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"Ed, I have a little health issue"

A confronting story appears today in the Herald Sun in which Eddie McGuire re-tells of hearing Sam Newman admit he has prostate cancer.

Newman, in his inimitable style, is blunt as he tells his friend McGuire that he is beyond chemotherapy treatment.

But he is adamant that McGuire should make use of the news if he thinks there “is value in it.” Tonight, McGuire will deliver on that request on 60 Minutes.

On reading this article it’s hard to know how anyone could remember the words of such a confronting conversation with such detail. But it is re-published here in full as a courtesy to a sports presenter obviously undergoing devastating personal hardship.

When it comes to spin in the media it is easy to become cynical (and Sam has been king at attracting headlines with many a stunt). For the record TV Tonight understands much of this is an act, and that behind the scenes he is a pretty likable character, who is one of the few in the biz happy to turn it on for the cameras and then live his private life in private (thought that hasn’t been easy).

If the furthering of Sam’s story educates more men about the dangers of prostate cancer then the media on this story will have been worthwhile.

Here is McGuire’s recollection today:

The phone rings. “Now Ed, I need to catch up, there’s something I have to tell you. Those were the words that first sent a shiver down my spine three weeks ago.

The speaker was my great friend and television partner, Sam Newman.

“Is it urgent?” I asked, fishing for information.

“Yes,” he said, “but I need to sit down with you.”

My mind went into overdrive – that could mean anything, especially from Sam.

“Can you just give me a hint?” I asked.

“Well Ed, I have a little health issue. Can we have a coffee tomorrow?”

“No worries mate, see you then.”

Not much sleep that night.

That was when it all began, this three-week roller-coaster ride. The enigma wrapped up in a riddle, John “Sam” Newman, faced a life and death situation.

Next morning, as we sat out the front of a St Kilda cafe, under blue skies and a beautiful Melbourne summer sun, with Nine managing director Jeffrey Browne, Sam gave me the news in the way I have become accustomed – right between the eyes.

“Now Ed, I have cancer, I have cancer of the prostate, not prostrate as people mistakenly say – that’s what I’ll be when I have the operation . . . and there is a real fear that it may have spread further, maybe to my bones or my lungs, and if that’s the case then I could be stuffed.

“Ed, I don’t want you or anyone else to worry, not that maybe you would or should for that matter . . . there’s nothing anyone can do, but if you thought, you or Jeffrey here, that we could do anything of value for Nine or The Footy Show or for anyone then do it.”

“I don’t want any publicity. In fact, we have spoken of going to America to have the treatment – not that they are any better, but just to get away so that this doesn’t become a circus . . . I don’t want anyone worrying or fussing.

”Now I need to have more tests and I’ll find out if it has spread, but they, that is the professor, has decided that I need to be operated on as soon as possible.

”It’s gone past being able to have radiotherapy or chemo.

“Do whatever you like, I don’t want to stuff up the Footy Show, but I may not be able to be there so you – you two – need to think about what’s best for everyone.”

OK then. Good morning Sam, mind if I just process what you’ve just told me.

It was obvious my old mate was deeply shaken, just as certain that he didn’t want any sympathy, but equally clear that, as always, he was reluctant to accept so many people actually love him.

He did not want anyone’s day or week to be spoilt.

“Have you told anyone else?” I asked.

“Yes, a few people” – whose identity I could guess, a small group of family and his tight-knit group of lifelong friends.

“What about The Footy Show boys?’ I asked.

“No . . . why should I? It will only upset them, I don’t want anyone worrying about this.

”I will tell them in good time, but what’s the use in burdening anyone? I want everyone to march on as usual.”

He stopped, staring into the middle distance, noticing I was wiping some moisture from behind my sunglasses.

“There’s nothing you can do so let’s get on with it – you decide what we should do, if anything at all, if you think there is any value,” he said.

And so began this journey, one that has to be faced up to by about 32 Australian men, their families and friends each day.

Each day – 32 men diagnosed with prostate cancer. Did you hear me?

“Now Ed, I’m not the only person to get this,” Sam said. “There are plenty of people worse off than me. I don’t want to be a hero or a martyr.”

“Then be an example,” I said.

“The medicos say that every time someone like Kylie Minogue or Delta Goodrem, someone who seems to be fit and well, comes out and talks about their condition, the rate of health checks goes through the roof and hundreds of lives are saved.”

A week later Jeff Browne, Nine CEO David Gyngell and myself put our plan to Sam.

“I don’t want this for the publicity or for anything else, but I’ll do it with one proviso – that you ask me anything and have unfettered access to the whole process,” Sam said.

“I don’t care if I’m unconscious, drugged or inside out on the operating table, if you think there is some value in this – not for you and me Ed, though I’m sure some people will have a go at us.

”But, if you think this is a good idea, then do it – but not some soft, wet, stumped up version. Do it properly.”

That three-week journey will be seen tonight on 60 Minutes on the Nine network at 7.30pm.

Tomorrow at 9am, if you are a male over 45, book yourself in and be tested.

Prostate cancer caught early can be beaten.

Often there are no symptoms – until it’s too late.

Source: Herald Sun

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