I questioned myself to whether or not open up and write a short blog entry on what happened in my personal life in 2022 that made me go silent scientifically from early spring 2022 till now. No papers, no conferences, no contributions to the international scientific community. It has been a career break for medical reasons. I made the decision to open up. So here is a personal story about me, a prostate cancer survivor.

The last fifteen months or so have been tough. Blood tests early 2022 showed that my Prostate-Specific Antigen (PSA) levels were slowly creeping up, exceeding the artificial safe zone of 4 ng/mL. A follow-on MRI scan showed the faintest blurry speck of only a few pixels in area. Did I move during the scan, or was there something that should not be there? Cancer runs in the family, but no reason to panic, for now at least. I felt fine.

Medical advice was to do a biopsy in early summer. I cancelled my scientific conference season. I did not feel like writing papers and publishing our latests scientific results anyway, as in the back of my mind there was this unease. My research team just got out of COVID, and now this.

At the time of the biopsy, in summer 2022, my PSA levels had risen further, approaching a value of 5. The biopsy itself was not too bad. Imagine inserting a long metal kebab-stick 24 times to take little samples, obviously sedated. A bit sore and bloody afterwards for a few days.

The results came in September. I was summoned to the hospital. I expected bad news, that I did not want to hear. They would have phoned otherwise, not? The urologist informed me that indeed they found prostate cancer, 2 out of 24 samples, with a Gleason score of 7, meaning that the cancer was growing at a moderate rate. I felt numb for a moment, but only for a few minutes or so as a radical plan of action had to be put in motion. There really was only one option on the table, considering my age, and that the cancer hopefully was still localized and not spread. A radical prostatectomy, that is removal of the prostate, it was. A Dutch urologist agreed. It was the only option.

The decision was made, and things were moving fast. The operation was scheduled for mid October. The few weeks leading up to that my mind was in a bit of a haze. Me and my fantastic husband tried to get as much information as possible about what impact this medical procedure would have on my and our lives. Prostate Cancer UK was of great help as a resource, with many stories of people who went through the same. I also had support from a close work colleague, who went through the same.

October became November.

I was told to check in early. No food, no drink. I was given my own room to try to relax before surgery, an NHS luxury. Medical staff told me I would be second in line that day. A few hours wait. A few hours became many hours, with news early afternoon that there were operating theatre complications. I was transferred to a general ward. During the afternoon a junior doctor told me to stay put. By the end of the afternoon I was informed that all would be rescheduled. I was drained, both physically and emotionally.

November became December.

December 8th, attempt two for surgery. A radical prostatectomy in itself was not radical enough, an open inguinal hernia repair was added to avoid later potential complications. This time I was the first of three to be operated. This time all was done by the afternoon. What followed was one night in hospital and then back home, where my wonderful husband took care of me. Those first 24 hours were tough as I had to force myself to get out of bed, stand up, and try to walk. Agony on just paracetamol, but it had to be done.

The first days post-op were tough as it was major surgery with 4 key holes, 1 little incision of a few cm ,and one rather large incision, the latter from the hernia repair. Imagine trying to get out of bed without your abdominal muscles working and with a feeling as if you had just lost a major free style kick-boxing match.

After 10 days, a moment of truth. Catheter removal and see if I could go to the toilet normally after drinking about 2 L of water. In short, that was a total failure, or shall I say a Niagara fall event. Superabsorbent polymers came to my rescue. Days became weeks, weeks became months. The cancer rollercoaster sank in.

Where am I now? Happy they caught it early, happy to be alive. Enjoying every moment of every day with my husband, family and friends. Recent blood tests gave me the all clear. I am still recovering, doing exercises and getting physiotherapy check-ups. Slowly but surely things are improving.

In the past one and a half year or so, time was there to think and evaluate. What is important, and what is not? Where next job wise, where next with research? During my recovery I started to worked on a vision to transform STEM research in polymer science and engineering and include aspects from the arts, humanities and social sciences. The idea for a centre for doctoral training Plastics Shaken Up was born. I am looking forward to what is to come of it. It is a great initiative with many companies and other organizations on board and enthusiastic people from the Warwick Cross Faculty Plastics Group involved (https://warwick.ac.uk/plastics). A step-change in polymer and colloid science is needed in order to become environmentally sustainable, so that we can help to preserve and restore our precious planet earth. This transformation is needed for both scientific discovery and innovation and education. Polymers are wonderful materials that can bring a lot of good. Yes, we get reminded daily on the bad, but it is our collective task as academics to inspire and enthuse the next generation of people with the wonders of polymer and colloid science and engineering and together generate ideas and provide solutions for a sustainable future.

Time has come to pick things up. Am I ready? Yes. I am full of renewed energy and enthusiasm, with a fantastic scientific research team I am proud of. Now let’s get back to some exciting and enjoyable research and teaching.