I’ll keep fighting for the nurses who help men like me

Opinion: The most basic goal in life is to put as much time as possible between today and your last day. It sounds simple. It becomes a very sharp focus when a doctor tells you that you have a disease that can’t be cured.

I was 42, fit and happy, when I went to my GP for the results of an MRI on a sore hip. I was expecting a chipped bone or some torn cartilage. Instead, there were white spots on the scan. Prostate cancer had already spread to my bones. Stage 4.

That was more than six years ago. I’ve counted every day since, and I plan to keep counting for a long time yet. I’ve renewed my driver’s licence for ten years. I want to keep working, keep paying my mortgage, keep being a partner to my wonderful Samantha, and watch our little boy Alfie grow up to be a man.

Part of what keeps me going is a group of people many Australians have never heard of - Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia’s Prostate Cancer Specialist Nurses.

On August 31, the Federal Government announced it would stop funding PCFA’s Specialist Nursing Service from mid-2027.

Let me be honest about what these nurses do, because the men who need them rarely talk about it.

I have an injection every three months and take four tablets a day to put my cancer into hibernation. That treatment blocks all the testosterone in my body. The effects are emasculating and embarrassing. A normal sex life, gone. My short-term memory is dreadful. My moods are not always my own. For a long time I kept all of it secret.

The only people I have ever felt truly comfortable telling are my PCFA nurses.

When radiation treatment on my prostate damaged my bladder and bowel, it was my PCFA nurse who told me that what was happening was normal and would likely ease with time. She gave me something for the stinging, in places you really don’t want stinging. And she gave me the most practical advice I’ve ever received: always know where the nearest bathroom is.

That is specialist care. These nurses know prostate cancer inside out. They train and retrain constantly, because they always want to do better for their patients. Their kind, direct guidance, and often their humour, has got me through some very dark days. They save lives. They also save marriages and keep families together.

And they don’t just do it for me. Last year, PCFA’s nurses delivered around 150,000 occasions of care and supported about 22,000 newly diagnosed men, along with their partners and families.

Here’s what hurts most. Before this decision was made, no one asked me what I wanted for my ongoing care. As far as I can tell, no one asked any of the men or families living with prostate cancer. When the decision was announced, no one with prostate cancer was there to speak.

We are not hard to find. There are more than 300,000 of us in Australia right now. Our support groups meet in towns and suburbs right across the country. It feels as if this decision was made in spite of us.

The Government says prostate cancer nursing will continue under a different provider. But you can’t hand over nearly 15 years of expertise like a set of keys. PCFA built this service from 12 nurses in 2012, and the education, clinical leadership and professional network behind it are what make these nurses who they are. It is world-leading. It is the envy of other countries. Why would we dismantle it?

So here is what I would have said, if anyone had asked. Let us keep what we’ve got. It works tremendously well. Let these nurses keep doing what they do best: looking after men and their families, for as long as we need them.

Minister Butler, I am asking you to reverse this decision and guarantee funding for PCFA’s Specialist Nursing Service until 30 June 2032.

A few weeks ago, I lost my friend and colleague Troy Green. We worked together for nearly 25 years. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer only three years ago, and none of the treatments worked. He was 51. On the day he entered palliative care, he still had hope, and he told me to keep fighting and keep enjoying every day.

So I will. I’ll fight for better screening and better treatments. And I’ll fight for the nurses who help men like me live well with this disease.

To every Member of Parliament: there are men with prostate cancer in your electorate. Ask them what they want. I’m confident they’ll tell you exactly what I’m telling you.

The PCFA icon nurses wear isn’t just a logo. It’s a promise that someone who truly understands this disease will be there when you need them. Please don’t break it.

Will McDonald is an Adelaide news presenter with Nine and an ambassador for Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia. Men and families affected by prostate cancer can call PCFA on 1800 22 00 99.