My father didn’t know what prostate cancer was.
That’s the thing I keep coming back to.
He was a working-class man who worked hard, looked after his family and got on with life. He wasn’t somebody who spent his time thinking about his health.
Like a lot of men of his generation, he simply assumed that if something was seriously wrong somebody would tell him.
But nobody did.
When he started having ‘accidents’, he didn’t understand what was happening. None of us did. There was confusion, embarrassment and concern, but no sense that this could be the beginning of something that would eventually kill him.
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