It’s Movember, a campaign raising awareness of men’s mental health, and testicular and prostate cancer. In this blog, Mark Pattison, Senior Marketing and Communications Officer for HI NENC, shares his personal journey with testicular cancer and explains why he is a Movember ambassador.

It’s been 17 years since I was diagnosed with testicular cancer and can clearly remember when I found a lump.

I was initially reluctant to say or do anything about it, hoping that it would just go away if I ignored it. Thankfully, I did go to the GP for an examination, but I sometimes think about ‘what if’ I had just left it?

My cancer was caught early and surgery and treatment took six months. This involved an orchidectomy (removal of the tescticle), cryogenic freezing of sperm through embryology in case treatment affected fertility, and a nine-week course of chemotherapy.

While my prognosis was far better than other types of cancer, hearing that C-word at 28-years-old had a significant impact on my mental health. Those six months felt like a lifetime, and running parallel with my physical recovery was a diagnosis of chronic anxiety.

Panic attacks, nightmares and excess over-checking for other lumps were a constant, and during my final overnight chemo session in hospital, I had the overwhelming urge to rip the cannula out of my arm. I very nearly did, and my parents had to turn out at midnight to take me home, to avoid me doing just that.

I would like to think that there is better understanding now of cancer going hand-in-hand with mental health, but in 2007 I had to seek support off my own back and went through Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) while under five years active cancer surveillance.

But it wasn’t until several years later, when I received a surprise invitation from Movember that things significantly changed.

I’d been supporting Movember for a few years by this point; it seemed a natural vehicle to give something back to the NHS for saving my life. I’m mindful of the cost of cancer treatment – the average cost for one round of chemo is £30,000 – and never want to take for granted that I received my treatment for free.

So, I was invited down to the Movember office in London to share a few drinks with a group of guys, who had also had testicular cancer.

Being an introvert, I wasn’t convinced the get-together was for me – I’m usually the quiet one at social gatherings at the best of times, but after some persuasion I went along.

I fully expected to share a few drinks for an hour or two, maybe hear a few ball jokes and then get on my way, never to see those strangers again… Best therapy session ever!!!

We pulled an all-nighter at the Movember office. Strangers steadily opened up about their respective fears, mental health struggles, even relationship breakdowns that came as a consequence of testicular cancer.

So many similar stories. Stupid insignificant thoughts that had been rattling around in my head and had kept to myself were mirrored back to me during that session.

That evening was when I turned a corner and began to recover properly, realising the value of speaking to other ‘one-offs’. That night did more for my recovery than any CBT session.

That evening wasn’t a one-off either; over several sessions, we all loosened up and laughed out loud over beer pong and pizza, and I can honestly say those Movember sessions brought me a lot of peace. I have to doff my cap to Movember’s Ben Bowers for making those ‘one-off’ conversations happen. Twice diagnosed with testicular cancer himself, he organised us into a focus group, which ultimately led to the creation of Movember’s Nuts & Bolts resource tool.

I have since worked as a volunteer guide for Nuts & Bolts, which gives those facing a testicular cancer diagnosis the opportunity to receive one-to-one support from those of us who have been there and bought the t-shirt.

Knowing how lonely that journey can be, even with the best support from family and friends, it isn’t hard for me to imagine how other men might struggle, and I’ve been able to be a sounding board for men in Canada, Australia, the US as well as the UK.

So why do I support Movember?

While my involvement with Movember started with a personal diagnosis, my continued support has moved beyond that. 10 years after my diagnosis my father Derek was diagnosed with inoperable bowel cancer, which gave me the perspective of someone from an entirely different generation dealing with the disease. My dad was born in 1937 – very much a generation that ‘just got on with it’ and didn’t disclose his innermost feelings, even with his own family.

We have a much more open mindset towards mental health nowadays and knowing that poor mental health and suicide are a leading cause of premature deaths in men, my motivation is very much geared towards supporting younger generations, to encourage them to have more open and honest conversations about their health, because there is nothing ‘manly’ about keeping those concerns to yourself.