"May 2nd, 2012, was a Tuesday. I awoke at 2am with some severe stomach cramps. I weathered them and went back to bed. I felt tired the next day but thought nothing more of it...Two nights later, the same thing happened, but this time I woke Veronica and we went up to the local Accident and Emergency department."
George's Story
My name is George Hillen, and I live in Katherine in the Northern Territory, where I work as a Police Officer. I cover one of the largest geographical policing districts in the world, which makes for a career that is as demanding as it is rewarding. Before that, I worked in pubs in Darwin, after arriving from Ireland on a working holiday in 1996 and promptly falling in love with Australia.
I’m not the kind of person who sits still for long. I’ve always been active – whether it was working on the doors in Darwin with Big Gav and Big Steve, or training at the RAAF gym with my mate Luke. I’d stopped smoking, cut back on drinking, and was all-in on getting fitter. I’d recently been designated a Detective and was proud of the work I was doing targeting drug trafficking in remote communities. Life was full, intense and fast-paced.
Diagnosis
In May 2012, it all changed. After a few nights of stomach cramps and fatigue, I went to A&E and eventually found myself being sent for scans and procedures. A surgeon suggested I have an endoscopy, just to check for gallstones. That was the first time I heard the word "cancer" mentioned.
I had no idea how serious it might be, so I kept the news to myself. I didn’t tell my family in Ireland. My mum had been unwell and I didn’t want to cause her more stress. Keeping the secret was hard. I became more superstitious. I prayed, I filled out a will, and I swore I’d do everything the doctors told me to. I refused to search my symptoms online and instead focused only on what was directly in front of me.
Treatment
After inconclusive biopsies and conflicting scans, we booked surgery – a Whipple procedure – for July 13th, 2012. Despite the date, I kept faith in the team. Post-surgery, I woke up in ICU with tubes everywhere and a body battered by the complexity of the procedure. I later learned the tumour had been cancerous, but the margins were clear.
What followed was six months of chemotherapy. Every Friday, I drove 320km to Darwin for treatment, then back to Katherine. The chemo was tough, and the loneliness made tougher by the decision to keep everything secret. One day in the chemo unit, Big Steve saw me and asked who I was there for. When he realised it was me, the look on his face said it all. I felt like a fraud.
Life after treatment
The turning point came not just in treatment, but in the promises I made to myself during recovery:
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Visit my family in Ireland and tell them in person.
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Marry Veronica – which we did in 2014, in a castle in County Down.
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Climb Mount Kilimanjaro with Luke and Paul – raising over $131,000 for pancreatic cancer research.
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Become a dad.
In October 2015, Veronica and I welcomed our daughter Isobel Jude Grace into the world. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.
I try to live in a way that honours all the steps it took to get here. I still think about the friends and family who held everything together while I healed. Veronica, especially, who had to carry the emotional burden of my silence.
It's been years since I was diagnosed. I'm back at work, I’m well, and my scans are still clear. I'm not sure what comes next, but I do know this: I’ll keep finding ways to raise awareness about pancreatic cancer, and I’ll keep showing up for the people who showed up for me.