Standing in Broadway, waiting for that bus to come...

Therapy radiographer Wesley Doherty keeps a close watch on his monitor

Chronicle Managing Editor David Whaley has been diagnosed with throat cancer and is sharing his experiences with readers.

Part FIVE: First full week of treatment at Christie Oldham.

RADIOTHERAPY is a treatment of repetition.

Whatever total amount is calculated by your consultant and his team as necessary to take on your tumour is divided into daily doses.


The man at the helm of my cancer journey, Mr Lee, decided my T1 tumour (I’m fortunate they caught it early) requires 16 daily visits. Being treated locally at Christie Oldham is making a big difference to the daily physical toll of thse visits

I am very proud of the Chronicle’s role in getting Oldhamers galvanised to raise £1million to make the Christie radiotherapy unit at the Royal Oldham Hospital a reality. The doors opened in March 2010 and up to 400 people a week have been treated since.

The first full week of our visits has been about routine. Ever-helpful admin manager Rebecca Hamnett has been able to schedule my treatment sessions in the afternoon, so I can continue working.

The team at the Chronicle is soaking up the work. I am still in early morning, but duck out early and don’t go back. The paper still comes out. Do they really need me at all, I ask? Awkward silence!

My wife Wendy is by my side every step of the way and is also able to be flexible in the office, thanks to her hugely-supportive bosses and colleagues.

As we get through the days they genuinely want to know “how it is going?” Honest answer? It’s going! I feel like I am standing in the middle of Broadway waiting to be hit by a bus.

Lead radiographer Julie Davies and Macmillan Information centre manager Sian Burley need to warn you of what “might” happen. But everyone is different, and as I reached the end of the first full week of three weeks of visits, side-effects were... missing.

The first three treatments were extended time under the mask to incorporate scans to check and double check the maths and the tumour.

The next three came and went. Well, apart from the Friday session that saw a lengthy wait for all of us after a major computer breakdown. It happens.

We took advantage of the delay to grab a bite to eat in the cafe. We logged in with reception and were well fed and watered before returning to find things were moving again.

One of the reasons I am writing about my journey is because patient confidentiality prevents us from reporting on most of the unit’s visitors. But we are now on nodding terms with others walking a similar path. Some sit in silence; others are happier to make small talk.

“What is it like for you?” asked one man being treated for prostate cancer. “I don’t feel anything. I am not ill. This is very strange.”

I couldn’t agree more. I tell cheery radiographer Hannah Jennings about my “waiting for a bus” as she waits for me to go topless for another blast (bet I don’t get to write that again in any other context).

Hannah says that side effects might or might not show themselves. But she says it with a sympathetic edge to her voice. Something tells me the bus is just around the corner.

Keep smiling!


ARE you, or a member of your family, about to start a cancer journey through radiotherapy?

Christie Oldham is holding the next of its open evenings on June 23.

Says lead radiographer Julie Davies: “They can be a great help necause they give patients an insight into the whole process. They are a chance for other family members to see what goes on, which is something we can’t do once treatment starts.”

The sessions are free and staff give up their own time to host them. If you would like to attend, call 0161-918 7700.