I’ve always been an active person. Swimming through school, gym through university, then marathons, triathlons and open water swims. I constantly trained, pushed my limits, and never slowed down.
I also never had a GP.
I distinctly recall filling out a questionnaire at a new physiotherapist. ‘Who is your GP?’ My answer: N/A.
I remember thinking, ‘Why would I ever need a dedicated GP?’ I never really saw one. I didn’t have the time. And honestly, I didn’t think I needed one. I felt fit. I felt strong. I felt fine.
Statistically, I wasn’t unusual. Two thirds of men delay seeing a GP, even when they notice a health problem – because we think we can handle it ourselves, because we’re embarrassed, or because we simply don’t prioritise it.
For years, physical activity was my measure of health. If I could run further, swim faster, lift more – I was healthy. The mental health benefits were real too. The post-workout clarity, the stress relief, the confidence that if my body was strong, my mind must be too.
But fitness isn’t health. And feeling good isn’t the same as being well.
I was using exercise to prop up my mental health. Unsurprisingly, studies show that adults achieving the recommended physical activity levels have up to a 25% lower risk of depression. In the background exercise was doing the heavy lifting for my headspace – which was great, until life gets in the way, or something else.
In June 2024, I was diagnosed with bowel cancer. I was 37, with two young daughters and a demanding career. I didn’t look sick. I didn’t feel like someone who had cancer.
But I’d been ignoring symptoms for months. I remember telling my wife about the issues I was facing and saying, ‘It’ll sort itself out’ or ‘I don’t have time’. When I finally saw a GP, I was initially misdiagnosed. It took a night in the emergency department, scans and a colonoscopy before the cancer was found.
What followed was six months of chemotherapy and radiation, a bowel resection, three months living with a stoma, and then surgery to reverse it. It’s been a confronting, exhausting, humbling 24 months.
Ninety-nine per cent of bowel cancer cases can be treated successfully – if found early.
The physical side of cancer is brutal. The mental impact is just as bad.
Fear. Anxiety. Guilt. Thoughts of the what if. ‘What if I don’t make it through this?’ ‘What if this thing comes back?’ Yet life goes on and I believed the only way was to push through. I treated mental health the same way I treated the GP – it’ll sort itself out.
It doesn’t.
What I’ve learned is that physical and mental health aren’t two separate things. They’re completely intertwined. When one dips, the other follows. And the same stubbornness that stops men from booking a GP appointment is the same stubbornness that stops us from saying ‘I’m not coping’.
Balancing a leadership role, a young family, and my own health is a daily negotiation. Some days work gets everything. Some days the girls do. Some days my health demands the priority.
The difference now is that I no longer treat my health as something that can wait. I’ve learned – the hard way – that it’s not competing with work and family. It’s the foundation both are built on.
This week is Men’s Health Week. Its purpose is to heighten awareness of preventable health problems and encourage early detection and treatment – physical and mental – among men and boys.
I’d distil that into a single message: speak up and see your GP.
Not when you have the time. Not later. Now.
And while you’re at it, check in on those around you.
Because that version of me who wrote ‘N/A’ on a physio form? He’s gone. And I’m grateful he is.
Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live. – Jim Rohn
Patrick Lim
Chief Commercial Officer