Around 700 men each year in the UK are diagnosed with penis. cancerand undergo a partial or total penectomy, where their penis is removed. Craig Mycock54, a former bus driver and inspector, who lives with his partner Colette, 55, in Stockport, tells his story.
At the beginning of 2020, I went to see my GP for problems emptying my bladder and she referred me to hospital for further checks.
A nurse practitioner who examined my bladder (using a thin tube with a camera attached) commented on a pea-sized “freckle” on the head of my penis.
I told her it had been there for about six months and it wasn’t painful or causing any problems, but she seemed concerned and called a doctor to get a second opinion.
She was also concerned and referred me for further investigation. (My bladder problem was unrelated).
Craig, a former bus driver and inspector, tells his story to warn other men about the signs of penile cancer.
Two weeks later I was at Christie Hospital in Manchester, where a consultant urologist explained to me that it could be a sign of penile cancer. Just hearing this was very mortifying and worrying.
They did a biopsy: they injected local anesthetic into the tip of my penis and took a small sample of tissue for analysis. The procedure took about 20 minutes and was as horrible as it sounds.
Two weeks later I returned for the results. They told me it was an aggressive, fast-growing cancer and that they would have to remove part of my penis, leaving enough so they could reconstruct it using tissue from my thigh.
I was absolutely stunned by this terrible news. I remember sitting alone in my car after the appointment trying to take it all in. I cried; It seemed so overwhelming.
When I returned to the hospital for surgery in March, a month after the biopsy, the cancer seemed to have spread: the entire tip of my penis had become scabby and slightly deformed. Deep down I was worried that it had spread.
Because the cancer was so aggressive, it was decided that Craig’s entire penis would need to be removed. Radiotherapy or chemotherapy would not be effective against it
This meant that the planned operation was canceled and I had a second biopsy instead; This showed that the cancer had spread within the shaft, but fortunately it had not affected the lymph nodes in my groin.
Because the cancer was so aggressive, it was decided that my entire penis would need to be removed. Radiotherapy or chemotherapy would not be effective against it.
I was devastated: it is every man’s worst nightmare; The thought of a surgeon cutting off my penis made me want to squirm and I felt dizzy even thinking about it.
I felt embarrassed; I blamed myself, even though I had done nothing to cause it, my consultant said, unfortunately it was one of those things in life that can happen to anyone.
But I was in a dark place, asking myself a million questions about why it had happened to me.
Craig says if his story can help another man avoid what he has been through, he would be absolutely delighted.
I was terrified of the operation as it would change everything from urinating like most men to ending a sexual relationship with Colette, my partner of 33 years.
I felt it would make me less masculine. But Colette always calmed me down; She told me that she still loved me no matter what.
On the day of my operation in May 2020, in full confinement, I had to go to the hospital alone. I was afraid of what it would be like “down there” when I woke up. My entire penis was going to be removed, but my testicles would be left intact (these produce testosterone, and if they are removed, the patient has to undergo hormone replacement therapy: they are only removed if the cancer has spread).
I then woke up with a flexible tube inserted into the area where my penis had been, with a tap on the end, which I could turn on to urinate. It was humiliating and I hated wearing it as it was a constant reminder of what had happened to me.
Otherwise, the area simply felt numb. But I felt incomplete, like my masculinity had been taken away from me. In fact, from that moment on, I don’t interact with that part of my body.
I keep the area clean and wash it, but I don’t look at it or feel around that area; I really can’t stand to look at it, even in a mirror. I have fear only.
Fortunately, they managed to remove the tumor and there were no signs that it had spread.
I was able to go home after two days and about two weeks later I had the tube removed (he now urinates by sitting on the toilet to urinate through an opening between his anus and testicles), but I suffered a serious urinary tract infection. and needed intravenous antibiotics in the hospital.
While I was in the hospital recovering from this infection, my doctor asked if he could bring student doctors to see me since a penectomy is very rare. It made me feel a bit like a circus freak, but I understood why they found it useful to watch.
Covid was still affecting everything, so I isolated myself: I became very depressed; In August, I was in a really bad situation and tried to end my life with an overdose.
Luckily, Colette got home in time and called an ambulance.
Many of my feelings at the time were mixed with grief, but also a sense of shame for having this particular cancer. I was later diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
I had individual sessions with a mental health nurse and then group sessions with other cancer patients at The Christie, where we all shared our different experiences with the disease.
Although I have never met another person with penile cancer, we were able to share common ways that helped us cope.
Although in some ways I wish I had had lung cancer, since people always know someone who has had it: penile cancer is both isolated and very rare.
Although I have learned to adapt, I am no longer a normal man.
Four years later, I still go to the bathroom to undress so Colette doesn’t see me naked, even though she says that doesn’t bother her and that she loves me just the way I am.
We can’t have any intimate relationships anymore, which is hard, but I’ve had to accept that he’s no longer part of my life.
I have biannual checkups in which my testicles and lymph nodes are scanned to check that the cancer has not returned.
I still suffer from frequent urinary infections, which require antibiotics, and I also have continuous pain in the nerves around where my penis was, so I need to take painkillers day and night (paracetamol or co-codamol and other medications to deaden the nerve messages that sent). to my brain).
I have good and bad days; I try to look at the funny side: I was told my penis was flown somewhere for medical research and my joke is that I’ve logged more air miles than I have!
Unfortunately, it is still the case that men are embarrassed to ask a doctor to look at a spot or mark, especially when it is “down there.” I would love to see men talk more openly about this and not feel embarrassed to see their doctor if they are worried about their penis. Even if my story could help another man avoid what I went through, I would be absolutely delighted.