Horrible Pit Number One

In the summer of 2014 the third bowel cancer screening test I had taken came back positive; so after all the usual tests, on Wednesday 8th October, I had keyhole surgery by the consultant, Mr Clark, in Poole Hospital. It had been caught at a very early stage, so I was told it had all been removed and no further treatment was required. However, when by the following Wednesday morning I was still in as much pain as the day after the operation, we rang our local surgery to ask what we should do.

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There followed a series of delays, so it wasn’t until after midnight that the registrar, Mr Wood, examined me and after an x-ray confirmed that a large, infected haematoma * had developed, at 3.00 a.m. Mr Wood performed an emergency operation lasting six hours. The result was a seven-inch cut down my stomach, an ileostomy,** three days in ICU (the first half-day under sedation), one week in hospital, and I lost one and a half stone in weight in three weeks. I walked into hospital for the first operation a fairly fit person, and came out after the emergency operation a doddery old man, looking like someone out of a concentration camp!

* A localized swelling that is filled with blood caused by a break in the wall of a blood vessel.

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** Similar to a colostomy: a part of the bowel is brought to the surface of the stomach (called a stoma) and a pouch is fitted around it, which then needs emptying 10-12 times per day (at least, it did for me!).

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I must make it clear that I am aware my experience fades into insignificance when compared to the sufferings millions of people face around the world throughout their lives. Most of this suffering is due to man’s inhumanity to man and would end overnight if only everyone obeyed God’s instruction that we should love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love our neighbours as ourselves.

Jesus said to him, 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'

Matthew 22:37. See also Mark 12:30–31; Luke 10:27

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However, I am here describing what happened to me from my perspective.

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That week in hospital was arguably the worst week of my life. I have no memory of the three days in ICU apart from the last few hours before transferring to a normal ward. The first few nights I do remember were spent wide awake the whole time. I am not saying this is what actually happened, but what it felt like was Satan coming to me time and again, saying,

“I have you in my power now and I’m going to destroy you!”

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I knew that everything I had believed in and stood for throughout my life was useless and if I came out of this alive, life would never be the same again. Each day I tried to read my Bible as I have done throughout my adult life, but got no comfort from it, apart from one occasion when I managed to read a bit more than I had done at other times and did then feel ‘picked up’ a little. It seemed that if God did exist, He had abandoned me and I was left alone to suffer the constant pain.

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Everything seemed to go wrong.

• I had cannulas in both arms but they kept coming out and having to be replaced, leaving a lot of bruising

• Fairly early on my catheter malfunctioned and had to be removed, which meant every night I was constantly waking up needing to use a bottle (10-15 times per night!) and then not being able to get back to sleep again

• The stomach drain was held in by stitches supported by dressings, but the dressings kept coming loose, which meant the stitches were constantly pulling on my skin

• I had a button to press that delivered morphine through one of the cannulas and the nurses kept telling my to use it to relieve my pain, but every time I did I had hallucinations and could see the most horrible images and events before my eyes that my mind has now blocked out. I have no memory now of anything I saw, except I know it was horrifyingly awful!

• I struggled to cope with the ileostomy and had great difficulty in understanding the nurses’ instructions on how I would manage it when I left

• My nose was constantly blocked up and because of the pain in my stomach I couldn’t blow it to clear it

• I couldn’t understand what food I was now allowed to eat and three times the meal I ordered was taken away from me because it was wrong, and twice it was not replaced with anything else

• The breathing tube inserted while under sedation had damaged my throat, so my voice was now significantly weaker and I had great difficulty in swallowing (it was four or five months before this fully returned to normal)  - I nearly choked on a cheese sandwich

• And more problems too tedious to mention.

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All this may sound very trivial, but at the time to me it was like a foretaste of Hell! I felt completely crushed, emotionally, physically, spiritually and mentally.

Toward the end of November in my daily readings I reached a chapter in the book of Job, which seemed to describe my experience perfectly - along with the promise of restoration to come.

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"Man is also chastened with pain on his bed, and with strong pain in many of his bones, so that his life abhors bread, and his soul succulent food. His flesh wastes away from sight, and his bones stick out which once were not seen. Yes, his soul draws near the Pit, and his life to the executioners. "If there is a messenger for him, A mediator, one among a thousand, to show man His uprightness, then He is gracious to him, and says, 'Deliver him from going down to the Pit; I have found a ransom'; his flesh shall be young like a child's, he shall return to the days of his youth. He shall pray to God, and He will delight in him, he shall see His face with joy, For He restores to man His righteousness.”

Job 33:19-26

I have no complaints about the treatment I received in the hospital: the staff were all very kind and professional and I know how blessed I am to live in a country where such incredible care is freely available. My ‘hell’ was in spite of their efforts, not because of them.

After an eternity I was allowed home, and began the long process of trying to recover. At the beginning of December I saw Mr Clark who had told me he would reverse the ileostomy; but to my horror I discovered this could not be done for another three and a half months! My body needed this time to recover fully from the operations because there was the possibility, in view of the problems they had had with me, that I would need to be fully opened up again as in the emergency op.

I was devastated and couldn’t bear the thought of having to cope with the ileostomy for that length of time. However, two days later I realised that if I had to wait so long, I must try to get my life back together and start doing something. So the very first thing I did was to go outside to sweep up all the leaves that had blown into our drive and take them to the local tip.

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Gill, my wife, came with me to the tip; but after we had poured all the leaves into the 35 cubic yards skip that was three quarters full of garden rubbish, I discovered my wedding ring had slipped off my finger and joined the rest of the rubbish. I’d worn it for over 48 years! It had become loose because of all my lost weight and I’d tied string round it to tighten it up; but this was a cold day and with cold fingers had become loose again and I didn’t feel it move.

This was the last straw and I completely fell apart. When we got home I collapsed in a heap of wails and tears, knowing it was impossible the ring could be found again and realising that the series of bad events was going to go on and on. Gill prayed for me that God would restore my peace and that the ring would come to light. I couldn’t do anything other than cry!

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Then the miracle happened. Within an hour the phone rang with the message that they’d found my ring. When I put it back on my finger in their office I fell apart again and had to rush to the car, leaving Gill to explain to the men what it meant to me. On the way home I realised that my ring now was not only a symbol of Gill’s and my love for each other, but of God’s love for me, who had worked such a miracle to restore it to me.

This is not to diminish the efforts of the four men who spent 30 minutes on their hands and knees searching through all the rubbish; but when people obey God’s commands (and in this case whether they knew it or not they were obeying His command to love their neighbour as themselves) they put themselves in line for God to work miracles.

After this I wore an elastic band on my finger in front of the ring to ensure it would not come off again. The Council publicity department asked our permission to give the story to the press and it went viral! The interview for BBC TV South Today can be seen here and the video interview and report for the Bournemouth Daily Echo can be seen here. Their photo, taken by Sally Adams, can be seen below.