I’ll never forget the day I received the call from my dental specialist. I had been experiencing pain in my jaw and neck, which I thought was nerve-related. Instead, I was told it was a malignant tumour. I was stunned. To make matters worse, I was at a family party when I heard the news and struggled to process what it meant. 

At my follow-up appointment, the specialist confirmed not only was it cancer, but it had spread, and was now stage 4. My wife and I walked out of the clinic in shock, breaking down in tears. I hadn’t cried in 35 years, but that day the tears just came. Looking back, I urge health professionals to carefully consider the language they use when delivering such life-changing news. In that moment, all I heard was the worst case scenario. Stage 4. To me, it meant I was going to die soon and that thought stayed with me until I met my oncologist. 

Hope is the single most important thing a 

cancer patient can have 

One of the first things she said was that staging was “old school” and she preferred not to use that terminology. She spoke instead about treatment options, about what we could do, and about the future. Most importantly, she gave me hope. And I’ve come to believe that hope is the single most important thing a cancer patient can have. 

I have a wife and three adult daughters, and we are an extraordinarily close family. Telling my daughters was the hardest thing I have ever done. My wife and I agonised over how to minimise the impact, but in the end, there was no way to soften it. When we told them, it was devastating for us all. 

It’s been a rollercoaster 

The past two years have been a rollercoaster, but I’ve been fortunate to take part in Linear clinical trials. 

Hope is at the heart of it, and clinical trials gave me exactly that. The service and care I’ve received have been incredible, and the regular monitoring has been a constant reassurance along the way. 

So far, I’ve had two rounds of radiation, one chemotherapy, and three clinical trials. The hardest part hasn’t been the treatments themselves, but seeing the toll my illness has taken on my wife and daughters. 

As for the best part, that’s hard to define, but the hope I’ve held on to has been invaluable. 

Being accepted felt like 

an immense privilege 

Before this, I had a basic understanding of clinical 

trials from my career in the university sector, but 

being accepted into one felt like an immense 

privilege. If someone asked me about trials, I’d tell 

them to see it the same way, a privilege that 

could be life-saving. Yes, it requires time and 

commitment, but the benefits are profound, and 

there’s also the reduced financial burden, which 

helps families enormously. 

For me and my family, being part of clinical trials 

has meant everything.