"My biggest regret is carrying childhood trauma without realising it was shaping my life. Don’t wait; seek help, embrace the present, and find profound joy in every moment, for this beautiful world offers so much to cherish."
This powerful reflection comes from Rex Mackrill, a 65-year-old man from Tetbury, Gloucestershire, whose terminal prostate cancer diagnosis catalyzed a profound journey of self-discovery and healing. Faced with a limited time ahead, Rex has openly shared the invaluable lessons learned, particularly emphasizing the critical importance of confronting unaddressed childhood trauma and cultivating a deep appreciation for the present moment. His story serves as a poignant reminder that true living often begins when one dares to look inward and embrace vulnerability, transforming past pain into a present filled with conscious joy.
The stark reality of a terminal diagnosis often forces individuals to re-evaluate their lives, priorities, and what truly matters. For Rex Mackrill, a former GP practice manager from Tetbury, Gloucestershire, this process began with the discovery of incurable stage four prostate cancer. The disease, which ran in his family, had been monitored through regular PSA tests. A raised result led to further investigations, confirming the devastating prognosis.
Rex underwent chemotherapy, a treatment regimen that, while aimed at prolonging his life, took a significant physical toll. He now contends with the enduring side effects of hormone treatment, notably intense fatigue, which fundamentally altered his daily existence. "I stopped doing a job I love as a GP practice manager," he recounts, highlighting the profound impact on his professional identity and daily routine. "By the time I went through chemotherapy, I couldn’t do the job that was needed." This forced departure from a cherished career marked one of the most significant practical shifts brought about by his illness. Yet, even amidst these challenges, Rex’s priorities remained steadfastly centered on his family. He and his wife, Sarah, had meticulously structured their lives around their sons, ensuring they received the best possible upbringing. This unwavering familial focus became an anchor in the turbulent waters of his diagnosis.
However, while cancer undoubtedly reshaped his perspective and future plans, Rex emphasizes that one of the most transformative discoveries of his life predated his illness by several years. For much of his adult life, Rex lived under the shadow of persistent anxiety, a pervasive "blackness" he couldn’t comprehend or explain. He simply assumed it was a burden he had to bear, an inherent part of his disposition. "I knew that I was frightened, but I didn’t know why," he reflects, articulating the bewildering internal struggle that colored his existence.
The turning point arrived when Rex was 60. During a session with a life coach, a crucial observation was made: Rex appeared to "shut down" whenever certain sensitive topics arose. This astute insight prompted the life coach to deliver a direct, yet liberating, assessment: "You’ve got trauma, dude." This moment marked the beginning of Rex’s journey towards understanding himself. He subsequently sought professional help and was diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), a condition he believes stemmed from unaddressed abuse suffered during his childhood. The revelation was profound, offering a framework for the lifelong anxiety he had carried. "I wish I’d known I had a trauma earlier," he laments, underscoring the years spent grappling with an invisible weight.
Delayed diagnoses of PTSD are, unfortunately, not uncommon. Research from organizations like PTSD UK suggests that symptoms can emerge years, or even decades, after the traumatic events, often manifesting as chronic anxiety, depression, or a general sense of unease, rather than overt flashbacks. Approximately one in ten people in the UK are expected to experience PTSD at some point in their lives, highlighting its prevalence and the silent battles many endure. Initially, Rex admitted he struggled to accept help, a common reaction for those who have normalized their internal suffering. However, through the therapeutic modalities of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) and Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing (EMDR), his life gradually began to transform. CBT, a talking therapy, helps individuals identify and challenge unhelpful thought patterns and behaviors, while EMDR uses bilateral stimulation to help process traumatic memories and reduce their emotional impact.
The results for Rex were nothing short of miraculous. "I used to live at 10 out of 10 anxiety and I don’t now," he states, describing a profound shift in his baseline emotional state. The trauma, he realized, had "influenced all aspects of my life," creating a stark dichotomy between his outward persona and his internal reality. "People would say I was calm and collected, but they weren’t aware of the stress and anxiety I carried." This internal struggle, now understood and processed, had been a constant companion, silently shaping his interactions and perceptions.
Reflecting on his journey, Rex’s advice to anyone grappling with similar internal struggles is direct and unequivocal: "Go get help. Go and see your GP." He emphasizes that no one should feel compelled to bear such burdens alone. "You don’t have to live like that or carry it on your own," he asserts. He encourages reaching out to a trusted friend, articulating that "there’s something blocking you," as they can often serve as a vital bridge to finding the necessary professional support. His message resonates with the growing understanding of mental health, advocating for early intervention and destigmatizing the act of seeking help.
As Rex continues to navigate life with terminal cancer, his priorities, while always family-centric, have been imbued with a newfound intensity and presence. He observes that the biggest change isn’t in what he values, but in how he experiences it. "I used to have to go to the Lake District to be present," he muses, referring to the grand landscapes once required to quiet his mind. "Now I can be much more present wherever I am." This profound shift allows him to find captivation and joy in the most ordinary of moments. He recently found himself mesmerized by rooks "floating on the wind," observing one particular bird’s determined efforts to land precisely where it intended, despite the wind’s interference. This seemingly simple observation became a metaphor for life’s challenges and the perseverance required to navigate them, embodying his newfound appreciation for the subtle dance of existence.
In these precious remaining days, Rex has channeled his energy into meaningful pursuits. He writes poetry, a creative outlet for his reflections, and has begun the process of divesting possessions, such as donating his car to charity. This act of giving and simplifying is not merely practical; it is a conscious effort to ease the potential burden on his loved ones after he is gone. "I don’t want to burden people with my stuff," he explains, demonstrating a profound consideration for those he will leave behind.
His proactive approach extends to preparing for death itself. Rex has participated in sessions at Longfield Hospice in Minchinhampton, a vital resource that helps individuals and their families discuss end-of-life plans and wishes for care. Sarah Mimmack, the director of care at Longfield Hospice, highlights the societal discomfort surrounding conversations about death, which often leads families to avoid these crucial discussions. However, she stresses that planning ahead offers immense benefits, removing uncertainty and alleviating significant pressure from grieving loved ones. "If you’ve done this work before you die, it really helps your family and friends," Mimmack explains. She also points out a poignant disconnect: while approximately half of people in the UK die in hospital, only a small proportion express a desire to spend their final days there. Hospices like Longfield work tirelessly to empower patients to articulate their preferences, ensuring their end-of-life care aligns with their values and wishes, ideally allowing them to die with dignity and peace in their preferred setting.
For Rex, preparing for death has paradoxically become another powerful way of making the most of the present. It is an act of love, ensuring clarity and comfort for his family. And if there is one overarching lesson he hopes others glean from his extraordinary experience, it is a fervent call to action: "Don’t wait." His message is an urgent plea to embrace life fully, without the weight of unaddressed past traumas or the postponement of present joys. "Enjoy the joy of life and see that this is a beautiful world we live in," he passionately urges. "We’re so lucky. We can love every moment of it." Rex Mackrill’s journey stands as a testament to the human spirit’s capacity for healing, resilience, and profound gratitude, even in the face of life’s ultimate certainty. His story is a powerful invitation to live authentically, seek help when needed, and cherish the fleeting beauty of every single day.
