Excuse me Mr Tom, but the CT scan has captured something a bit worrying. Kindly move closer you have a look,” with that statement, Dr Alex at the Aga Khan University Hospital kicked off a dramatic two-month rollercoaster ride for me.
It was a ride that saw my emotions go full cycle — from a high to a low and plummeting to below zero levels as more scans, more visits to doctors, prayers and all sorts of things took centre stage in my life.
I inched closer to the monitor and Dr Alex showed me an image of the scan I had done earlier in the day. It showed something in the stomach and although he was trying his best to be diplomatic, I could see that the young man was deeply concerned with what his machine was telling him. I fully appreciated his worry because, after all, it is only a certified sadist who would wear a happy face while telling his patient that he needs to go for further tests to rule out if the ‘thing’ captured in the scan was cancerous.
I had just taken to liking the young doctor, for the professional manner he was handling me and ‘my’ new disease. Dressed quite casually and with an easy welcoming manner, Alex looked more like the young man in the estate you would quickly sit with at the local shopping centre over a sundowner discussing football and the Azimio demonstrations .
Soon Alex was joined by his equally youthful and thoroughly professional colleagues — Dr Emmanuel, Kinoti and the only lady in the team, Obare. They were unanimous in assuring me that although cancer was being suspected, it would only take the opinion of a senior consultant to make the final call.
“Mr Tom, we are not saying you have cancer but what we have seen is a cause for concern so we will have the consultant see you and recommend the way forward,” Dr Obare told me. All this time I was as cool as the proverbial cucumber and Obare looked at me in a manner likely to suggest that I was either not understanding what was at stake or maybe I was just in shock.
In response, I told her: “You see doc where we are at the moment is that the machine has captured this worrisome image. So the fact is, I either have cancer or I don’t have cancer. Moping and pulling out my hair wouldn’t change a thing and right now I am readying myself to face what the future will bring.”
“I like your attitude, Mr Tom,” she told me as she left the room. What the team of medics did not know was that right after getting the news from their colleague Alex, I immediately texted a good pal and a person who had prayed with me over the years, Ann Njoki. I asked her to embark on prayers. She promptly texted back saying she was praying for me.
Now there is this verse, Philippians 4:6, “The Lord is Near! Do not be anxious about anything. Instead, in every situation with prayer and petition with thanksgiving, tell your requests to God. And the peace that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
For many years I have read and reread it and even memorised this verse. However, on this day it came alive to me. Even as the doctors gave their well-reasoned opinion, I had around me this inexplicable peace that left me watching everything with a calm I could not understand. It is indeed true that God can grant us peace that we can never understand with our limited human knowledge however dire the situation we find ourselves in.
The journey to this day had started about two years prior. I used to have some very sharp pains in the stomach which would get worse whenever I was hungry. To salve the hunger pangs I would get something to eat but immediately after the morsel hits the stomach I would double up in more pain. A classic case of damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
I visited a hospital in the city in September and the doctor ordered an ultrasound which showed the presence of kidney stones. He put me on treatment but suggested further tests. Come December and the pains were too much, and on January 14 I drove myself to Aga Khan and the beginning of a new journey.
And so on this day and after the initial results, the team took me to a room at the casualty where they continued monitoring my vitals. They then suggested another CT scan, drew a blood sample for more tests and booked for me an appointment with Dr Karan.
As I lay there many thoughts were crossing my mind, a prominent one being the big question, “Is this the beginning of the end?”
The mind is a powerful thing and as I lay there, there came moments when I would remember all the people I knew who had died from cancer. Then I will myself think of all the people I know who had battled the monster and lived to tell the story. Former journalist Felix Masi took us through his cancer journey until he was cleared of it. Another journalist Mildred Ngesa has also been keeping her friends updated as she kept on winning against the disease.
My friend Levi Kones also battled it and went ahead to capture the fight in his book There is No Useless Experience. It is interesting the things one thinks about when faced with their own mortality. As the year was beginning I had plans, very big plans, of the things I wanted to do before 2023 comes to a close. A planned trip to Maputo to train my colleagues on media management. A reporting trip to Bogota and Medellin in Colombia. Applications for higher grade jobs to advance my career.
A thousand and one things. However, as I lay there on that bed, all these thoughts paled in comparison to my one and only need: that I win the fight, if it came to that. I was mentally preparing a plan for the battle against cancer that was soon going to be firmly and surely joined. Then the thoughts of what might have caused cancer: is it the food I have been eating, the air, the lifestyle? It went on and on and I came out with nothing.
Dr Obare went ahead to look for the hepatobiliary surgeon (now this is the guy who deals with internal organs. Amid the storm, I learnt a new word). It happened that the expert, Dr Karan Gandhi, had travelled out of the country but would be jetting back the following day, Sunday.
I got an appointment for the following Thursday. In the meanwhile, I started devouring every item I came across about cancer. I read the story of a lady from Kakamega who after going through many wrong diagnoses was finally found to have cancer. The medics advised her to have her eggs harvested and stored because the treatment could damage them. She refused, underwent successful treatment and later bore triplets.
Then there was the curious case of American evangelist George Verwer who is battling Sarcoma cancer. In a message to his friends, the man of God asked them not to pray for his total healing but for the fortitude to face the disease to the end.
Around the same time a long-serving New Zealander missionary Robin Aim, who has been serving in my church for a long time, also got diagnosed with cancer. One Sunday prayer was said for him. After the service, I shared with him my story and his wife Margaret prayed for me.
Come the following Thursday and I met with Dr Karan. His words were probably the best I have ever heard in my life: “Tom I have checked the images and I doubt if it is cancer you are having. However, since it has been suspected, let us do one more CT scan with contrast which will give us the best picture.”
So back I went to the radiology department and did another scan. It was after this that Dr Karan referred me to another specialist, Prof Elly Ogutu, at the Nairobi Hospital. I got admitted and did several more tests.
The next day the good professor came to my room and declared: “Tom you are cancer free!” To say that I was elated would be the greatest understatement of the year. As I sat on my bed I wiped a tear and thanked God for the second chance. I also remembered to pray for those whose results might have gone the other way.
As the professor finished, I asked him what could have been the problem. “I suspect it was an inflammation in the pancreas which appeared cancerous in the first test,” he said. As he closed the door, I muttered under my breath, “It was the prayers, prof, the prayers.”
I have since learnt to be thankful for each morning I wake, I breathe in my surroundings with more intensity and enjoy simple things more. For example, driving on the Nairobi Expressway as the sun sets over Ngong Hills has become one of my favourite pastimes.
I am also grateful to the doctors at Aga Khan who first raised the alarm. If you look at it against the statistics that 70 per cent of cancer cases in Kenya are diagnosed at advanced stages, then you would appreciate the fact that these medics chose to go all the hog at the first suspicion.
