a day ago
ABC Radio Sydney presenter James Valentine announces omentum cancer diagnosis
I'd really hoped I'd never have to do this again. I've now twice gone on the radio on 702 ABC Sydney, and published articles online, revealing details of my disease.
In March 2024, I announced that I had oesophageal cancer, and I was heading off for major surgery and it might be a while before I'd be back.
In September 2024, I came back on air, and let everyone know, that I'd had a more minor procedure, removed the tumour in my oesophagus and would then be monitored for any future outbreaks.
Well, here in June 2025, I'm telling you the monitoring works very well. My current scans, and a biopsy have confirmed that I have tumours in my omentum. Yes, omentum, I'd never heard of it either.
It's described usually as a fatty veil, which extends from the stomach over your intestine. Quite what it does, not sure; partly packaging, partly helping to protect the intestine, possibly some role in dealing with infection.
Whatever it's meant to do it is currently largely squeezing my bowel and causing constriction and constipation and general discomfort in that part of the world. Oh, it's been a fun few weeks, my friends. I am now way too familiar with the 'digestive' aisle of my local chemist.
So I've been off the last couple of weeks, getting tests, and figuring out what's to be done.
As of next week, I will be beginning chemotherapy and immunotherapy. A big blast of 21st century science, that hopefully, will scour it all out and leave me in a position to heal and recover.
Immunotherapy is the great hope of everyone these days. I'm eligible, as in it's considered that it's very likely to be effective in my case.
I won't be able to keep working so I'll be off air now for at least three months. Side effects of the treatment range from mildly irritating to horrendous, so I think I'll just deal with them. Best I focus on this one thing, and give the medicine and the process its best chance.
I've been back playing saxophone and doing some gigs and some live theatre shows as well which, from my point of view on the stage, have been wonderful! So they too will be put on hold for a while until this cancer has abated.
Back when this cancer was just a tumour in short pants in my oesophagus I was faced with a choice between the full removal of my oesophagus or the removal of only the tumour, leaving my oesophagus intact.
I accepted then that I was making the decision on what I would do.
The difficulty with the decision was that both doctors were right; the full surgery was more common and the accepted protocol for my condition, but the lesser procedure was possible. The way I often expressed it then and since, has been to say that I chose a different set of risks.
To remove the oesophagus fully was likely to leave me with a long recovery and a potential set of morbidities and difficulties in living that would be challenging. To remove the tumour was to accept that I'd be initially OK, but cancer could return. In fact, in both procedures there was always the likelihood of future cancer.
The future's arrived.
There may be debate as to whether the full removal might have prevented this, but given that the initial tumour may have been there for a while, undetected and asymptomatic, there's every chance that cancer cells have been out in my body for some time, looking for a place to call home, and the full surgery would not have prevented their spread.
I'm not that concerned about that, the how, the why, the might have been. I find cancer, like any other major insult to my being, has a way of bringing me very firmly into the present. What's happening to me, what can I do to fix this, what do I need to do right now this day, this hour, this minute?
That's me for the next few months. Treatment, deal with the treatment, rest, build strength for next treatment. In between, be with the people I love.
I'm already missing you, I'm already wanting to get back on air. All is not right unless I'm on the radio in the afternoon and there's Rant, and Petty Crimes being solved and couples sharing on This Is What I Live With and all the other glorious, revealing, hilarious and shambolic conversations we share every day.
I don't pray, but if you do, please go hard. I can feel your good wishes, love and support and I thank you deeply for it. When I know anything about what's happening, I'll let you know but right now I'm off to the land of the sick. When I get back, you'll hear from me.
