Dice land in our favour

A ROLL of the dice: Chronicle Managing Editor David Whaley will undergo less invasive laser surgery

IN August, Chronicle Managing Editor David Whaley concluded a series of reports on his three-month throat cancer journey with an “all-clear” message from the medical team. But that wasn’t the end of the story...

BEING a shy and retiring type it has been with some reluctance that I have stepped up to the microphone for the last five years to give a pub-singer’s version of Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” to the packed masses of the Hare and Hounds in Shude Hill.


It has been the final call to taxis at 4.30pm for an 18-strong group who begin their Super League Grand Final day out with breakfast at the Morning Star in Shaw. It’s a long day.

So it was with a heavy heart that I entered this year, knowing we were to break with tradition.

Our lads lifted the roof with the regulars and I mouthed the words, not having the voice to sing, before we departed for the game.

Happily I backed hooker James Roby of underdogs Saints for man-of-the-match - and picked up £40!

I tell you this drunken tale because I am beginning to believe my luck is changing.

After finding out my cancer had never quite gone away, the favourable roll of the dice we wanted from the scan fell in our favour.

The trip to North Manchester General Hospital for the results of the scan 24 hours earlier was good news — well if being told that you are going to have laser surgery can ever be “good news”.

The truth is it’s a helluva lot better than the alternatives.

The cancer team met earlier that morning — a large group of consultants, oncologists, surgeons, nurses and specialists who share notes on upcoming cases and decide how to proceed.

I had asked if I could sit in on my case discussions - but the professionals thought this was a step in the name of full disclosure too far.

What they discovered was that the cancer hadn’t spread. Major relief.

Consultant Mr Murthy explained that they believed laser surgery was the best option available to remove my vocal cord tumour and leave me with some semblance of a voice.

There was protracted discussion among the team to make my wife Wendy and me aware that laser surgery can be an imprecise science. The truth is they won’t know how much of the vocal cord they will have to remove until they start to operate. With each layer of tissue removed, the side effects and consequences will be different. I am completely in the docs’ hands.

The downside? The tumour is in a difficult place to reach. There is the possibility I may wake up to find they had to stop early, or didn’t even start.

They won’t cary on regardless either, swopping the laser for conventional instruments mid-op. “Different set of tools. Laser for this one, saw for the other,” I was told. A bit too much detail there for Wendy, now wide-eyed!

But they are going to give it a go - and they certainly have my permission to do everything possible.

I’m not expecting to be singing “Sweet Caroline” again, but someone else will fill in.

And the dice continue to roll in our favour: my “Keep Smiling” articles have made the finalists in the 02 North-West Media Awards’ feature writer category next month — one of three Chronicle finalists alongside Darren Robinson (photographer) and Matthew Chambers (sport). So that’s one more bit of good news. We’ll all find out how we did at Manchester’s impressive Imperial War Museum on November 13, to find out if the Chronicle can land victory. Either way, I’m going to keep smiling!