Wow! What a year 2022 was

A  special blog for Kidney Cancer Awareness Week 2023 by Karen Farrant

Hi, my name is Karen Farrant, I am 55 years of age and live in Kent. I’ve been happily married for 34 years, with three grown-up children and two grandchildren. We lead a busy life, both working full time, socialising, going on holidays and walking the dog.

I have kidney cancer and I’m writing this blog in the hope that it might make just one person seek help or push their GP for a scan.

Karen & husband Mark

Okay, so let’s start at the beginning; 4am on Tuesday 12th July 2022 when I woke up, went to the loo, and saw nothing but bright red blood in the toilet. I went back to bed, lay in bed for half an hour and realised I had a dull pain in my side which prompted me to get up and take some painkillers.

Following a bit of online research, I went on to the 111 website – I know, I know don’t judge me! The online form advised that a doctor would call me within a couple of hours and when he did call, he told me to go to A&E as it sounded like I had kidney stones and my GP wouldn’t be able to help. So, off to A&E I trotted, arriving at 7.30am. I was advised it would be at least a seven-hour wait but decided to stay – and boy, oh boy, am I glad I did.

Following a quick wee sample in triage, which was now dark purple, I was sent straight through to see a doctor who thought 111 were correct and it was kidney stones. My blood tests were all okay and I’d need a scan to see what was going on before deciding on treatment. One hospital sandwich and a scan later, I was waiting in a room for someone to come and talk to me.

I sent the obligatory photo of the tubes in my arm to the family WhatsApp group telling them all I had kidney stones but, when the doctor arrived, he told me there was something wrong with my left kidney. It was abnormal and enlarged and it would need to be removed. He’d refer me to the multidisciplinary team and I’d be hearing from them shortly.

My sister died of breast cancer on 20th July 2020, 20 years after her first diagnosis. The only thought in my head was ‘please don’t make the meeting on the 20th’. Plus, by now all my family were messaging / calling to see how I was – the answer was, I was in pieces. I drove myself home and waited for my husband to get home.

Karen’s sister, Lisa

My appointment arrived and was for 10th August so, I knew it wasn’t cancer as there’s a 14-day cancer pathway so I stopped worrying about cancer. By now my wee was normal again and I had no more pain. Probably just a cyst, I thought.

Fast forward to 10th August and following an agonising two-hour delay, I had my appointment. As soon as we walked into the room, I could see the scan on the screen and it was obvious what was going on – a very large tumour on my left kidney which I’d probably had for over ten years – wtf! Surgery would be within 10-28 days and I had a left kidney radical nephrectomy via Robot Assisted Surgery (RAS) on Saturday 3rd September.

It was 21 days before I got the surgery date with just four-days’ notice. a barrage of appointments and tests and an overwhelming rush of dark and black emotions, especially in the early hours of the morning. Everything was out of my control, and I was careering in a downwards spiral. Despite the speed everything was moving it actually felt painfully slow. I just wanted this invader out of my body as quickly as possible; it had already had a free ride for ten-years.

The day of the surgery was surreal. I’d been told I had a 1 in 100 chance of dying on the table, my own internet research (again, don’t judge me!) unearthed a huge UK patient survey which said chances of dying at the weekend doubled. That’s 1 in 50 – how was my husband going to break it to my mum that another daughter had died? I planned my funeral, guest lists, songs, a few words for everyone and emailed it to my daughter to keep safe just in case.

The feelings of helplessness, guilt for putting everyone through this and fear of dying were immense. Not to mention that my daughter was getting married on 8th October – 5 weeks away – and I was meant to be taking my parents on their first holiday since my sister died on the day of my surgery. When they came to collect me and said ‘say your goodbyes’ both my husband and I were in pieces.

The estimated two-to-three-hour surgery ended up being five and a half hours and everyone thought I had died on the table. My husband had even started to think he might be able to get the coffee machine I’d never let him have (lol)!! Fortunately, I knew nothing about this. I did ask the surgical team for a photo of the thing trying to kill me and when I came round from surgery there it was in full glorious colour, fairly life size and nearly filling an A4 sheet of paper.

No one can tell you what it’s like after surgery, but it’s painful, emotional, exhausting, draining, uncomfortable, you worry about what your prognosis will be and, did they get it all out. The sleepless nights despite the exhaustion, the elation at being alive, the guilt for asking people to help me, and the worry about every single twinge you feel. Every single emotion rained down on me.

