Tosh’s Story

Now, on Saturday, 8th November he takes on our Dickie Dip challenge – www.materfoundation.ie/dickiedip – celebrating life by embracing the opportunity to do something silly with friends, all while helping others facing the same life-changing battle that he faced.

“It sounds like a weird thing to say, but I was always very aware of any changes or lumps around my testicles. Having had hydroceles and varicoceles as a child, I’d been used to small swellings in that area and had undergone a number of ultrasounds through the years. Everyone is different and some bumps are normal. I’m always telling friends that you should know what your balls feel like so you’ll know if anything changes.

“That’s why when the initial discomfort stared in Autumn 2022, I wasn’t too panicked. It presented as a pain or discomfort in that area, especially when I was sitting. During a self-exam after a bath, I found a hard lump… this was different than any previous swellings or lumps I’d had. It’s strange to say, but I consider myself quite lucky. Because of my history, my GP didn’t want to rule anything out and ran the full gamut of tests.

“I had an ultrasound the day before my 29th birthday and they found the tumour… not the type of present you ever want to get. My friend Kevin came out to meet me afterwards. He’d gone through the same thing when we were in college… we call ourselves the ball brothers, on account of our fallen soldiers. We just sat by the sea and talked and cried. It was scary, but I knew in that moment that I wasn’t alone and that I could get through this.

“Surgery was scheduled for early November to remove the tumour and it would be biopsied to confirm cancer. The surgery was tough enough…It took a month before I could walk upright, and I remember having to use walking poles to get around the house.

“The biopsy confirmed the cancer – technically, a multifocal seminoma with part embryonal carcinoma – but initial follow up scans were clear. All seemed good. However, another scan in June 2023 brought a devastating setback… the cancer had spread, it was in my lungs. Chemo was the only option.

“A spread to the lungs was frightening. It’s easy to get sucked into Dr Google, reading things you really shouldn’t about ‘distant metastases’ and ‘five-year survival rates’. Normally, a testicular cancer spread would go to local lymph nodes or your kidneys… but there was no sign of disease there, which was good. Again, it feels weird talking about luck when I’d just been dealt one of the worst hands in life, but I was lucky. It was a cancer that had a defined treatment that was proven to work, one that could bring a cure not just remission – there was hope.

“Facing chemo, I didn’t know how it was going to go. I knew the treatment was going to make me sick, really sick. I didn’t know if it would work, or what it would cost me in the process. I had this four-day window between getting the news and when I was due to be admitted… as far as I knew, they could’ve been the last four good days left in my life. I remember driving into the Dublin Mountains for a picnic with friends on the very last day and going skinny dipping at sunset. It was daft, but it felt like this wonderful moment of freedom when everything else was closing in.

“I did three cycles of BEP chemo, nine weeks in total. I would spend a full week in hospital, getting pumped with endless litres of hydration liquid, steroids and some fairly unpleasant drugs. Then I would be sent home to recover my strength, before starting it all again two weeks later. The first cycle was by far the worst: I started my treatment during a heatwave, which really didn’t help, and left the hospital with some fairly nasty side effects.

“I still had my hair at the end of that first week but knew I’d start to lose it soon. For me, the best solution was to get my friends round, order pizza and get them to take turns shaving my head. It’s hard to explain, but it made me feel like I didn’t have to face cancer alone.

“Those months were all about getting through things. I didn’t feel brave, or strong, despite the countless people who told me I was. I was in survival mode. All I could do was focus on getting from one moment to the next: next hour; next meal; next day. Honestly, it was my family that were the strong ones. They had to put on a brave face for my sake, even though a part of their world had just come crashing down. My dad in particular—he’s a big acts-of-service type guy. He won’t always say what he’s feeling, but he’d do anything for me or my sisters. That’s a big part of why I chose to fundraise for the Mater Foundation – for me it’s vital that patient families get support too.

“A massive part of going through treatment for me was the uncertainty—I had no idea what changes were going to be permanent, or when things would return to normal. It’s so strange the things you count as wins: Seeing the first whispy blond hairs reappear on my upper lip about mid-autumn made me cry, and I’ve no shame admitting that! Though the one thing that did change permanently throughout this experience… was me. Surviving cancer made me focus a lot more on being the version of myself I want to be – fitter, embracing life, not going through the paces… living in the moment, but living for the future. Because I have the luxury of a future to live for.

“After a stressful series of tests, I recently got my two-year all clear. Significant because that 2-year window is typically when my cancer would re-occur and it hasn’t! I’ve passed that milestone. And, together with a group of friends, we’re going to take on the Dickie Dip to celebrate – why?

“Because, it’s about the freedom of being alive and being able to do something silly; it’s about being proud of my body and its scars; it’s about supporting others going through the battles I’ve faced; it’s about sharing the compassion and support that was given to me and… it takes things full circle from that initial skinny dip in the Dublin Mountains before my treatment to where I am now. It really is life-affirming, and I’d encourage any of ye who can to take part.”

Tosh, Co Dublin

Join Tosh and hundreds of other men on the 8th of November in Skerries for the Dickie Dip. Support men’s cancer care and brave the cold Irish sea!

Tosh’s final thought:

“People say I’m very young to have had cancer, but they might be surprised to know I was the median age for testicular cancer… being young doesn’t mean you are indestructible. Men need to know what their balls feel like, otherwise how will they know when something potential life-changing is there.”