We are at that time again—tests and consultancy reviews for both of my cancers. I start this week with blood tests on my PSA status with the consultancy, due next Monday. Yes, I am writing the next blog on a Monday again; after four years, I have learned that getting it behind me early in the week is less stressful. The later I leave it, the bigger the task, it seems.
“Over the years, I have found commencing a task is often more challenging than the task itself. In farming, the seasons ensured adherence to timely implementation, something I have not always adhered to in my personal life.” - Peter McSporran
At school, I would always leave my homework or revision until the last minute; this, coupled with poor attention in class, resulted in poor marks on tests and failed exams. I did little revision at college, but as I enjoyed the subjects, I was very attentive in class when I attended. Many a day only joining the lecture after the first break. I would be wrong not to say that this blog was started mainly to fill time during my serious illness but now has become a routine of self-compelled duty to get out each Friday. I sometimes wonder if I will finish it within my lifetime and, therefore, if I should speed it up and condense it more. Your thoughts on that would be appreciated, although your thoughts may not necessarily be heeded. Two things make it hard: I rarely know what I will write about when I start each week, and despite some knowledge of the timelines, my memory does not always serve me well.
It was exactly seven years ago this week that I returned from Mozambique to be informed my PSA, prostate cancer marker, was up. I had been remiss and had not had a test for a couple of years. The doctor was not too concerned, nor was I, when an ultrasound showed no visible tumours. This was in Zambia, at the same time I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes, only when Rozanne brought it to the doctor's attention about my high sugar levels in my blood test results, which the doctor had missed. As I said, the doctor was not too concerned as my PSA count was still reasonably low. That all changed in the New Year when it was found to have doubled in a short period, and due to one thing and another, not least my work schedule, it was only in early March 2017 that I was finally treated by brachytherapy. Four years later, in the same month of October, my PSA numbers started rising, which unfortunately it coincided with heart failure and the cause being the presence of a massive tumour in my stomach, which then took priority. Three months were spent working on my heart to allow for the removal of the tumour.
Last year, this month, I had my prostate removed, and due to the unforeseen delays was met post-surgery with the news that the cancer had spread. It had been treated slightly late once again, emphasising the importance of timely intervention. So, as I write this, there are many unknowns concerning my present health. I can now do some gardening, and I planted many bulbs last week to add to our early spring flowers. As it has been continually wet recently, our leaf blower come hoover has been unable to be used, so I have reverted to raking up the leaves. The main culprits are our cherry and walnut trees. However, the most annoying is our pine nut tree, the last one standing as we removed the other three also planted by the previous house owner. He planted them close to our garden wall, allowing them to shed into our neighbours, who did not complain but were delighted to help remove them with us sharing the firewood. Augusto, our neighbour as I write this, is awaiting surgery on his back and is unable to drive his tractor, let alone work right now, which is the middle of the olive harvest. Rozanne and I were just this morning debating the removal of the last pine tree and replacing it with fruit trees. I hate pine needles, especially on our gravel. They are also a huge fire hazard.
Getting back to prostate cancer, I was saddened to read Sir Chris Hoy has been diagnosed with it at an advanced stage. This surprised me, as an ex-high-achieving athlete, I had expected he would have regular medical checks. I have many friends who have had prostate cancer, which, when diagnosed early, are now living normal cancer-free lives, but unfortunately, I also have friends who have died of the disease. The commonality of both groups is the living have been diagnosed early while those who have succumbed to the disease, to a man, were diagnosed late. My message here is to get regular PSA tests done. It is so simple, avoiding the test is the easiest way to succumb to the disease. Do not wait until you are fifty for tests; after all, Chris Hoy was diagnosed in his mid-forties. As a layman, I advise you not to be embarrassed to have a physical examination. It could have been a game changer if I had checked this immediately. Unfortunately, my female doctor was reticent about carrying this out. Who knows? It is certainly not going to help dwelling on it.
“If you are male and over forty, make sure, if you have not done so already, get a PSA test and continue to do so annually for the rest of your life.” - Peter McSporran.
For myself, I have had a fairly rough year with a total of five procedures, most for cancer except for two, one to keep me alive following extreme blood loss and one for a burst appendix. Unfortunately, they found further tumours during the latter procedure. My biggest present ambition is to watch the next Rugby World Cup in three years time. My least ambitions are to be able to attend my son Selby’s wedding and Rozanne’s sixtieth, both early next year. I certainly hope to be planting more flowers in spring. As always, it is your loved ones that carry the greatest mental burden. I feel guilty they do, but I am so glad they are around.
