Tyson’s story: Growing a moustache saved my life

It was a Sunday morning in late October that I first realised that something was wrong. I was thinking, “I didn’t get hit in the nuts last night, did I?”. Maybe it was a hernia, I’d been going pretty hard at the gym, maybe I pushed it a bit too hard? It couldn’t have been anything else. Surely not cancer. Nah, no chance.

But the pain wouldn’t go away. It got so bad that I was limping on the way to university in the mornings. “I’ll get through exams and then get it checked,” I told myself. My moustache (an early Movember attempt) was a daily reminder that I should do something about it, but I had other things to do first. To this day I am sure that growing a moustache saved my life. Who knows what might’ve happened if I wasn’t growing a moustache at the time, and all the health messages that come with it.

By the time I got the diagnosis I already knew it was testicular cancer and that I should have done something earlier. The cancer had spread from my testicle to my kidney, where a growth roughly the size of a golf ball had taken up residence. Surgery before Christmas, followed by three months of chemotherapy, was how I would spend my summer. I always remember what my GP told me when I got the diagnosis, “it’ll be a whirlwind from here, everything is going to happen quickly.” He couldn’t have been more spot on.

The first person I told was my best friend. I swore him to keep my secret. I hadn’t even told my parents yet. Looking back, I feel bad about it, but he was there for me in a time of need. I’ll always appreciate him for that.

Telling my parents was the hardest part. I didn’t want them to feel sorry for me or like it was something that they could have prevented and hadn’t. I never really dwelled on why I got cancer, I just knew I had to beat it.

I was lucky enough that I didn’t have to work while going through treatment. I moved home and could focus on getting better. I would travel to Palmerston North, roughly an hour’s drive, for chemotherapy. Treatment consisted of being attached to an intravenous drip for six days, 23 hours a day. During that time, I’d be pumped with some pretty harsh chemotherapy drugs called bleomycin, etoposide, and platinum. I was also given a lot of intravenous fluids and other good things too. I’d then go back each of the next two weeks for a top-up, just an afternoon this time, and that was one cycle. I did three.

One of my favourite memories was getting a haircut during my second cycle of chemotherapy. A good friend of mine is a barber, so I asked him if he would shave my head, so it was less dramatic when my hair inevitably fell out.

It’s mates like mine that made me want to do Movember. The support I had from them throughout my cancer journey was amazing. Growing a moustache or shaving your head are relatively small things to do compared to the positive impact they could have. That’s what makes Movember special for me. Each year someone is doing something crazier than the year before to raise funds and awareness for Movember. The community is epic.

Being a community ambassador for Movember has opened my eyes to that even more. I’ve met some awesome, inspiring, and crazy people who go mad for the month of the mo. It’s been so epic. I can’t wait to see and hear what people have planned for Movember 2024 – let’s make it the best one yet!