right between the eyes because of the cancer diagnosis. Suddenly, I was forced to cope with the reality that I might not be around to see my grandchildren grow and thrive.
Every three months (initially), then six months (more recently), and now annually, I have CT scans to check whether I am clear of melanoma. That process of being scanned and then waiting for the results from the oncologist in the days that follow is mentally very challenging; very lonely with lots of anxiety, private sadness and tears.
The psychological challenge is not something I have talked at length about with anyone. I have made my wife, Michelle aware of it, I also confided in one of my daughters, but most people in my life would not have known of the very personal struggle I have faced since late 2020. At times, you do feel alone.
I am aware that people in my life will have sensed a change. The drop in overall personal confidence I have experienced affects just about every aspect of life: family, friendships and business. To those who have been affected in any way, I apologise. Many will not have realised, as I have done my best to box on and hide this away.
Healthwise, things are now pretty good. It appears I am one of the lucky ones, but I know I will never stop thinking about the chance of cancer returning. It’s constantly on my mind. That’s the cancer journey.
I had the melanoma removed from my groin (along with 11 lymph nodes) in late 2020 and then had 12 months of an immunotherapy drug called Keytruda. Keytruda and immunotherapy treatments have been called a wonder drug in the fight against some cancers. For me, it’s been a very expensive (non-funded) ‘insurance policy’ against melanoma returning. That treatment was followed by regular CT scans. Four and a half years on, my oncologist says he’s losing interest in me, which I take to be a good thing!
I live with side effects from the treatment and the loss of lymph nodes. These side effects can be challenging and mean I can’t do some things I used to do. This has added to my loss of confidence and psychological challenge.
All-in-all, I have been lucky so far – touch wood! Melanoma hasn’t returned, and I am starting to see some light at the end of the dark tunnel.
My big bit of advice for those faced with a cancer diagnosis is very simple. Get psychological help early. I considered myself mentally strong, but I needed help. I got that by seeking the help of a psychologist attached to the Harbour Cancer Centre’s wellness programme. Having someone independent to talk to was very helpful, but I should have done that earlier. That’s my advice. Seek the help of a psychologist early. Be proactive.
For close family and friends of someone going through a cancer journey, my advice is to talk to them (check in on them regularly) about the psychological challenge. It’s a challenging chat for all, but (in my experience) very important. Encourage them to seek professional help early, even as a preventative measure.
I hope sharing my story has been helpful. While I’ll always be on this journey, life for me is still pretty good. And our fourth grandchild was born in late May, and Otto turns five this month!
Aidan Bennett is publisher of Channel Magazine and founder of Benefitz, a local North Shore communication and print manufacturing business.