I am repeating myself, but I watch lots of farming podcasts. What has shocked me is that when the head of the house, usually the farm owner, dies, there is often no will. It seems many men and perhaps women are reticent about writing wills, certainly ones that will secure the farming property and business. It may be to the benefit of one and the exclusion of others may be part of the problem. Thinking of a plan and writing a will to ensure all parties know what they are getting before your death may enable survival and retention of the farm in the family. In every likelihood, the opposite will bring about its loss or, at best, create huge family divisions. The truth is now, in Europe, many young people do not want the poorly rewarded career in farming and rather seek greener pastures, that is, until the death of the parent who owns the farm. Then they will return clamouring for their share of the spoils despite contributing little to it.
“Writing a will ensures that those who are entitled benefit and those who can run the business continue to do so. Not having a will on one’s death may negate all the goodwill and harmony within a family, coupled with losing assets to the ever-hungry lawyers and hungrier state. It is especially pertinent to farmers who seem most reluctant to do so.” - Peter McSporran.
In early 1995, there was a lot of hope in the Commercial Farmers Union (CFU). The new Blackfordby Agricultural College was advancing on time for its opening with the first intake of the new two-year agricultural diploma course planned for September that year, and a suitable plot of land had been bought in Marlborough for the planned new CFU offices—tangible progress in both projects. For most, it was a good rainy season except for those areas I mentioned last week, and most dams were full. For the CFU, with the advent of voluntary membership, a tiered farmers' licence fee was introduced, and surprisingly, we lost a few members while seeing a large increase in smaller farmers making use of the more attractive fee arrangement.
This was to change. On March 16th of that year, I was sitting behind my desk when Guy Menage, the chairman of the Commercial Cotton Growers Association (CCGA), called me on the telephone in a very emotional state. He stated there had been a very big tragedy. He went on to say a plane carrying seven of his executive members had crashed on takeoff from Middle Save, where they had been attending a cotton meeting. He also informed me there had been a large loss of life. I immediately called Nick Swanepoel, and the two directors, David Hasluck and Jerry Grant set about dealing with the crisis. We soon learned five executive members had died along with the young pilot, while three had survived. Nick and David headed to Charles Prince airport to meet and ensure the survivors were dealt with expediently. At the same time, I frantically tried to contact wives and family members of those who had died before they heard it through the ‘bush telegraph’, which was often more rumours than fact. On that day, Don Pare from Bindura, Charles Campher from Kadoma; Dennis Monaghan from Chegutu; and Mike Zartman from Kwekwe, died along with the young pilot Nick Rowland. Don Fraser from Bindura, Campbell Dunlop from Shamva, and Tony Gaskell from Middle Save survived with Campbell and Don taken to Harare, while Tony, the most seriously injured, was taken to hospital in Mutare. I knew them all other than the pilot, with a couple of them being close friends, including Tony. His head injuries were to incapacitate him for the rest of his life. Every single cotton-growing area in the country was affected, leaving grieving wives, children, and communities.
In the following weeks or so, the CFU leadership spent time visiting the stricken families and attending funerals. Everything else was dropped. I knew the pilot's father from drinking with him on the odd occasion at the Red Lion Bar at Harare Sports Club and found him the most inconsolable, losing a son who was, as the pilot, blamed for causing the crash.
When I wrote about Ian Sandeman’s crash, Jeff Somner, from Bulawayo, who was also on that Mozambique trip, contacted me and said I was incorrect in saying an unknown person was in the sixth seat of Ian’s plane. It was, in fact, empty. He further informed me he was meant to be on the plane as he was a pilot, and Sally Sandeman was concerned about Ian. Jeff was also a licensed pilot. However, his baggage had been loaded onto a planned earlier flight by mistake, with Robin Vetch as the pilot. Robin was Sally’s partner in her air charter business. After discussing with Ian, who had been suffering from pain in his left arm the previous evening, causing concern, Ian said he was fine telling Jeff to join his luggage on the earlier plane. That is how fate is.
In the same week that I heard from Jeff, Pedro Araujo also contacted me, saying his then-future wife, Leanne Bayley, was meant to have been in the plane in the fatal crash in Middle Save I have written about this week. Leanne was Barry Fisher’s secretary, the CEO of the CCGA, and she gave up her place to one of the farmers who wanted to get back early to Harare for a meeting. Pedro, also a pilot, arrived at Charles Prince from Kariba where he learned of the crash and thankfully his future wife was safe. Fate’s hand is once again at play. Pedro informs me Leanne, who witnessed the crash from the takeoff runway, still has nightmares about this incident to this day. The crash, which was eventually put down to pilot error, took place on take-off. Two people in the back of the plane were experienced pilots, making it hard to understand some of the accusations.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
I was also at the Middle Save accident. The Bindura rep was Rob Parry, also a licenced pilot, and was sitting in the front seat, lots of unanswered questions in that incident. Rob was an avid collector of butterflys, and a great bloke.
The story never ends.