The warhorse jousts again

Meet the man who’s been fighting cancer for 43 of his 62 years. Phil Kerslake tells Bess Manson: ‘‘I’m not dying till I’m ready to go.’’

Phil Kerslake calls himself an old warhorse. He’s gone into enough jousts to wear the title well. His war is with cancer and so far he’s won untold battles.

Numbers are just numbers, but they tell a story in Kerslake’s case:

50 chemotherapy cycles (and counting); 80 radiation sessions; 26 surgeries; four head shaves; stage 2,

3, 4 cancer diagnoses.

And here’s an important number:

43. That’s how many years Kerslake, now 62, has been living with cancer.

It’s been a long war. Each time the disease comes for him, Kerslake gets into battle mode.

Right now it’s on. Another round of chemo is underway to treat his stage 4 diagnosis of Hodgkin’s lymphoma, the disease he’s fought most of his life. It’s spread to his abdomen, bones and liver. He is also being treated for skin cancer.

A few days ago, he was laid up on the sofa at his Upper Hutt family home with a fever following treatment. But the old warhorse rallied and is back on form.

It helps that he’s a stubborn and resilient person – his words, and something of an understatement.

‘‘From the day I was first diagnosed, when my mother said ‘we’ll beat this’ and neither of us had a clue how that would work, I have said to myself ‘I’m not dying young. I’m not dying till I’m ready to go.’’’

Kerslake’s life with cancer began before he was out of his teens.

At age 15, he discovered lumps growing under his armpits, which doctors diagnosed as glandular fever. They never went away and at

19 he was diagnosed with nonHodgkin’s lymphoma.

At 27, some routine tests revealed the cancer was back. It had got into his nodes and spread.

His doctor looked at his notes and stated: ‘‘You should be dead.’’

Over the next three decades, the disease has returned again and again. But each time he’s managed to claw his way back out, often enduring aggressive treatment.

He’s had several specialists over the years tell him he’s come to the end of the line. He’s been recommended for palliative care. His chart has read ‘‘unlikely contender for a good outcome’’.

Overcoming cancer is certainly not just about determination and grit. Sometimes it’s not something you can get over. Sometimes it can’t be stopped. But Kerslake says his body is made for the treatments he’s endured, however gruelling they may be. In his opinion, he’s also just really lucky.

Some might argue luck is exactly what Kerslake lacks, but he reckons it’s all about perspective.

He gets sick of being sick, there’s no glossing over that, he says.

‘‘But I’ve never thought ‘I don’t want to do this any more.’ I get angry. I try to manage that,’’ he says. ‘‘If I think doctors are not paying enough attention to my case because they think I’m going to die anyway, I’ll take them on about it.’’

Three years ago his doctor told him his diagnosis was really, really bad. ‘‘She was saying I could be dead soon. I looked at her without fear and said ‘Okay, what are we going to do about it?’’’

Kerslake has always been an involved patient. He learned about his cancers, he learned about the medical system, he learned how to communicate with his doctors. Feeling empowered is a great way to fight the fear, he says.

A lot of people wonder how he puts one foot in front of the other with one diagnosis after the next. He once overheard someone who also had cancer say he didn’t want to be another ‘‘Phil Kerslake’’. He gets it but nevertheless, that smarted.

Over the years, he has developed a high threshold of pain. He’s had to work at that. He’s had to work at being courageous. At times he cries. Usually when he’s alone. These days he meditates to the point he’s almost asleep before he’s put under for surgery.

He’s spiritual, but not religious. He prays, but not to God. ‘‘I pray to the Universe. I don’t do it expecting all my dreams to come true but if I’m at a low point I may say ‘look, I’m trying to get through this, I’d appreciate some guidance’.’’ He believes in goodness and kindness and being a decent human being. Being an optimist helps.

And then there is his family, his ‘‘luxury’’ in life: his wife Gill and their sons, 12-year-old Matthew and

14-year-old Rhys. His boys wonder how he does it.

‘‘The boys are really proud of me,’’ he says. ‘‘They know I’ve got cancer, they know I could die one day, but we don’t focus on that. We just live our lives. If I’m feeling unwell it’ll be obvious, or I’ll tell them. I’m not completely stoic, but I’ll always try and perk up as much as I can.

‘‘And I wonder what I would not have had if I hadn’t had cancer? I probably wouldn’t have got married to Gill. She was just the right person for me.

‘‘I would never have had my children, and they have been the biggest

joy of my life,’’ he says. ‘‘I would never have had the opportunities to do the things I’ve done that led to interacting with cancer patients all over the world.’’

The latter was as a result of his

2006 book Life, Happiness … & Cancer – Survive with action and attitude!

After his second stage 4 diagnosis, he quit his high-flying property development job. Buying and selling property felt like a hollow existence when he was faced with a life-threatening illness.

Gill’s job as a financial advisor has propped them up financially. A Givealittle page helped out at a particularly impecunious stage.

Kerslake became a life and leadership coach while penning his book, which was subsequently bought in bulk by the Cancer Society of New Zealand and offered free to patients at the start of their own cancer journey. It continues to drip feed the bank account.

He received invitations to speak all over Aotearoa and abroad about his book and his experience in the cancer world. Since 2006, he has spoken to 20,000 people at more than 150 engagements. His work has seen him named an International Hero of Hope by the American Cancer Society, and appointed a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to people with cancer.

He still gets letters and phone calls from people asking for his advice or just wanting to talk about their own experiences with cancer.

People who have had cancer will often look at their lives differently. They will often find a new purpose in their lives, he says. ‘‘You’ve got one life. People die every day of all sorts of things. Having a purpose, doing the things you really want to do is what’s important.’’

Grief, which comes with each blow cancer delivers, is a strange one to navigate, he says. It’s harder with a family because now there’s more to lose. ‘‘It’s less a fear of death and more a fear of leaving behind the people I love,’’ he says. ‘‘I’ve said many times that I am not afraid of death. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to live. I have a purpose in life and mostly, that’s my family.’’

His ambitions are much the same as any of us. He wants to see his children grow up and be happy. He wants to stay in his home and give stability to his boys.’’

It irks and embarrasses him that he can’t earn more. He wants to write a memoir and hopes that will bring in some much-needed income. He already has the title: These Are Great Days.

Phil Kerslake, ever the optimist, the survivor, the stubborn old warhorse.