Early in December - strangely, around what would have been my dad's birthday - after responding to a direct message on Twitter, I had an email from Pancreatic Cancer UK. ‘How would you feel,’ I was asked, ‘about getting your CanCan on for pancreatic cancer awareness?’ Pretty silly, I guess, was my initial reaction, but pancreatic cancer is the fifth leading cause of all UK cancer deaths and survival rates have not improved in forty years - and I had a personal reason to get involved.
Pancreatic cancer is known as the ‘silent’ killer because many of its symptoms reflect less serious illnesses meaning that by the time diagnosis is confirmed it’s often too late – which is what happened to my dad. Dad was troubled by the kind of vague back pain and general malaise most people dismiss as a virus and Dad – who once performed an eye-watering operation on himself with a Stanley knife - certainly wouldn’t have consulted a doctor about a ‘bug’.
The day came, however, when Dad was faced with symptoms he couldn’t ignore; jaundice so severe that even the whites of his eyes were yellow, itching, stomach problems and so on. Soon we knew the worst. And by this stage, despite the very best efforts of the consultants and surgeons at the Royal Marsden, the disease was too far advanced to save him.
One of Dad’s most endearing qualities was that he smiled readily and could see the humour in the bleakest situation. This, and his amazing capacity to endure physical pain, were characteristics which bore him through his final illness. He never complained or felt sorry for himself. In sickness and in health he was genuinely amazed and grateful for any kindness and help given to him. And we miss him every day.
Pancreatic cancer is known as the ‘silent’ killer because many of its symptoms reflect less serious illnesses meaning that by the time diagnosis is confirmed it’s often too late – which is what happened to my dad. Dad was troubled by the kind of vague back pain and general malaise most people dismiss as a virus and Dad – who once performed an eye-watering operation on himself with a Stanley knife - certainly wouldn’t have consulted a doctor about a ‘bug’.
The day came, however, when Dad was faced with symptoms he couldn’t ignore; jaundice so severe that even the whites of his eyes were yellow, itching, stomach problems and so on. Soon we knew the worst. And by this stage, despite the very best efforts of the consultants and surgeons at the Royal Marsden, the disease was too far advanced to save him.
One of Dad’s most endearing qualities was that he smiled readily and could see the humour in the bleakest situation. This, and his amazing capacity to endure physical pain, were characteristics which bore him through his final illness. He never complained or felt sorry for himself. In sickness and in health he was genuinely amazed and grateful for any kindness and help given to him. And we miss him every day.
So, I decided, if a few minutes squirming with embarrassment doing the cancan on the beach – to the amazement of several dogwalkers – could help at all in Pancreatic Cancer UK’s campaign to raise awareness of this disease and improve survival rates, I’d willingly take part. All the cancan clips were stitched together to make one brilliant campaign video. To view it and also find out more about how you can keep the conversation about pancreatic cancer going, please click #CanCan4PanCan
You can spot me, if you don't blink, at about 41 seconds! (And this is what I had to do first on a public beach!)
Comments
I admire you for doing the can-can,maybe a new career awaits you in Chorus Line.
Terribly sorry about your Dad. I'll R/T and whatever, wherever I can. xx
Thank you, Margaret - I think he would have had a good laugh at it!
Margaret (K)- it's awful that the diagnosis comes too late for so many people. Let's hope this campaign helps to improve those survival rate. A Chorus Line - Dad always said I sounded like a baby elephant going up and down stairs! And thank you xx
He was one of a kind to me, Mandy, but I'm probably biased. ;) xx
Thank you, Sue and for sharing. x
Aw, Pondside - thank you m'dear. It took a bit of doing! (Sorry not to have been round lately - it's been an utterly manic start to the year!)
I was very struck by how much you do look like your Dad, and was so moved by learning more about him.
xo
I don't think you look silly at all. Somethings are above human dignity and if this helps shed light on the problem I'm all for it. You did a wonderful job. I love your tutu by the way, very elegant and a nice touch. :)
Thank you, Frances - I'm touched. x
Chanpreet, sorry to hear about your grandfather and how little time you had with him. It would be marvellous if pancreatic disease could be detected at an earlier stage. Hopefully medical advances will increase survival rates. I felt silly in that 'tutu' - a net petticoat, but it got me in the mood!
Thank you, Cara - I think what's so strange in my clip (apart from me) is that there's no sound - I had to dance to a soundtrack in my head! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Thank you, Sue!