My husband's silent killer
Maureen Dickson's husband was fit and sporty. Then he started tiring quickly.
By Anuskha Asthana. From The Observer, 27 Nov 2005.
There were no symptoms to alert Mike Dickson of the tumour growing inside his prostate gland. The father of two walked five miles to and from work every day, was a keen canoeist and had taken part in the London to Brighton bike ride every year for a decade.
In 1999 he did the ride, with his two sons, Richard and Jonathan. A year later, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer.
'It was one year 10 months from diagnosis to death,' says his wife Maureen . 'He had just turned 66 when he died, just a few months before our fortieth wedding anniversary.'
Each year almost 32,000 men in the UK are diagnosed as suffering from the disease. One in three of them will die from it - one an hour. Despite the fact that two of Mike's friends had suffered with prostate problems he had never discussed the disease with his doctor.
Unfortunately, there is no fool-proof simple test for the disease. The only way to know for certain is a biopsy.
Another complication is that on top of the nearly 32,000 men diagnosed each year there may be many more who have the disease but will never develop symptoms or need treatment. What is needed, according to campaigners, is research into finding a new improved test. Only that could pick out men like Mike - who had no symptoms - before it becomes too late.
The only warning sign Maureen can remember was when her husband was laying a new kitchen floor. 'He found it hard, got tired quickly and lost a little weight but we put it down to stress,' she says. A month later Mike became unable to urinate.
He was diagnosed and given hormone treatment to block the testosterone that 'feeds' the cancer and sent home.
'Our reaction was a stunned silence and disbelief because he had been so healthy,' says Maureen. 'I needed to do something so I tried to find out as much as I could and contacted The Prostate Cancer Charity.' Despite the bad news the couple enjoyed the summer and in September they were told the medicine was beating the disease.
'We were delighted,' says Maureen. 'The consultant said go and have a lovely holiday you deserve it.' The pair flew to Italy. In Rome, Maureen threw coins into the Trevi fountain and wished for her husband to make a full recovery.
But he didn't. When they returned, Mike began having problems urinating again and began bleeding. They returned to hospital and he was referred to the hospital oncology department. Then in February, tests showed his condition had seriously degenerated and there was no hope of a cure. After hearing the news the couple walked out of the room and both burst into tears. 'We were devastated,' recalls Maureen.
Maureen insisted there must be some way to extend his life. Her consultant told her: 'I suppose we could try but you know what the NHS is like - it takes time.'
'I said, "This is urgent". He said, "All cancer is urgent."'
Maureen says that throughout the illness she felt like she was always fighting for Mike to be seen more quickly. Every appointment and treatment date involved a long wait but constant pressure kept bringing them forward. She put it down to her ability to argue.
'But if you aren't very articulate, then what?' she asks. 'We got these appointments because we did so much pushing. Otherwise he would have had to wait. If you express your case clearly and with bullet points then you get heard.'
After an intensive course of radiotherapy Mike returned home and shared a 'wonderful' few months with his family. He attended his eldest son's wedding. 'We enjoyed every single minute we had together,' says Maureen. 'We lived for each day and I would pull open the curtains and thank God Mike was with me for another day.' When Mike told his sons that his treatment was not working one asked: 'Are you scared of dying?' Mike replied: 'No, I am not scared of dying but I am so upset that I will not see my grand-daughter grow up.'
Prostate cancer usually spreads to the bones but in Mike's case it spread to the stomach and lymph glands. It meant that fluid collected in his legs and they swelled. By autumn there was nothing more the doctors could do. 'We were told he would probably live until summer,' says Maureen.
The couple visited prostate cancer expert Professor Jonathan Waxman. 'He was lovely but he said there was nothing that we could have done differently because it was so aggressive. He asked if we wanted to know what would happen and we said yes. He said it would spread to the liver and Mike would get more and more tired and go to sleep more.' Maureen says Mike experienced little pain and never had to resort to morphine. 'I don't know how I would have coped if he was in terrible pain,' she adds.
That Christmas their son Richard, had bought a new home and was showing pictures of it to his parents. 'It will be great when you come to see it, dad,' he said. Realising there was no chance that he could ever visit his son's house, Mike decided to tell him how little time he had left.
'They knew he was dying but they did not realise how soon,' says Maureen. She said that through the period Mike was 'philosophical' about his situation and never asked why it had happened to him.
Nevertheless, Mike died much sooner than the doctors expected. Maureen remembers him sitting in his chair - it was too painful to lie down - smoking half coronas.
'He wrote me a Christmas card telling me what a great time he had had in life and told me he wanted a party at his funeral,' said Maureen. 'He asked for his ashes to be scattered in the river Arun, where he used to canoe. He said he always felt like going up and down with the tide. At the end Mike just decided he had had enough and folded up.'
Mike died at home on 5 March, 2000 with his family by his side. More than 150 people attended his funeral, all dressed in bright colours. Maureen wore a pale grey suit with a bright pink top and scarf. The congregation waltzed out to Buena Vista Social Club and ate Mexican food back at the house. 'People told me they went in sad and came out happy,' says Maureen. As he had requested, she scattered her husband's ashes on their wedding anniversary.
That day Maureen decided to do something for The Prostate Cancer Charity. Three years later, in September this year she organised a Dawn Walk for the charity. More than 100 people gathered at 6am to walk six miles along the Brighton seafront towards the rising sun.
'I want to get people to talk about prostate cancer,' she says. 'Doctors say it is an old man's disease and something else will get you first but it is not true. It hits so many men before they retire and the wives are left alone. Nobody wants to know about the disease - men, politicians, celebrities who have it, celebrities who don't. It really is a silent killer.'
'I think there should be more money in research and more posters around the place. Men are terrible, they do not talk about it because they are embarrassed.'
Mike would have been 'chuffed' with the Dawn Walk according to Maureen. Next year the event is being repeated across the country and she hopes that in a few years thousands will be walking for prostate cancer on the morning of the first Sunday in September. 'Mike was my soulmate. We laughed, talked and were daft together,' says Maureen. 'I am doing this for him.'