Nick's lung cancer story

[Nick]

I remember my wife saying, “This isn’t right—you shouldn’t have to sleep sitting up on the sofa.” I say sleep, but really I mean drifting in and out of consciousness for a couple of hours because of the pain. I kept telling her I was pretty sure you couldn’t get cancer in the shoulder. I was diagnosed with lung cancer back in February. At the time, I was teaching a lesson, writing maths on the board, when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. I thought, “I’m 45, I must be getting old. I probably just need to get fitter.”

Not long after, I phoned the doctor. It was half term, and I remember visiting Kew Gardens and having to carry my three-year-old most of the way because the pain wouldn’t stop. It kept getting worse and started affecting my sleep. I couldn’t lie down at all. The back-and-forth with doctors went on for about three months because they reasonably thought it should settle on its own within that time.

Eventually I was referred to a shoulder specialist, but the wait was about three months. Because the pain was so severe, I kept calling the secretary, trying to explain how bad it was. At one point I cried on the phone and said I couldn’t sleep and begged for help. She kindly pushed things forward and arranged a CT scan. The specialist initially thought it might just be wear and tear and suggested an injection. Before the injection, they mentioned that the level of pain I was in didn’t really match what they were seeing on the scans, but they went ahead anyway because it might help.

Looking back, I sometimes wish there had been more awareness that this kind of pain could be referred from something like lung cancer, where the visible shoulder damage doesn’t match the severity of the pain. But I also understand how difficult it is for doctors to consider every possible cause. Later, another doctor listened to my chest and said something didn’t sound right. He prescribed an inhaler and steroids and told me to come back in three days if it didn’t improve. When I returned, he sent me straight for a chest X-ray. Interestingly, the earlier shoulder X-ray hadn’t shown anything, but when they reviewed it later, they noticed that in the corner of the image you could actually see part of the lung and a bit of fluid—what had been causing the referred shoulder pain.

Within about two weeks of starting treatment, I began to feel better. The pain started to decrease, and I gradually grew stronger. I’m naturally a hopeful person, and I believe in hope. A lot is happening in research right now, and new things are being developed all the time. At the moment there’s no cure for my condition, and that’s hard to accept. I’m someone who would usually step back and let others go first, but this experience taught me that when something genuinely feels wrong, you sometimes have to push hard.

Unfortunately, it can be the people who speak up the most who get attention, and that’s not how things should be. But it does signal to healthcare professionals that something unusual is happening, because you’re the one who knows your own body best. They can only judge based on what they observe and how you describe your symptoms. I didn’t shout, but I was persistent. I kept calling and saying, “Please, is there anything you can do?” I phoned one day, then again the next morning saying I still couldn’t sleep, and then again the day after. Eventually they found a cancellation for me.

Sometimes it really is about persistence and timing—something opens up, and they realize how urgent it is for you. So don’t be afraid to keep pushing when you know something isn’t right. That persistence can make the difference between a good prognosis and one that isn’t as good.

[Deep]

Diagnosed with lung cancer after months of worsening shoulder pain, he learned that severe, unexplained symptoms require persistence. Initial scans missed signs, but continued advocacy led to proper testing and treatment. His message: trust your instincts, keep pushing for answers, and hold onto hope.