However, I got through it, and I even made it to my daughters Hen Do in London, just four weeks after surgery. I walked every day. At first, I could only make it to the end of the road but now I’m back to my usual dog walks albeit a bit slower. My advice is do what you’re told to do, take it easy, sleep when you need to and every time you think you should be doing a bit better have a look at the four small scars and one 17cm long scar and tell yourself; you’ve just had major, lifesaving surgery (I’d also go and have a look at the photo of the tumour we had pinned on the fridge door!). But most important: BE KIND TO YOURSELF.

This was my journey following surgery:

• 12-days after surgery I had all 36 staples removed
• 24-days after surgery I practiced turning the car around on the drive, could manage it without pain and was now able to drive myself around
• Five weeks after surgery and my daughter’s wedding was wonderful – I lasted the whole day and night (a 4.30am start through to a golf buggy ride back to our room at 1.30 the next morning)
• Five weeks and 2-days after surgery, I had a telephone consultation with my surgeon which was nothing but good news. The cancer hasn’t spread and is a Grade 1, Stage 2 cancer, negative margins so, not that aggressive. It’s Stage 2 because it’s so huge – in fact the largest tumour the hospital group have ever removed at 17cm x 9cm x 9cm and one of their most challenging surgeries
• Five weeks and 3 days after surgery I returned to work on a phased basis – half-days for four-weeks. Fortunately, I work from home so only go in the office once or sometimes twice a week
• Six-weeks after and my parents, my husband and I made it; we went off on holiday
• Nine-weeks after surgery and I’m back to work full time
• Eleven-weeks after surgery I started having counselling sessions with Kidney Cancer UK to help me come to terms with everything that’s happened since July2022. I have struggled to understand how I can go from being completely well and ‘healthy’ to someone with cancer. Not even a little lump but a huge, huge tumour. I look back on photos from holidays and family events and that tumour is in them all – I really struggled to get my head around that but with my Kidney Cancer UK counsellor’s help it’s getting better
• Thirteen-weeks after surgery I was completely exhausted. Fearing I’d done too much too soon I had blood tests which identified I had a very low vitamin D level – quite common this time of year and worse with sick kidneys.
• Work continues to be fantastic, and I when I go into the office I leave before it’s too late so that I’m not driving home in the dark to help with the exhaustion
• Seventeen-weeks after surgery I celebrated Christmas and New Year with my family. I’m not one for New Year resolutions etc but we are
  

  Karen Farrant with Mum & Dad

  hoping that 2023 is the year we move on from this.

I can’t emphasis enough how wonderful everyone is when you’re going through this – from my entire family, my employer, my children’s employers who all supported them with time off, holiday companies, friends, my GP, hospital staff, district nurses and total strangers. One of my daughter’s came back from Glasgow to Kent and worked from home to look after me at her company’s suggestion. The other daughter came along to all my appointments with her company’s blessing.

I work for Arun Estates as an administrator and have been with them for about seven years now. The support of my direct manager Claire, and my employer has made such a difference to my recovery. There has been no rush to return to work, they’ve bent over backwards to do whatever works for me – which was a phased return, a couple of delayed holidays and regular check-ins to see how I’m doing.It’s been a rollercoaster of a ride at breakneck speed and I’m still hurtling around on it but with the help of my Kidney Cancer UK counsellor I am starting to feel more positive about the future. I have my first follow up with my consultant on 1st February (scans and bloods in Jan) and fingers crossed this will be as positive as the prognosis following surgery and then myself and my family can start to live life to the full again.

Please, please if you experience a single kidney cancer symptom, no matter how minor, please ask your GP to refer you for a scan. I was lucky, very lucky.

• My wee colour was back to normal in two-days – If I’d not contacted 111…..
  • I wouldn’t be so lucky
• If I’d called my GP for antibiotics / blood tests…..
  • I wouldn’t be so lucky
• If I’d walked away from that seven hour wait in A&E…..
  • I wouldn’t be so lucky
• If I’d not bothered with the 10th August appointment as ‘I knew it wasn’t cancer‘…..
  • I wouldn’t be so lucky

If you see any symptoms like mine, get checked; make luck.

Karen Farrant