Get all your news in one place.
100’s of premium titles.
One app.
Start reading
Chronicle Live
Chronicle Live
Sport
John Gibson

'I'm in a fight for my life, but I'm up for it' - Paul Ferris' remarkable grit is an example to us all

Men don't like talking about things which aren't, well, manly. We're stupid specimens. We feel embarrassed, self conscious, and unmanly mentioning certain subjects.

We prefer to cough, turn away, change the subject. Get on to firmer territory. Ignore what is important. Thankfully Paul Ferris is not one of us. He is courageous, brutally honest, capable of facing life's fears and traumas full on, talking about the unmentionable. He can spit in the eye of humiliation.

Paul, you see, has prostrate cancer which can strip you of dignity, of self respect, of everything we wish to be. It has no respect, no consideration, no sympathy. Ferris has fought it since he was 51. Since December 2016. He is still fighting it.

READ MORE: Joelinton has gone from joke figure to cult hero

Life can be a bitch. He had already took on and overcome the devastating consequences of a heart attack suffered in 2013. Yet living had originally appeared to hold all the joys only experienced by the truly privileged. He was a wonderfully talented football who became the youngest ever to play for Newcastle United at 16 years and 294 days in the early eighties.

Even when injury killed that dream after 13 first-team appearances and a goal against Bradford City, Paul reinvented himself qualifying as a physiotherapist good enough to head up United's medical department, switched tack totally and became a barrister, and finally the CEO of a successful health and fitness centre with Alan Shearer. Some story and when he told it he became a multi award-winning author with his best seller The Boy On The Shed. There seemed no end to his talents.

Then came the Big C. Prostate cancer. It's a phrase that strikes fear into the heart of every man. Every one of us. Luckily Paul Ferris is blessed with courage, bloody mindedness, and defiance. Yet on the surface, he is the first to admit, none are obvious hallmarks of his. Quiet and reserved, a family man, Paul hates pushing himself into life's queue or into the limelight. That he has gone public writing with rare male honesty about the harrowing surgery, humiliating procedures, and excruciating consultations was something that required a lot of soul searching to overcome his natural reserve.

The mental challenges and psychological impact of living with one of life's curses is laced with humour as well as honesty. It is never "poor me" but "damn it." Initially from Northern Ireland, Paul stayed amongst us here on Tyneside after football fame turned its cold cheek in the opposite direction and we should be grateful. He is a greater example now than when he was a footballer.

The moment Ferris was hit by an unexpected sledgehammer is recorded thus:

"I was sure it was going to be a good day. A day to forget the struggles of the past three years and to look forward to the future. I'd had a heart attack at the age of only 48. It was an enormous shock, and not just because of my age. My life had been devoted to fitness.

"After my heart attack, I did everything to ensure my condition wouldn't kill me any time soon: exercising more, taking statins and sticking to a plant-based diet. I'd lost two stone and the smile of my cardiologist told me it had been worth it. 'Just keep doing what you are doing,' was his assessment.

"Walking happily out of the Royal Victoria Infirmary Hospital in Newcastle that day in December 2016, I was convinced I had bullet-proofed myself and my family from potential health catastrophes. But as I made my way through the throngs of sick people to the exit, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t recognise the number and ignored it.

"The voice mail came through, short and to the point. 'The results of your recent biopsy are in. Could you please report to the Freeman Hospital this afternoon to speak with your consultant?' I rang my wife Geraldine: 'They want me to go to the Freeman this afternoon to see the consultant. That means only one thing. I think they are going to tell me I have cancer. If that happens, I don’t know how I will cope. Not now. After all the efforts I’ve made with my heart.'

"Two hospitals in one day. Heart disease and cancer. Two of the biggest causes of death in the Western world and I was at that moment sure I would be a sufferer of both."

The nightmare had begun. The roller-coaster of emotions, the fight and the fury unabated.

"In the years since my diagnosis I have suffered greatly," admits Ferris. "Along with a severe case of sepsis after the operation to remove my prostate, as well as anaemia, for some time I was also incontinent and I remain impotent. My mental health suffered. I felt I lost my dignity and some of what it means to be a man."

Having taken the nuclear option of an op to remove his prostate and cut out the cancer for good Paul was floored by a vicious left hook. All the cancer had not been removed. A small amount was left on the margins of tissue where his prostate had once been. After blood tests revealed his PSA levels were, once again, rising, he was told in November 2017 he would require hormone therapy and radiotherapy to try to halt the march of this stubborn invader.

Pretty bad but it was only going to get worse. His doctor told him of the awful side effects. The hormone treatment meant he would grow some breast tissue and have no libido. The radiotherapy would severely restrict his sex life and also make his incontinence worse possibly leading to short or long-term bowel issues.

"I wanted to scream with frustration and anger," admits Ferris. "The mutilating surgery hadn't been enough."

However in his darkest hour Paul's thoughts turned to his family.

"I felt so sorry for Geraldine. I wanted better for her. We'd met when she was just 13 and I was 15. She was my soulmate. I still wanted to be the boy who'd made her heart skip a beat. I wanted to be the man she'd married, had kids with and relied on to help build a life for our family. I wanted us to grow old together, to have adventures. To see the world side-by-side after the kids had up and left.

"We have been blessed with a beautiful granddaughter Isla, now five, a beacon of light and I want to see her grow up."

There is hope: "My PSA is undetectable nearly four years after my radiotherapy. I get it tested every six months. I am in a fight. A fight for my life. But, driven on by the support and care of my loving family, I am up for that fight."

Paul's final thoughts? "What happened to me should be an enormous wake-up call for all men. Because despite its reputation, prostate cancer isn’t an 'easy' cancer to have. Men should take it seriously, watch for the symptoms - and talk about how prostate cancer has affected them."

As Alan Shearer says: "Every one of us should read this book."

The Magic in the Tin" by Paul Ferris (Bloomsbury Sport, £16.99).

For the latest Newcastle news direct to your inbox, go here to sign up to our free newsletter

Sign up to read this article
Read news from 100’s of titles, curated specifically for you.
Already a member? Sign in here
Related Stories
Top stories on inkl right now
One subscription that gives you access to news from hundreds of sites
Already a member? Sign in here
Our Picks
Fourteen days free
Download the app
One app. One membership.
100+ trusted global sources.