30 years on:
Dad, men's health and me
I can’t quite believe it, but it’s 30 years since Dad died, at the ridiculously young age of 62. He had prostate cancer. It’s his illness and death as much as anything that set me on my course of health journalism: I wanted to do something that might help reduce the chance of other families having similar experiences. Looking back today, it amazes me how much some things have changed for the better. But it also shocks me that some things remain stubbornly the same.
I suppose what I'm saying is that when I started out as a health journalist, I was concerned about acts of omission in health services. Now I'm just as concerned about acts of commission.
Oh the irony. Here I am, a health journalist worried that we’re becoming too obsessed with health. Bang goes the day job.
Here's me and Dad, in his prime, in 1968.