A diagnosis of cancer used to mean the end of working life. I’m pleased to say that, from my own experience, this is no longer true – if you have support at home and at work to get through it.
The shock of learning I had cancer was awful. The fear that I might die was combined with anger that this was happening at the peak of my political life. Then I thought: “I haven’t got time for this.” As an MP with a constituency to serve and a government minister with a vital programme to deliver, I thought: “I have too much to do to fit in dealing with cancer as well.”
I was hugely relieved when the consultant assured me that although chemotherapy followed by radiotherapy would not be easy, I could aim to work throughout the treatment and that the long-term prognosis was very good.
Everyone is different in their physical reaction: some require all their energy to survive the physical and emotional impact of the treatment; others, such as one forklift truck driver in my constituency, work every day except those of their chemotherapy sessions.
I took the decision to fight back and carry on as normal as far as I was able.
I had eight fortnightly sessions of chemotherapy and arranged to be treated on a Friday so I was at home when the sickness and tiredness was at its worst. In the following days at work, my colleagues responded superbly.
Chemotherapy knocks out your immune system so, as most infections come from our hands, my staff did a daily wipe-down of surfaces I touched most often – phones, desks and door handles. I even had exclusive access to one of the toilets! We all regularly wiped our hands with a disinfectant gel and I avoided shaking hands with people – hard for a politician!
Technology was vital. I ran telephone surgeries in my constituency and set up an online surgery on my website. I conducted meetings via phone or video conference. I avoided speaking personally at events by making recorded speeches or using live video links.
Friends and colleagues were sensitive to my feelings. When my hair fell out, fellow parliamentarians assured me that cropped styles were all the rage. And a comment at the despatch box from one bald minister about how at least my hair would grow back cheered me up no end.
The 30 days of daily radiotherapy were easier to endure than the chemotherapy, but the impact on my energy levels was worse. I had to adjust my diary so I could rest more, pace myself better and even take an afternoon nap. My energy levels are back up, but my goal to be back on the tennis court will have to wait until my lungs are fully recovered.
My message to employers is straightforward. Don’t assume that someone being treated for cancer can’t continue to work. They may want to and you can help them to do so. It’s the everyday things that make this possible – reducing the chances of infection, being flexible about diaries and workloads, being sensitive to the emotional challenges and being creative about working practices.
Working through cancer is hard, but if your body’s reaction to the treatment allows you to, if you have the right frame of mind, and if, like me, you are fortunate enough to have family, friends, colleagues and an employer who can give you the practical and emotional support you need, then you can get through it.
Phil Hope MP, a former skills minister, is now minister for the Third Sector